Perfect by Angus MacSpon Based on characters and situations created by Naoko Takeuchi, and used without permission. Comments and criticism welcome! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Yeah, I 'member th'first time 't happen. Was in th'ol' alleyalleyalley, heh, hmm. Nice big dumpster there, give 's bit o'shelter. Heh. Wind's pretty cold this time'a year. Smell? Heh, heh, heh. Don't 'member last time I smelled nothin.' Prob'ly jus's well, heh. Don' 'member las' time I washed, either. Bottle in my hands was nearly empty. You don' have a li'l on you --? No. Figures. Jus' it helps take th'shakes away, y'know? Heh, heh. I know li'l someth'n' else does that, too. Th's bottle was cheap crap, but who gives a fuck? Leas' 'twasn't meths, haven' gone th't far yet. Soon, maybe. Heh, 's a guy a few blocks over drinks kerosene. Y'think I smell bad? Take a look 't him, heh. Won' see him much longer, I expec.' Sorry, Jus' wipe it off. Then, alla' sudden I feel this ... this thing, y'know? Like som'th'n's callin' me? Fuck, I dunno. An' I stan' up an' somethin' happens an' I get this crazy feelin' and suddenly I know what I have to do. In another moment I find myself leaping effortlessly over the rooftops, following the siren call in my mind. As I touch down outside my destination, a small jewelry shop, I notice my reflection in the window and for a moment I think I've slid over the edge, that the DTs have got me at last; for it is a Lon Chaney lookalike who stares back at me, a slim young man in an impossibly perfect tuxedo and a mask that seems to glimmer in the moonlight. But the call is still in my head, so I make my way inside. There is a young girl there, as improbably dressed as I, beset by nightmarish forms. I do what comes naturally. Afterward, I leave the jewelry shop, exultant. The craving for drink is gone; I am well-dressed, affluent-looking. There is money in my pocket from somewhere. Somehow, impossibly, I have been given a second chance, and this time I know I can get it right. And sure enough, everything seems to fall into place. I find lodgings. The next day, I even find a job. My life is perfect. A week later, as I am walking home from work, I suddenly feel an awful draining, sapping sensation; the world seems to spin about me an' then I'm crawlin' down an alley pukin' my guts out an' feelin' worse'n anyth'n' I ever felt before, an' shit ... 's like I been robbed, th' mos' perfec' ... bright ... shit. Wha'd YOU know 'bout it, anyway? I try t' get t'my apartmen' an' th'doorman won' even look 't me. Figures. End'a th'day I'm back at th' fuckin' dumpster, but with no bottle th's time. Perfec', sure. Thanks f'r nothin.' Few days later, 't all happens 'gain. Weird shit in m'head, th'world goes crazy, an I'm Mr Perfect again. I help the sailor girl out, and afterward I return to my apartment. Life is sweet. And then it wears off an' sun'ly I'm Wino Chiba in the gutter ag'n. C'n you imagine? Wh'that's like? Shit. 'Course not. Please. Have you got ... jus' a li'l ...? I need ... Yeah. Heh. But I work 't all out in th'end. How t'do it. Change. I c'n do it whenever I want, become perfect. When it wears off again, when the transformation ebbs, I'm back in th'fuckin' gutter, screamin' f'r a drink, but I c'n jus' change back again and resume my perfect life. Then, after a while, I notice that the transformations aren't lasting as long. From a week, they become five days. Then three. Then one. Then I wake up in a bed fulla piss 'n puke an' I 'member tha's only few hours since I b'came Tuxedo Perfuckboy. An' I change, and then I change the sheets, and even then I'm still thinking that I can find a way to solve this. It's all going wrong, but I can find a solution. Somehow. It's not supposed to be this way. I need ... I need to be perfect ... Heh. Perfec,' yeah. Y'wanna know perfec'? Las' time I change, y'know how long't lasted? Two minutes. Tha's perfec' for ya. I was think'n ... that girl, Usako whatever, heh, maybe she c'n help, so 'm runnin' t'find her when 't wears off an' I'm lyin' in th'road in th'nice part'a town an' y'c'n guess that th'police're real happy t'see me, heh heh heh. So here I am. Th'old dumpster's like home, always ready t'welcome me back. Apartment's prob'ly gone now too, I expec' th'landlord thinks I skipped on th'rent. Heh. Pretty Miss Moon wouldn' even recog ... rec ... know me 'f she saw me either. If I jus' had a li'l drink. Jus' t' clear m'head. Then I c'd change back to Him, easy, I bet. For good this time. I have to ... to be perfec' again. If I jus' had one li'l drink ... Please. Can't you spare ...? -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Angus MacSpon ICQ: 65719513 Email: macspon@tamaneko.org http://macspon.tamaneko.org/ Email: macspon@mac.com