Darkness… Night… Shifting images, never coming into focus… Floating in timeless space… And then…
"How do you veel, Master Sagit?"
Memories flooded back. Sagit - yes - Bob Sagit. My name…
Bob's eyes fluttered open. Slowly, the metal walls of a cramped, poorly-lit room came into view. A horrid clown-like face floated before him, just a few inches from his nose, twisted in a churlish grin, its paper-white skin stretched across its skull like a drum-skin stretched across a Port-o-Potty.
"You are vree now," it said. "We have safed you vrom that dreadvul place."
That voice… was it… Ashley? - No - Mary-Kate… One of the two.
"W-what's… going -"
A thin hand flew out of nowhere and slapped him across the face.
"Silence!" the creature screamed. "You will be silent now! Ashley, it is time. Get the grafy."
"Huh…?"
Bob watched in horror as a second, identical creature arrived, bearing a gravy-boat in her emaciated hands. Before he could react in any way, a ladle appeared in the creature's grip and began drizzling hot gravy over his face. Bob sputtered and screamed.
One of the sisters said, "The grafy must be hot. It is the only way."
A gob landed in Bob's eye. He screamed, and he was screaming the same word over and over again: "Why!"
The drizzling stopped suddenly. Bob, unable to open his eyes, gasped in pain, trying to catch his breath.
One of the girls said, "Grafy has regeneratife properties, Master Sagit."
A gentle hand touched his cheek. Bob froze in place, trembling with fear.
"You are hurt," said Mary-Kate Olsen. "But we will rebuild you."
Then the kindness left her voice, the ladling began again, and the gravy came, drizzling over his face for many long and painful hours.