(Disclaimer: same as last chapter.)
I board the bus, my body in a zombie-like stiffness, at the end of the day, and sit next to my girlfriend Karma. She had also been at the assembly, but had very wisely chosen to sit in the back row. She had raised her hand to ask E. Gadd a question, which means that Gadd had, at one moment, been staring directly at her, so that she could fall victim to the swirlies. They were large enough to be noticed even from the back row, I am sure.
"K-Karma, when you asked E. Gadd your question, and he was looking straight at you… did you see the swirls on his glasses swirling round and round?"
"No. Don't tell me you have."
"Well, did you see them swirling when he was staring at me?"
Karma sighs and flips her perfumed blue hair. "No. Ludwig, you really need to lay off the Koopaccinos. The caffeine is messing with your head. And you also need to get more sleep. Studies have shown that sleep deprivation can cause hallucinations."
I absentmindedly play with Karma's hair, trying to identify the scent… exotic, fruity, or floral, with a hint of…
"Not to mention symptoms of ADD!" She pulls her hair away from me.
"But I've been sleeping more than usual lately!"
"Oh, well…" Karma briefly pauses, a pensive look on her face. "Maybe for your specific biochemistry, oversleeping is the equivalent of sleep deprivation in others."
"This has nothing to do with my sleep habits or my caffeine intake! It's…" I pause, not wanting to degrade myself with ineloquent "um's" and "uh's".
"You're scared of the Professor's glasses," says Karma. "You believe that they're haunted."
I swallow. "It's completely irrational, Even if is a ghost, why would it be messing with me?"
"It's something that you need to investigate. But honestly, Ludwig, I believe that you're going just a little bit crazy. But then, you were a little bit crazy to begin with."
Karma leaves the bus in the middle of town to walk to wherever she lives. She has never invited me to her place. For once, I am relieved for her to leave.
I get off at the Shellz station by the castle to get myself another Koopaccino, screw what Karma says. Today I am feeling like a caramel macchiato with a shot of hazelnut. I press large on the touch screen ordering kiosk, then I press for caramel, then I press for whipped cream and a double shot. The screen finishes my order without asking me what flavor I would like the extra shot to be, nor whether I would like a third shot.
Stupid make-to-order machine. I want a shot of caramel and a shot of hazelnut, but I can only get a double shot of one or the other. When my number comes up, I request another shot, this time of hazelnut.
The Troopa who had been making my drink sighed. "Sir, that will be another thirty cents."
As if to deter me, a wealthy Koopa prince, from imploring him to perform the hardship of pumping the nozzle of hazelnut flavor! "And I would also like a shot – no, a double shot of white chocolate.
"Another coin."
How exorbitant. I hand him a coin and a 30/100's of a coin piece.
"Plus tax."
I laugh and show him my royal ID, proof that any tax that gets paid by me just goes back to me anyway.
"All right, sir, here's your order, you have a nice day."
"You forgot the whipped cream." Whipped cream is free, dammit!
With false enthusiasm, the Troopa sprays a fancy dollop of whipped cream onto my drink. I take my special order without so much as a "thank you" for a tip. Insolent behavior such as his will not be tolerated once I am King. Had he been polite about it, he would have been rewarded for his additional service.
I suck down the hot drink, and I can feel the heat being generated from my caffeine-revved heart. My eyes begin to feel even wider and more protrusive than normal. I am now in my mad-scientist mode – just what I need to take my mind off the googly specs.
I have not been in my lab for one minute when I hear several claws knocking on my door.
"Who dares to disturb me!" I roar.
I open the door and find the angry faces of geniuses Wendy, Morton, Roy, and Lemmy.
"We don't want to be smart anymore!" shouts Wendy. "I am tired of being able to do differential equations in my head! It is real distracting when I'm trying to keep alert during a crazy sale!"
"And I can't enjoy my heavy-metal anymore!" screams Morton. "All I want to listen to now is Beethoven and Mozart and Bach shit!"
"And I… Well, I actually wanted to thank you personally for making me a smart cookie, Kooky," says Roy. He takes both of my hands and shakes them in his mighty grip. "You were right! Now I can intellectually mug all da nerds and da otha bullies as well!"
Lemmy says, "Well, I did learn how to juggle!" He begins to toss and catch smaller versions of the ball he was balancing on up and down. He staggers, and all of his balls fall to the floor.
"Must… not… juggle balls…" Lemmy convulses on his big ball, twitching like Iggy under a panic attack. "Must… juggle… matrix elements!"
Lemmy rolls off the ball. He climbs back on top of it, clutching his head.
"This brain is a burden, Ludwig. Please, rid me of it!"
Oh, brothers. I give them intelligence, and yet they're still not smart enough to use it.
"Where's Larry?" I ask. "Does he not want a refund for his brain as well?"
"I dunno, he's in his room programming a video game," said Morton. "Now, please, GIVE US OUR OLD BRAINS BACK!"
"Except for me!" says Roy, who swaggers away, whistling.
"Well, I am sorry, but right now the Geniusificator is at the school, so you will just have to wait until tomorrow," I told them.
Wendy, Morton, and Lemmy walk off, still angry but satisfied at least that they will be back to normal tomorrow.
I sigh. Perhaps I should practice my music tonight.
I head up to the high tower above my room where I keep the instruments. The acoustics up here are phenomenal. I begin to play spontaneously, which is probably not a good idea for tonight, because that is the method I normally use to interpret my emotions – and I want to change what I'm feeling, not dwell on it.
The melody of my mood is dark and sinister, as usual. I am chilled by the notes that my heart is playing. The notes repeat and repeat themselves cyclically, like the – perish the thought! I press the keys more frantically, and my heart dreads what will come next in the musical sequence.
It was an excellent song, but it was a fear song. I decide to play something light and cheery.
Light and cheery. Ugh. I am really not myself today. I must take my mind off of – no, I dare not even THINK it!
The sweet melody I am composing sounds false, with a sour note of thinly disguised fear.
I immediately switch to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Beautiful, uplifting, holy…
My trembling fingers slip and hit the wrong notes. Even worse, the wrong notes that I hit are exactly the right notes to transform the Ninth into a beautifully dark and hideous horror song.
Tonight is not the night for music. The tower is dark in the evening – an environment I normally find comforting, but tonight, in my current state of mind, I jump at every sudden sight and sound as if I had just seen or heard a specter-
"KIDS WHO WANTS TO VISIT THE GHOST HOUSE?"
I jump at my father's roar. Not me, not tonight. Tonight is definitely not the night for ghost house gallivanting.
Perhaps I should get some sleep…
One of the reasons why I hate sleep so much is that I have no control over my thoughts while I'm subconscious. Tonight, I did not want to relinquish that control. Still, I could use the comfort of lying in bed…
I pull apart the covers and sit up in my bed, playing with my iPhone so that I can distract my mind from thoughts of sleep. I use the castle's Wi-Fi to surf the internet for videos to watch. I am suddenly in the mood for cartoons.
Cartoons. Even as a child I had disdain for their puerile humor and slapstick violence. And yet, I find myself laughing, if somewhat hoarsely, at the characters being squashed.
I yawn. I regret forgetting to ask the Troopa at Shellz to put an extra shot of espresso in my drink. I lift myself out of bed to go downstairs to ask the royal kitchen staff to fix me a raspberry vanilla dark chocolate mocha. No, make that a raspberry vanilla white chocolate mocha. No darkness. I want –I need – light and fruity…
I do love writing in Ludwig's POV! So dark and twisted, like a darker, more arrogant version of me! Great way to let out one's personal angst. BTW, Shellz is a spoof of Sheetz, a gas station shop found only in the Allegheny region of the United States (Western Pennsylvania and the surrounding states).
Do stay tuned… the real horror has yet to begun…
Boy, am I smart!=P