"you're covered with shit, but the knit is all sweet and pretty."
While I wanted to tell him that it wasn't an awful knit, I thought better of it. "It's self-cleaning," I said, hoping it might impress them. "It also has a temperature control system. My tailor is famous. He's from outside Seattlehama. It's probably worth . . . " Since I had never directly paid, I had no idea. "Maybe seventy-five billion?"
I saw green and red bits of food on Bunny's tongue when he laughed. "You're a fucking round sugar pill. Stupid and blank."
"I'm not sure exactly," I said. "My family buys them."
His fist came at me in a blur and hit me in the gut. Next, I was on the ground trying to get air back into my lungs.
"Don't be stupid," he said, wiping the drip from his nose. "I'm intelligent, disease-boy! And your ugly, gray, sick jacket isn't even worth a good shit."
As the woman came to my side, she said, "You've got a bad testosterone imbalance!" to Bunny.
"Fuck you!" he screamed, then opened a small jar and tossed several tiny emerald tablets onto his tongue.
When the rest of the men teased Bunny, he hit the back of the woman's head and knocked her across me. As three others helped her up, I saw that the lid on her belly had fallen off. Inside was a wrinkled daffodil of purple and pink flesh. I turned away as she grabbed the lid and snapped it back on.
"No looking," said Kandi angrily. "That's ten right there!"
"You contaminated whore!" said Bunny. "I'm taking him in for recycling. You take all your fake cunts and get out!"
"Go have a cell storm!" she scoffed. From a beaded red bag, she got out a pill and popped it into her mouth. As though it gave her strength, she stood, and said, "Don't get near me." She grasped my arm, yanked me up, and nearly dislocated my shoulder. I tried not to cry out. "Come on," she said, tugging my hand, "we're going."
"No, you're not!" Bunny grasped my other arm and the two of them played tug-of-war with me. I lost my footing, and when she let go, fell face first in the mud.
Then I heard shouting and feet going in all directions. Pushing myself up, I saw three large men dressed in orange satin skiing down the sandy embankment where I had fallen. Family satins! I was saved.
The one in front, who wore a helmet with a gold visor, hoisted a clear fashion rifle to his shoulder. He fired. An orange streak zipped through the air. To my right, I heard a soft thud. Someone in the distance screamed. Then it was quiet.
"Michael Rivers?" asked the satin in the gold visor, as he stepped before me.
"Yes." I coughed. "Thank you."
Grasping me under the arms, he lifted me, and threw me over his shoulder. From there, I could see Kandi face up in the mud. Blood covered her implant. No! I thought, not her!
The Loop was blocked in both directions and an air-conditioned tent had been set up. To the left sat Ken, Xavid, and the film crew on folding chairs. On a puffy, orange, over-inflated marshmallow of a couch were Father and one of his women, like king and queen of the Loop. In his right hand he held a glass of his fermented carrot gunk. With his big pink straw, he idly poked at the stuff.
He wore white pants with little blinking blue dots all over them, a red shirt with RiverGroup logos and fornicating bunnies, and a tiny, frosty green vest that looked like it might properly fit an infant. His current girl had orange hair, blue lips, and the sort of haughty, upturned nose that he preferred. Her frilly, awful pink and green dress ended at her midriff so the whole world could see the orange-painted treats inside her translucent bloomers. I didn't see Joelene and figured he forbid her.
The satin had set me before them on a wooden crate. My whole body hurt. My right elbow throbbed as if it were shattered. When I wiped my mouth, I saw a brilliant smear of blood on the back of my hand. And even seated, I had trouble keeping myself upright. All I wanted was to be put out of my misery.
"So," said Father, "how's