125 lines
6.5 KiB
Plaintext
125 lines
6.5 KiB
Plaintext
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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #579
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`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
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888 888 888 888 888 "Love's Labour's Lost"
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888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
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888 888 888 888 888 " by Darwin
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888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 4/14/99
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o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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It was the middle of March when Paul's dreams began to change. At
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first he thought it was because his diet had changed, or because he had
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stopped smoking so much marijuana all the time. Then, he thought that it
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might be an alien intelligence trying to contact him. Then, he thought
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that it might be due to climate change, ozone depletion, sickle cell
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anemia, solar radiation or localized frontal lobe seizures. The actual
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reason was far worse than any of that.
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Around the end of March, Paul got so worried that he went to see a
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Doctor. When his Doctor asked him the symptoms, Paul very calmly recited
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the story of a gripping police drama, torn from the headlines. It seems
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that a man had sent a bomb to the District Attorney's Office as revenge
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for the prosecution of his brother. Not understanding, the Doctor asked
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him for the symptoms again. This time, he told the humorous tale of a
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frustrated Big-City girl with bad luck in love. She tried time and again
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to find the right man, but each man she met was flawed in some hilarious
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and awkward way. Hearing this, the Doctor hurriedly wrote Paul a
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prescription for Hydrocodone and left without saying anything.
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The scrip was for 20 pills (and a refill), one of which should be
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used if and when Paul experienced another episode. With the wonders of
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medical science at his disposal, Paul relaxed noticably and found himself
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whistling as he prepared dinner. After finishing his meal, he put some
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mellow music on and lay down on his couch to read a book. It was a book
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about ways that unsuccessful people change their habits and become
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successful and wealthy people.
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The next thing he knew, Paul was looking at the side of an
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Expressway. A smooth voiceover explained that the driver of the
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Recreational Vehicle on this particular road had missed his exit and had
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decided the solution was backing up the on-ramp. One smart aleck quip and
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multi-car collision later, Paul jerked awake. Shaky and disoriented, he
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eventually managed to get the pill bottle open. He lay down on top of his
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sheets and didn't wake up for the rest of the night.
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Paul didn't go to work that morning, and before lying down to
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sleep that night he took another pill. His office called and left messages
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for him, but they stopped after a week or so. His carefree attitude and
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cheerful demeanor were replaced by the blankness of a chronic chemically
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depressed zombie. The only time Paul left his apartment was to buy snacks
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at the gas station next door and when he got his scrip refilled.
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After about a month of haze, Paul's scrip ran out. He called his
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Doctor, but he was informed by the answering service that the Doctor had
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no office hours on the weekend. She told him that the Doctor was only to
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be called in an Emergengy. Paul begged her to call him, but she insisted
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he tell her what the Emergency was. A stream of words rose into an almost
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inchoerent whine as Paul desperately explained that he needed more
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medication.
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The answering service called him a junkie and hung up.
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Faced with the loss of his only respite from the attacks, Paul
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decided the only solution was to not sleep. He started with coffee but
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eventually moved to a diet of bread, milk and ephedrine diet pills. There
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were some close calls, but Paul made it two and a half weeks in sleepless
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relative comfort.
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Two and a half weeks is when Paul started hearing voices. It began
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almost inaudibly, but within days he was hearing reports of babies being
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shaken to death by their parents, houses burning down, bombs falling on
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people. Occasionally, he heard a story about a student athelete or a
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health breakthrough that promised dramatic new results in the treatment of
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something or other.
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Paul checked all the walls, all the drains, everything, but
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couldn't find the source of the voices. He started playing his music as
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loud as possible to try to drown them out. When maximum volume wasn't
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enough, Paul started howling at the top of his lungs.
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He was still howling when the Police arrived.
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After being arrested for resisting arrest, Paul (still screaming),
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was thrown into the drunk tank of the local precinct. Unfortunately, the
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drunks appreciated his deranged yelling even less than his neighbors or
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the Police, and Paul was quickly and brutally knocked out cold.
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The next thing he knew, an Angel was helping him with his burden.
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God knew that Paul was a good man, and good men are helped by Angels in
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their time of need.
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The Angel comforted a battered and bruised Paul and led him into a
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brilliant white light.
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As Paul opened his eyes, he was surprised to see a criminal in
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Cowboy hat and boots embroiled in a gun fight with a similarly clad
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Sheriff. Not understanding, Paul closed his eyes, only to open them a
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short time later to the criminal being apprehended and placed into police
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custody. Paul was totally exhausted, and the next time he closed his eyes,
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he didn't wake up again for a day and a half.
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When Paul woke up again, he focused on the only movement in the
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room, which in this case was a scene of two men and a woman talking. The
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man talked about his latest album and then the other man and the woman
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joined him in a song.
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Paul hit the Nurse Call button.
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When the nurse arrived, Paul found out that he had been taken to
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the local hospital. The Police, in a singular and unprecedented act of
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mercy, had decided not to press charges for his "drunk and disorderly
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conduct", perhaps realizing that he had more serious problems.
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Paul's recovery was surprisingly quick. After only a week propped
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up in his white bed, watching people discuss and women fall in love and
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men shoot each other and politicians pretend to have motivations and
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products sell themselves, he felt much better. His Doctor pronounced him
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cured and he walked out of the hospital with a bounce in his step.
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Paul went home, took a box out of his closet, plugged it in and
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lived happily ever after.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #579 - WRITTEN BY: DARWIN - 4/14/99 ]
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