Marty Shambles

Steamboat Willie Vomits Rainbows at the Dick Sucking Factory

What is the measure of a mouse? Is it in a long lost heyday revisited in mind and diction daily? Is it a willingness to suck a bag of dicks to keep a roof over his head, however tenuously? Is it in a belly full of jism after a long day at the factory? Only God can judge.

Steamboat Willie awoke in black and white, on the couch, to the sound of Felix T. Cat coming in through the front door.

“Wake up, Mickey. I’ve got a present for you.”

The air was thin with stale smoke. Willie sat up and grabbed a Pall Mall. “I told you my name is Steamboat Willie.”

“You’ve gotta quit living in the past, man. You had one role 40 years ago. Let it go. Besides, everyone calls you Mickey.”

Steamboat Willie lit the cigarette, dangling by the grip of his lips. “It’s hard to be nobody again after being somebody.” He took a long, regretting drag from his cigarette. “Just a point of mockery in my near-feral state. I want to be Willie. But perhaps I’m just Mickey.”

Felix sat on the chair near Mickey. “Those residual checks can barely pay for your smokes anymore. It’s time to give up the ghost and think about your next move.”

Mickey said, “I don’t know…”

“Here. Stick out your tongue. This will make you feel better.”

Felix was always bringing in various health tinctures, so Mickey didn’t think anything of it. Felix dropped 10 fat drops onto Mickey’s tongue.

“What was that?”

“It’s some really high quality LSD. You’re going to trip for days.”

Mickey’s eyes widened, “What! I can’t trip now! I have work in 30 minutes!”

Felix lit a joint and laughed, “Yeah well, I wouldn’t recommend going in. Your job sucks. Literally. Go be a fry cook or something. Then you’ll only have to suck metaphorical dicks.”

Mickey got up and started pacing. He resembled a locomotive, pacing and smoking. “This pays better than a fry cook. And I’m just two months away from getting healthcare. Then I can get surgery for my fucked up jaw.”

“Your jaw is only fucked up because you suck dicks all day for your job. And you hate it. You hate sucking dicks.”

“I can’t believe you dosed me, dude. That’s pretty fucked up.”

Felix toked and choked as he said, “Just don’t go in, homie. We can have an arts and crafts day.”

Minnie’s voice bellowed from the other end of the house, “Are you getting high before work again?” She came out of her bedroom, fully bathed and professionally dressed. “I’m tired of covering for you, Mickey. I got you this job and you’re making me look bad.”

Mickey looked ashamed, “Yeah, I don’t think I can go in today. Felix dosed me with 10 hits of liquid acid.”

Minnie said, “That’s your choice, but if you don’t go into work, you can find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I’m tired of this shit, Mickey.” She didn’t yell. It was more of an exasperated tone.