lord buttons

marta. marta is a beautiful creature. splendid was always the first thing that came to mind. but more like seeing a swan unfurl. ah! splendid! it's almost like an endorphin rush that comes hurtling out when i see something so lovely. i should add that the swan metaphor for me runs deep after being mauled by one as a child. so splendid to behold but i was apprehensive of the fury that lines their insides at any given time.
it's in my nature to be mindful of precarious associates. layers of first hand experience on top of the nut house topped off with enough fool sense to be wary of those prone to loud outbursts. but that was my inward hysteria and moodiness, not like i stalked them with a butterfly net in social situations. marta had deemed that there was enough time to stop in for 25 minutes to hang out with me. it fit The Schedule.
she twisted her pendant around three times and attempted to settle into the couch as she looked around at the turtle sticker at BEST cleaning job in my living room. have you ever tried to clean a month of apathy in the time it takes for a clean freak friend to smash the buzzer to hoof it up 22 floors of stairs until they knock on the door? nice try, only you didn't really try...
"Well, nice to see you. haven't seen you since you organized that protest during the biggest award ceremony in my industry... saw some fascist pigs drag you off with the aid of truncheon rod. how'd that work out?"
"i have a lawsuit pending against the city."
"to be clear, you threw a lit container of gas at a cop on a horse. the animal rights faction couldn't have been happy on that move."
"i couldn't see out of my bandanna. it was never my intention to hurt the police officer on the horse. i... i over shot it."
i rocked back on the couch and let out a screechy chimp laugh. "OVER SHOT IT! that's amazing. how's lord buttons doing?"
"couldn't tell you... thought you were the one who donated to cover all the vet bill expenses. mighty kind of you."
"oh fuck, you know me. i'm a sucker for an animal. plus the thing is a huge tax write off. like massive going to save me from paying out next year..." she was looking down with a sour drawn face. there was .5% chance of tears. it's happened. but not in front of me. odds-wise, i don't think that i'm in a lot of danger.
i eased back. time to bring it back to something less Code Red.
"marta, why are you here?"
"remember when we lived together and you called me an autistic cyborg?"
"yep."
"remember when i moved out in a huff after you said that?"
do i remember holding down a desk job and working nights at the porno video store to cover your share of the rent you impulsive shit flame?
shaking my head i looked into my wine glass for the magic eight ball sign. it came up with nothing useful other than it's consistent message of Drink Me.
After a mouthful i decided on a small, "yes i remember."
she dove into her bag like a hawk in search for what she needed. i immediately assumed it was some sort of weapon she was going to kill me with. i was relieved when it was just a folded wave of paper.
opening it i skimmed through the title and some bolded headings. 5 second observation determined that it was a review on determining if marta was, in fact, autistic.
i handed the paper back. "this is really private stuff. i shouldn't read it."
she jutted her arm out and awkwardly pushed the paper back at me. "c'mon marta, don't do this. i know you're autistic. i told you this 3 years ago... you ruined my fucking porno party the ONE FUCKING YEAR they let me have full control of it. was that intentional? i need to know."
"NO! it's fucking disgusting any year. i had no idea it was you putting it on. i'm SORRY if i ruined your misogynist parade."
"i'm sorry you tried to make smoked meat horse sandwiches out of lord buttons!"
she clapped two long hands over her face. "NATHAN! I'M SORRY!"
only it sounded more muffled underneath her palms.
i let it hang hard in the air until she peeked out her fingers.
"sorry is fantastic. my boss is still suing you for all the, you know, libel, and defamation of character stuff. and the arson."
"i know, he can sue all he wants, i'm not going to get charged. these documents from tests show that i'm not thinking on the same level as you. i can't be held responsible for this and thus won't be paying out anything."
that's it. time to herd a hissy giant out the door. time to get in touch with that swan terror. good god i'm pretty high right now, maybe i should hold off for a bit?
"c'mon marta, out. see you in court."
"you'll be there?"
"no, it's a fucking figure of speech. i'll be in my office working while you're in court."
she tried to push the papers back at me as i hustled her backwards to the door. i cordially held open the door as i pushed her out into the hall and huck the paper onto the floor.
clack snap all the locks shut and i give a small phew. taking stock of the living room i shook my head in sudden realization. why in the FUCK did i rush to clean things up for her?! isn't it amazing how the body and mind remains trained after all those years?