And yet another familiar face - to the hog, at least, who's being addressed with both his names. Somebody that Tony must have done quite something for in the past... something important enough to risk your career for in return. Something binding enough that Tony-Ray must have, in his delirium, told the hippy chick to call for exactly this furson. Somebody akin to family.
The hippy chick should count herself lucky that she's no more than a hippy chick to her guest. Tony-Ray tends to tilt whenever you try to get too personal with him... or he to you... so he seems to keep his friends at a distance, for their own sake.
Which neatly divides his acquantances into old friends from times past, and newer, fleeting travelmates who sometimes unwittingly trespass into his dark inner hell, and rarely step out into the light ever again. How long does one have to survive the pig's presence to slide from the latter group into the former? Will Brice and Uthalla ever know?
_________________ A lone figure sits still by a pool - he's been stamped human bacon by some butchering tool - he is you...
Social Security took care of this lad - we watch in reverence - as Narcissus is turned to a flower
|