Stories From The Head

Hats Of Despair Libanon was in big trouble. He’d just finished eating a sviska-cookie, and the effect was starting to kick in. He was hallucinating wildly, sweating, hungry, and, worst of all, OUTRAGEOUSLY HORNY. He’d eaten a couple of muhar-cookies in his life, but he wasn’t quite ready for the high you get from a sviska-cookie. “BLOW ME BACKWARDS” he screamed at the empty room in which he lived. It didn’t answer. It never did. Blåksberg the midget was getting off the bus, full of expectations. He was going to hook up with his college buddy, Libanon, and go on a muhar-cookie binge. He found Libanon in his empty room, making love to his own jacket, and immediately realized that something was wrong. “What have you taken, Libanon?” Libanon didn’t, nay, couldn’t answer. “Have you eaten bigga-jello?” Blåksberg started moving towards Libanon. “Answer me Libanon. HAVE YOU BEEN EATING BIGGA-JELLO? OR HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING AND/OR INHALING ZAZOO-MILK?” No answer. The jacket was getting frighteningly close to its climax. Suddenly, Libanon turned towards Blåksberg. “SVISKA-COOKIE, SVISKA-COOKIE!!!” he howled. Blåksberg calmed him down. He got out his muhar-cookie survival kit and fed Libanon several uncut muhar-cookies. It worked. They immediately decided to leave the room to go watch women trying on hats in the department store. Libanon and Blåksberg quite the veterans at this game. They entered the department store casually, speaking loudly of hats and other fashionable things. Then they scuffled behind a hat rack and started watching the good stuff. An old lady entered the store. The guys felt that tingling sensation, and looked at each other, smiling from cheek to cheek. The old lady first tried on a swanky, pink little item, but her blue hair was a bit shiny for that to really work. “Go for the green one” Blåksberg hissed. “Go for the fucking green one”. She chose a barrel-like, red creation, to the grave disappointment of Libanon and Blåksberg. “You old bitch” Libanon shouted. “What’s that?” The sales clerk had heard them. “Nothing” Blåksberg said with an innocent look. “We’re just browsing”. The old lady made a move towards the green hat. Blåksberg and Libanon watched her in silence, ferociously biting their nails. Then she did it! SHE WORE THE GREEN HAT! Blåksberg and Libanon ran screaming out of the department store. “JACKPOT! JACKPOT!” They were unbelievably happy. “I NEVER thought she’d wear it” Blåksberg shouted. Libanon didn’t answer, but started eyeing Blåksberg’s leather jacket. There was sex in his eyes. “Libanon? Libanon, my friend? Have you secretly eaten ANOTHER sviska-cookie?” No answer. Blåksberg knew what he had to do. He ran back to the department store, dismembered the old lady, bought the green hat, ran back to where Libanon was randomly chatting up people’s jackets, put the green hat on Libanon’s head, and whispered in a loving voice: “Now you are complete...” He ate the rest of the sviska-cookie. “Now...you are complete...”...

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