LYSERGICALLY YOURS

(Free E-Book)
by Frank Duff



This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike License.

To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/1.0/ or send a letter to:

Creative Commons
559 Nathan Abbott Way
Stanford
California
94305
USA.


Published by:
Insurgent Productions and No Media Kings (TORONTO)

ISBN: 0-9734807-0-X

Frank Duff likes getting mail at: duff@frankduff.com.

The dead-tree edition of Lysergically Yours, perfect bound and with cover art by Max Meyer and Adam Lonero, can be purchased at http://frankduff.com.

Further writings of Frank Duff's can also be found at the site.


For Boot

And with thanks to:

Courtney Lake, Nyala Ali, Jordan Powley, Kris Hill, Adam Lonero, Max Meyer, Robert Hopewell, Pat and Howard McCourt, all the K5ers and everyone else without whom this book would never have existed.


Ten hits of acid in my veins,
orbiting tacitly my brain,
preparing ere they take the plunge,
despairing there for thoughts expunged,
but never ones to needless linger,
and knowing well the hapless bringer,
of these events upon himself,
they wasted moments not in stealth,
and those sacred halls did enter,
driving straight toward the centre,
where Reason met in consultation,
with others of important station--
included at this fine reception,
were Poise, Discretion and Perception,
and others who would be confused,
to find soon their persons disabused,
of the quaint outdated notion,
that real earth and real ocean,
existed ever on their own,
without a mind to call their home.



-=one=-

They occupied most of their time with a card game called Bop Ngo, or something similar. A scandalous event had occurred when Johnny tried to actually pronounce the name of the game once. Every one of his captors immediately tried to correct him and to explain the proper pronunciation. They succeeded in communicating exactly nothing, until Thoc had the brilliant idea of writing the word out for Johnny. This enabled him to immediately identify it as one of the-words-with-lots-of-circles. This had the secondary benefit of simultaneously eliminating it from his only other category for Korean words, being: the-words-with-not-so-many-circles.

The method of play of this game apparently consisted largely of putting down unimportant cards to lull your opponents into a false sense of security. Then suddenly someone would lay down a card belonging to a special subset for which the rules of the game demanded that all players immediately start yelling and gesticulating as loudly and frantically as possible. The fracas would escalate to near jumbo-jet-landing magnitude until suddenly all players would pull out their cell phones and continue to squawk loudly into the phones which would then register on their clamour-o-meters (a feature apparently present in all Korean cell phones) which player had contributed most powerfully to the pandemonium, that player then receiving one point and play continuing. Johnny had tried at one point to determine exactly which cards belonged to this special category. His most successful theory had been the short-lived but glorious 'odd-numbered-red-cards-higher-than-six theory'. It was however contradicted three days after its conception by a controversial seven of squids play (squids being a green suit).

There were very few allowable interruptions to Bop Ngo. The most common being shift change. There would be a jangling of keys and a click-clack of the door being unbolted from outside. Then two men would enter fully rested or, more often, hungover and two others would leave. Truth be told though, this rarely interrupted the game for more than a moment; the new arrivals often simply picking up the discarded hands of their predecessors and continuing from where the game had left off. Generally, the only other thing that superseded Bop Ngo was food; four generous meals a day.

There were no cards being played just then however, and for neither of those reasons; there were gunshots outside. From the sounds of things, there would very shortly be gunshots inside. Johnny looked around for a place to hide or, failing that, something to be used as a weapon. Not surprisingly, considering he was in a cell, there was little in the way of either to be found. It's come to this then, he thought, digging into his pocket. When his captors had searched Johnny they had failed to notice the concealed second pocket inside the right hip pocket of his pants. The fact that they had searched him as one would search for weapons rather than for drugs was a sure sign that they had no idea why it was that there was such a huge price on Johnny's head. To be fair, Johnny wasn't exactly sure himself. He had sewn the pocket there himself in order to secret away his acid in the case of being hassled by the cops. He had never ended up needing it for that purpose. But now he drew out a dime bag containing a torn and crumpled square of blotter, maybe five hits worth. The gunfire was growing more sporadic, time was running out. Quickly, so as not to allow himself time to reconsider, he shoved the acid under his tongue.

Continue to Chapter 2

Buy the Book!

Back to Table of Contents