Suddenly, a dwarf dressed in a red suit walked stiffly into the room. "Garmonbozia," he said to her. Pointing to the table next to her, he continued, "This is a formica table. Green is its colour."
Rachael felt terrified. There was another presence here, in addition to the dwarf. She wondered how she had come to this strange place. The sound of the jazz music seemed closer. She stood up and parted a nearby set of curtains. She entered another enclosed, red-curtained space. Inside this room, however, was a man holding a medieval masque mask infront of his face with one hand, while playing a saxophone one-handed with the other.
Rachael looked at the sax. She thought she noticed something strange just inside it. She craned her neck, briefly pulling her shoulders back to stare into it...
A cascade of images...
Kirsten Dunst dancing seductively with another girl at a rave, their tongues exploring eachother's lips... Winona Ryder with bleached blonde hair clutching a TV remote control in one hand while playing with her absudrly expanded breasts with the other, head thrown back in lust... a huge-breasted, stoned Melissa Joan Hart and Soleil Moon Fry out in the desert, trying to dispose of a corpse... a man whose face kept flickering from one mask to another, but frequently cycling back to a dusky man with long, greasy grey hair... Jennifer Love Hewitt, doing a strip tease dressed as a schoolgirl... moments later, her lying on a dirty mattress, milk leaking from her massively engorged tits... and then... a man speaking softly...
"Through the darkness, future past, the magician longs to see: once chance out between two worlds, fire walk with me. We lived among the people. I think you say "convenince store." We lived above it. I mean it like it is -- like it sounds. I too have been touched by the devilish one. A tatoo on the left shoulder. But when I saw the face of God, I was changed. It took the entire arm off. My name is Jim. His name is Rick."
Suddenly, a vivid image appeared infront of Rachael. It was the man with the oily grey hair again. "Jim! Jim! Can you hear me? I'll catch you with my Load Profile you may think I've gone insane but I promise yes I promies that I shall change you again." Rachael watched mute as the face morphed into that of an angelic blonde woman who looked awfully familiar.
Gasping, she woke up. But stretching, she realized that she was not alone in bed. She pulled back the sheets to see the prone, wounded form of Heather Graham. Cold hands grasped her wrists, and Heather spoke, "My name is Heather. I've been with Jim and Rick. Rick has locked the good Heather in the lodge and I can't get out. Write it in your diary."
Rachael screamed and awoke. For real she hoped, this time.
Tue Jan 30 23:21:08 2001