As some of you may know this is Ruby Rose who has been cast to play the role of Batwoman in a forthcoming TV series. Ms Rose has had to close down her Twitter account because of all the hate mail. You see she's openly admitted to being gender fluid. She's playing the part of a lesbian though. You see Batwoman is a lesbian in this iteration. Therefore, according to some, only a lesbian should be cast in the part. I can see their point though. Daniel Day-Lewis played an Abraham Lincoln and he wasn't even an Abraham Lincoln he just acted like one. Matt Damon played an astronaut, he hasn't even been into space. You know all those truck drivers you see in films well they aren't real truck drivers. Johnny Depp hasn't done any piracy either. That's right he's never sailed the seven seas committing acts of piracy. So how can he know how to act like a pirate? It's also heartwarming to see that in this wonderful age of equality and inclusivity that you can be Twitter mobbed and trolled for not being a lesbian. Who among us ever dreamed that day would finally come. Look over there Charlize Theron, she's not a lesbian either yet she played one, let's go and hate on her. Benedict Cumberbatch better keep a low profile as well. He played a homosexual mathematician yet he's heterosexual and not a mathematician. Why is this man still allowed to work? He should be strung up the bastard.
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(The copyright for this image is the property of Junkee)
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(I promise this will eventually get funny)
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It was Wednesday. Wednesday was Jake's day for going to group. It wasn't onerous as such. The difficulties arose around the form they took. Each week 8 to 10 terminally ill people would turn up and talk. In order to encourage this each member would deliver a short speech at the start. It could be about anything. Some delivered little anecdotes about their week. Others would grapple with their disease. It was generally cancer to be fair so there was a lot of overlap. That could be confusing. Jake also felt like a fraud. He had accepted his fate immediately, without going through the five to seven stages of grief. Plus his terminal condition was a unique brain tumor. While technically it was cancerous he still felt out of place. Basically because he was the healthiest of the bunch in most ways. It seemed so unfair of him to flaunt this in their faces. Shit almost half of them arrived in ambulances some weeks. Either that or they were wheeled through from the hospice next door. There he was strolling in every seven days. No drips or catheters in him.
There was also the problem that he never knew what to say. Given the symptoms his tumor caused he had little notion what was real and what was hallucination. He could hardly regale them with the tale of his encounter with Toby, purveyor of recreational pharmaceuticals. It made no sense. Binary Reality Projectors and impossible time travel. The only other things he could talk about with any clarity were his visit to the consultant and the strange woman who'd shown up at his door thinking she'd met him before. The first was way too long and the second far too brief. Nothing else had happened. A couple of substantial nose bleeds, a few dizzy spells and the headaches aside. They weren't going to grab anyone's attention. Eventually, after much thought, he decided to go with a short account of his consultant appointment. Missing out the dead flies, warm snow and random name changes he'd experienced.
As soon as he arrived at the venue he found they'd lost a couple. One death and another who'd reached the point where the only treatment option was intravenous morphine on a drip. On the bright side more people were becoming terminally ill on a daily basis so they had a new member. Her name was Sharon. He hadn't met her yet. Being a creature of habit he'd joined the habitual gathering at the drinks machine to catch up on the nothing that had happened in anyone's life. Having been coming there for a year he was sort of the elder statesman. Nobody else had survived this long. He felt guilty about that as well. His continued survival and refusal to die was an insult to all those here. Apart from Kevin the counselor who sat at the back telling everyone else to ignore him. Sometimes he'd come up front and deliver a homily addressing a particular person or the whole group. It was always delivered in the same calm, monotonous tone. Every hint of emotion removed.
Jake didn't want to but, as the senior member of the group, felt obliged to start proceedings by being the first one to speak. There was a new member, he still hadn't met, who would need in introduction to the group therapy dynamic. Jake told them about his session with Dr or Mr Henderson. Not the details of the invisible flies and the other weird stuff. A candid account of what he'd undergone.
"It's quite clear Henderson is overjoyed with my condition. The bugger is excited about me dying I'm sure. He can almost see his name on the paper he's planning to write about my brain growth." A couple of the more heavily medicated were already beginning to drop off to sleep as he spoke. He had to liven this up or stop. "I don't know what it is but for my entire life I've always known I was in the wrong place. Wherever I go, through the good times and the bad, it's always at the back of my mind. I shouldn't be here. But I don't know where I should be."
He indicated he'd finished and the next member hesitantly began to talk about their grandchildren coming to visit them. Try as he might Jake couldn't keep his attention from wandering. He jumped at the tap on his shoulder. Crap he'd been spotted drifting off. A feminine voice whispered in his ear that she'd like to have a word with him after. At which point smoke filled the room. Dense grey smoke containing grotesque whirling shapes, one of which was the spitting image of Paddington Bear. In silhouette of course. The only question was which of either of these things were real. The whisper or the smoke that no one else was aware of. The smoke vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Now there were purple horses, with two horns, galloping across an expanse of water just outside the second floor window. It struck him that all these things might occur when he was distracted or ruminating on something. Maybe he should write that up in his diary of death for Dr/Mr Henderson. This week, Kevin didn't do any little speeches. Instead he walked around being caring and wise.
"Can I buy you a coffee?"
Another jump cut had happened. From sitting in the counselling circle to him standing at the coffee machine. His reaction the same as always. He hoped he hadn't missed anything important.
"The coffee is free. It's dreadful but it's free."
"I know. I'm flirting with you on the cheap. Are you available and interested?"
His instinctive reply of no died on his lips when he turned. This must be Sharon, the newbie. Tall and blonde. Impossible to gauge her age. She looked fifty but that could be whatever she was ill with. She was thin but not skinny and it was obvious she'd once been a super attractive woman. He tried to say no again. It wouldn't come out.
"Mmm I might be. Who's asking?"
Did he mean to say that? It had seemed right as it came out of his mouth.
"Sharon. Sharon Metcalfe. I'm the new one. Ovarian cancer has spread throughout my entire body. I've got secondaries from my feet to my head. That's very rare they told me. I'm slightly jealous of you being the subject of a medical paper if I'm honest."
They shook hands. Despite her frail appearance Sharon's grip was strong. He caught himself gazing into her pale blue eyes. With a little circle of brown around the pupils. He should stop staring and let go of her hand. He'd do that at some point. She smiled at him. Her eyes did at least.
"I almost asked what brings you here. I'm not good at small talk."
"Me neither. Do you fancy some no strings sex? I like to get straight to the point."
In spite of the shock he couldn't help grinning. Her attitude was refreshing. No games or messing.
"Aren't you supposed to buy me a meal and get me drunk first?"
"Tell you what. I'll make you a meal then we can both get drunk and naked and see what happens."
"You might be severely disappointed there. I'm pretty sure I'm dead from the waist down."
She shrugged.
"I've resurrected a few penises in my time." Sharon polished her nails on her top. "I do love a challenge."
"It'll definitely be a challenge. If you can find it that is. Will you still respect me afterwards?"
"Well I don't now, so it's unlikely. How about I promise not to spit on you."
"I'm tempted, but I don't want you to think I'm easy."
"Damn. I was sure you were."
"I am. I just don't want you to think it."
"Friday evening my place. Come over any time after six in the evening. I'll give you my address."
This was complete lunacy. His sex drive was missing presumed dead. They had the life expectancy's of may flies. This had all the hall marks of a huge disaster.
"I look forward to it Sharon Metcalfe. Sorry but I have to ask, was it you who tapped me on the shoulder earlier?"
"I did." She looked down between them then back up at his face. "I'm going to need my hand back to write down my address for you."
He was still holding Sharon's hand. What was going on here? Jake released his grip.
"You don't have to do the full reveal of your condition you know. Some of the members can be a bit funny about that. Most aren't."
"What about you?"
"I don't mind either way. Sometimes I wish I did. I missed out either the first four, or the first six, of the stages of grieving and went straight to acceptance you see."
"So did I. Only I don't plan on dying. I've worked out an escape route that means I won't be here when it happens. There you go. My address, telephone numbers and the time and date for our first date."
Jake took the scrap of paper from her and looked at it.
"I thought you meant this Saturday. The 17th is the week after."
"Sorry. I have to be somewhere else this Saturday. I'd forgotten. I'll still see you at group next week. Don't be too brokenhearted."
"I'll suck it up. Is this the bit where I'm supposed to show interest in what you're doing this Saturday?"
"No. This is the bit where I say goodbye until next week. There's somewhen I need to be."
With that she was gone. At which point Kevin hurried over.
"Sharon forgot her purse Jake could you go after her for me. I'm dealing with a bit of a crisis."
Jake hurried out of the door and down the stairs. No sign of Sharon anywhere. There was a vast, near empty, car park in front of him. No way she could have gotten away that fast surely. He went back inside but she wasn't there either. Shit, he'd had another mini blackout of course. Oh Christ he'd have her purse for a whole week now. It had become as intriguing and interesting as her. Now he'd have to resist all temptation to look in it. Especially given that he now had a mild suspicion he'd been played. Beautiful women didn't act like that with average men like him. She might have given him a fake address and numbers. He could check in her purse. Or he could stop being a dick making excuses to be nosy. Rather than return to the group he set off to catch his bus home. Kevin might offer to hold onto that purse. Currently it was the only proof he had that Sharon existed.
An hour or so later he stepped through his own front door. He searched for a place to put the purse. Somewhere it was so prominent he wouldn't forget it yet not too easy to access. Those contradictory conditions couldn't be satisfied though. So he placed it in his coat pocket. The one he always carried his phone in, when he wore it. If he wore it. The heavy thumping music started upstairs. Kruger was at it again. That noise would go on until 3 or 4 in the morning making sleep impossible. Jake cursed his luck. However it did provide a great excuse for smoking some more of that weed he'd bought off Tony. Jake fetched his pipe and put a new gauze in. He didn't want to risk contaminating the ultimate in ganja. Not tonight at least. Bang on the TV for some Netflix and use his headphones. Whilst not having the range of selection that Toby did with snacks, Jake knew he had this covered. He'd bought some more cheese strings. Wandering into the kitchen he fetched them and a couple of cans of coke. The three rolls of aluminium foil were tempting him. He'd stick with the calcium for now. The foil would be heavy on his stomach.
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The rest of the week was quiet. Most of the week was always quiet but this week was quieter, because he cancelled his one to one counselling session with Kevin. What was the point? There never had been one. All they did was go over the same old stuff every time. In Kevin's position Jake would have given up long ago. So he left a message on Kev's answerphone. He hated them. Never knew what to say. Keeping it short and simple was best. He was going to have to cancel the scheduled session due to problems. This almost went to plan. Having rehearsed exactly what he'd say Jake still found the need to elaborate this into an even bigger lie. Seizing some self control he slammed the receiver down. Then he picked it up and pressed the cancel call button on his smartphone. Sod it. Now he'd have to explain that as well. It would be played back tomorrow with the whole phone shambles. Crap.
With that preying on his mind it was only to be expected he'd end up outside the building where Kevin's office was. Perfectly acceptable to that Jake had arrived there by stepping out of his front door to check his mail box in the lobby. It was Saturday though. Kevin wouldn't be there. The building would be open as there were a couple of other medical services which operated out of it. Still it did seem as though he'd found something out about his frequent, irregular loss of hours in his day. Some part of his infested brain must be working. Shame it didn't have a calendar. That was his office, up there on the top floor. The lights were on though. A shadow darkened the blinds. It wasn't beyond the realms of possibility that Kevin was doing some overtime. He should check. Entering the building Jake headed for the lift. Passing a young cleaning woman on the way. He bade her good morning. In the hope this would prevent her from challenging his presence here out of normal hours. The poor girl looked worn out. Giving him a feeble smile and wishing him a good morning back. He'd guess she was Polish or maybe Russian. She had Slavic features. Jake hoped that wasn't racist to think. High cheekbones and those tilted cats eyes.
Stepping out on the top floor he walked along the corridor. Heading for Kevin's offices. They were still there. That was a bonus, because he was sure there'd been a lot more doors on this floor the last time he'd been here. All along the right side. Now there was only one and a couple of frosted windows. Jake entered without knocking, there was no one out front and shouting didn't feel right. Hot humid air engulfed him as soon as the door was opened. It smelled funny to. Spicy and quite earthy. Cinnamon and hot plant compost unless he was mistaken. Hint of pipe tobacco to, unless that was the product of the other two combining. He was still puzzling that out as he rather rudely opened the door to Kevin's inner sanctum and therapy room. Not to worry though that wasn't Kevin seated at the computer. Height, weight, build and sex were all wrong. Was he in the right place? Everything else matched. Apart from the missing doors along the corridor. The woman, sat at his therapists desk, wore an over sized white lab coat that very nearly drowned her. She had her booted feet up on the desk and the keyboard on her lap as she typed.
"Excuse me. What are you doing in Kevin's office?" The woman held up a hand to forestall him. "I want to know what you are doing in Kevin's office please. There is highly confidential information held here."
Jake took a step back as she looked up at him with annoyance.
"No." She barked loudly "I demand to know what you're doing here This office is closed on weekends. I should know. I had to frigging break in." Her voice softened to a standard conversational tone. "It is the weekend isn't it? I'm not getting that wrong am I. Time is so.... changeable isn't it."
"It's Saturday."
"Oh thank God for that. I thought it felt like a really shitty Friday. Boy that would have been embarrassing."
"Who are you?" Jake asked.
The woman looked down at the badge dangling from her lab coats top pocket.
"Senoj Luap?" She tilted the badge slightly upwards. "Oh no sorry. Paul Jones is my moniker. Don't wear it out. Don't wear it at all is my advice."
"Paul? Jones?"
"I know. My parents had a weird sense of humor or my father was drunk when he registered my birth. It's a family name? There was a mix up at the maternity hospital? I'm trans-sexual and haven't picked my new name yet? Tell me to stop as soon as you find one you like."
"Whoever you are, what the hell are you doing here?"
"Updating my Facebook profile. Which is a bitch when you don't know what your own name is. Think of a password."
"Sorry?"
"No. It has to be at least 8 characters long I'm afraid. Now hush up. I'm a bit busy."
"Why.." Something big black and gun like was being pointed at him. Unlike any weapon he'd ever seen.
"Because I say so. Unless you're tired of living."
"I'm dying already. I have a terminal brain tumor."
"And still he keeps talking. Whiny little bitch ain't ya." She mimed scrubbing her eye with her left hand. "Boo hoo. How sad. Grow a set you spineless turd. Or I'll gun you down."
Saying which she pulled the trigger several times. Most of the water the gun squirted caught him in the face. He pulled out a tissue and wiped himself.
"That was childish."
"I know." The woman unplugged a funny looking connector from one of the computers ports. "Finished. I'm going now. I could give you a lift if you like. Go on Jake live a little. Before you're cast off into eternity."
"How do you know my name?"
"Well duh. You just watched me hack the computer. How do you think I know your name? At first I thought it was a very unflattering picture but now I've seen you I find it's captured your essence. Come on sweet cheeks. Let's go for a ride of joy."
"I cannot believe I'm saying this. I do not know you and I certainly have no reason to trust you. So okay, lead on."
(The funny will be here soon)
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I would like to nominate @prospiracy and @traf for the next round.
hiveblocks