Recently I’ve been having a cold, only it’s been accompanied by a high fever, something I always get when I have a cold, or even sick at all. Anyway, until it broke there a day ago, I was bed-ridden and hallucinating. I know I was hallucinating because I distinctly remember being awake when some of this shit happened. It was a weird vision, but anyway, here’s what I can remember of it.
(Brian lies in bed, sweating profusely.)
Voice: Yo, wake up dawg.
Brian: What? Who the – … who or what are you?
(Brian sees a stereotypical rapper standing over him. Bling, backwards hat, American football jersey, ridiculously oversized trousers etc.)
Rapper: Dawg, I’m your spirit guide.
Brian: Aw fuck, don’t tell me Joe spiked my drinks again.
Rapper: Nope, you’re just envisioning me because you’re delirious with fever (Squints) Oh yeah, word, dawg.
Brian: Well, since I’ve fuck all else to do, why are you here?
Rapper: Shit if I know man, it’s yo’ vision. Anyways, order yo’self up a big bucket of fried chicken, you muthafucka.
Brian: Why is my spirit guide a total stereotype?
(A table and chairs appear. A bucket of KFC is on the table; the spirit guide is eating chicken while Bob Geldof is singing I Don’t Like Mondays.)
Bob: You know I actually don’t like Mondays. Statistics show that people listen to me less on Monday.
Rapper: Bob, people don’t listen to you much anyways, man. Have some fried chicken.
(Bob sits down and takes a piece of chicken.)
Bob: Who’s this focker?
Brian: Brian Damage. Pleased to meet you too Bob.
Bob: Would you like to focking give a shit about my new campaign? It’s called iPhones for Orphans. I promise free iPhones for starving children in the poverty and disease ridden hovels of Dundalk if you just give me 10% of your lifetime savings.
Brian: Ah no, you’re okay.
(Cassie appears, dressed with a basket of fruit on her.)
Brian: Cassie, what are you doing here?
Cassie: Oh, I’m not Cassie, Brian. Just a vision of all the women you’ve been with down through the years.
Brian: We could be here a while so! High five anyone?
Bob: I must be off. I have to visit some people in Kerry who have to walk twenty miles every day to get water. Hi-ho Geldof, away!
(Bob puts on a cape and flies away.)
Rapper: Man, you try sharing a room with him. That dude’s one crazy muthafucka. Yo Brian, if you finished oglin’ yo’ exes and some fat muthafuckin’ women, we ready to move on?
Brian: Yeah, sure.
(Scene dissolves and Brian finds him placed beside Jerky Joe, dressed in a ghillie suit and holding a sniper rifle. Joe is the same way.
Joe: Brian, I’ve just received intel that the Politician Liberation Army is going to attack our position soon. we’ve got to hold them off until we can get an evac chopper. Understood?
Brian: Joe, I don’t know how to use these.
Joe: Just press the Right Trigger button.
Brian: This isn’t a fucking video game!! How do i use these?
Joe: Just look at the damn gun.
(Brian does and finds there is a Xbox 360 controller where the trigger should be.)
Brian: This is one seriously fucked up dream.
Joe: You’re telling me. We thought those democracy loving bastards were pinned down in Leinster House but they managed to fight their way out. Cost the 112th Stick Beating Battalion some damn good men. Get ready brian, here they come.
(Brian looks through the scope and sees a load of people wearing cheap suits and wielding bits of paper charging towards them. Brian takes aim and presses the trigger button. A piece of paper flies out.)
Brian: Joe, where are the damn bullets?!
Joe: These rifles fire votes of no confidence. You didn’t seriously think bullets could kill politicians, did you?
(Brian shakes his head in disbelief and fires a vote of no confidence at a screaming politician. He drops to the ground, his face contorted in agony.)
Brian: Son of a bitch.
(Pothead Paul appears.)
Paul: Someone call me?
Joe: Paul, gab one of these rifles and get shooting. I’ve just heard that they’re planning to send in the Panzerharney to take us out so we’ll need all the help we can get. Brian, take that Panzerfaust there and hide in the bushes until it passes. Then fire in at the weak armour on the rear. Got that?
Brian: Fine. Cover me until then.
Joe: Hold them off! Oh shit!
(Enda Kenny leaps from the bushes brandishing a Manifesto for Change. Je grabs the butt end of his rifle and swings it into Kenny’s face, leaving him sprawling on the ground.)
Joe: God damn it, when will this fucking war ever end? We’ve been fighting these bastards for twelve years now!
(A tank rolls into the battlefield. The look of shock on Joe and Paul’s faces is palpable. They stand there frozen in shock as the tank turns its turret to face them.)
Brian: Here goes nothing.
(Fires the Panzerfaust which explodes on the tank, disabling it. Millions of euro in unmarked notes spill out.)
Joe: We’re rich! It’s like that film Three Kings!
(Scene dissolves again. Brian then finds himself sitting on a chair, under a spotlight in a black room.)
Brian: Christ, how many more cliches is this hallucination going to use?
Disembodied Voice: Brian Damage, you ahve disturbed the sound of silence. Now you must spend eternity listening to the entire Simon and Garfunkel back collection!!
Brian: That’s not a punishment. I like Simon and Garfunkel.
(Sound of Silence begins playing.)
Voice: Let’s here you say that when you hear this for the fifth sucessive time … now walk along this barren and desolate wasteland thinking about how much Simon and Garfunkel suffered!!!
Brian: Suffered how?
(No reply. The black room lights up and reveals a long road. The Rapper reappears.)
Rapper: Yo, that Simon and Garfunkel dude tried to pull some shit on you there?
Brian: Yeah. That’s him playing the music you hear.
Rapper: That crazy fool pulls that shit on everyone who comes here. He did it to Russell Crowe and Crowe threatened to poke his eyes out. That shut him up. Anyway Brian, it’s time to wake up.
Rapper: (speaking in a women’s voice) Please wake up.
Brian: Dude, what’s wrong with you?
Rapper: Come on Brian, please wake up.
I woke up then, and saw that Cassie was sitting beside me.
‘Thank God, I thought you were going to stay that bad.’
‘But it’s about 7 in the morning, what are you doing here?’
“It’s nearly three. You’ve been screaming in your sleep all night. I rang your phone, but your mother told me you were sick with fever so I came up to see you. It’s about half two now.’
‘Shit … I better go have a shower. Thanks for coming. You want to head out?’
‘Brian, your hallucination may be over, but don’t be an idiot. Your fever’s nowhere near broken. Feel your forehead.’
I did. It was like a fucking hotplate.
‘Back to bed for you so. ‘
‘You won’t join me?’
‘More like your old self now, eh? I’ll get you some 7-Up.’
Awesome to the max. The only way I could sum up that weird shit is by showing two videos.
That for the aural representation of the dream.
This because it’s a kick ass song.