Hugo Docking

Fear and Loathing in Amsterdam

Suddenly, without warning, I found myself in a small cabin, with half a dozen Girl Scout sorcerers’ speaking in tongues. I glanced around, aware of the danger of revealing my fear. My confusion. They could smell it. It was only a matter of time before these angel fascists would mount their attack on my unwary companions and me. My comrades looked passive, accepting of their unsavoury fate. It was too late for them I knew, and soon I would fall into the same morbid trap. Think Hugo think. Ignore this terrible drug. Assess your surroundings. How did you get here?

The whole room was twisted. Furious bad vibes. Fiendish murmurs. Unholy cackles. Who were these demons of indeterminate age? Both worldly, superior creatures and mischievous youths, pixies. They were passing a bottle of liqueur between them as if it were their first taste of the devils nectar. If their façade of innocence was a true perception then where were their parents? A terrible thought penetrated my hazy consciousness. Where we the villains? Had we stumbled upon a nest of drunken infants? Would the wooden door of this claustrophobic cabin soon be kicked off it’s fragile hinges by foreign agents – to find us cross-legged, knee to knee with doggedly-swaying intoxicated children and assume the worst?

I accepted the bottle of cheap booze from the Girl Scout opposite. Nothing to do now but play along. Act normal. Keep my cards close to my chest, drink the liquor, don’t let them guess my twisted insights. Staggered conversation was being attempted in my peripheral. Laughter. How could my companions be unaware of the severity of this sinister situation? Had their minds be warped by black magic? Or did they simply not understand how badly the events in this cabin could be perceived?

I risked a glance at my closest companion. A stout joint rested between his thumb and forefinger. We shared a brief moment of confusion as we stared at each other wide-eyed and unblinking. It was all we needed to reassure each other that we shared the dark inclinations of the events in this cabin, and we were not alone. I found out the next day that this was not true. He was just super high.

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