Conversation · Cuno

You see the shape of a prepubescent boy in FALN pants. It turns double -- then triple -- from the pain. He says:

"Coinslot's dead."

You can barely hear him, the pain is so bad.

"I'm in pain, what... happened?"

"Cuno just told you your friend is dead! And you're crying about pain? That doesn't seem right to Cuno." He shakes his head. "The binoclard was alright, he didn't deserve that shit..."

Wow... the kid's name must be Cuno. And he's about to take pity on you.

"Nah, Cuno's just lying to you. The fucking boo-boo wagon took four-eyes away. He's probably gonna live."

"The what? Where did they take him?"

"To the hospital, fucktard. Try to keep up with Cuno." He glares at you with something akin to respect...

Thank god, okay, he's alive.

"They say you burned half the city down. Thousands dead. That's very cool to Cuno. I thought I'd stick around."

He's saying I now? And not calling you a f****t or a pig? Is he ill or something?

"Be straight with me. I need to get my bearings."

"Sure, Cuno's gonna help you with that. Cuno's in a giving mood right now."

"What happened to me?"

"You tore some shit up there, pig." Cuno is looking at you like a tamed wolf would look at his master. Like an equal. "Got shot too."

"How badly am I hurt?"

"How would Cuno know? Cuno's not a fucking doctor." He looks at you like you're an idiot.

Then his expression mellows. "Cuno thinks you got shot twice. In the shoulder and in the leg. The leg's pretty fucking nasty, but a doctor looked you over and took the bullet out."

"The shoulder's fine, probably... The doc didn't seem too worried about it -- said the bullet went right through."

The bullet must have passed through your shoulder blade, missing your lung and your heart. You lucky son of a bitch...

"Can I... walk?"

"Are your legs attached to Cuno? Can the Cuno move your legs? The fuck should I know..."

With considerable pain, and a stitch tearing every now and then, you should be able to do it.

"I'm a psycholocomotor, Cuno."

Cuno lets out a whistle. "That's pretty cool to Cuno. Cuno's also a psycho."

"Are you hurt?"

"Why in the name of fuck would Cuno be hurt?" The kid rolls his eyes at you.

"Cuno's fucking smart, Cuno wasn't in that fuck-pile. Cuno knows when shit goes south, unlike you."

(Get up -- slowly.)

"Go easy, pig. You wanna lean on the Cuno or something?"

You can take it. Just don't lean on the old leg too heavily.

Ouch, ouch... The kid turns double for a second. Damn, that hurts. Breathe...

Your balance is way off. You feel like you're about to fall over.

"So how is it?"

"I feel fantastic. Let's... rock."

"Cuno can see you're trying to shit him, but Cuno's unshittable, so fuck does Cuno care?"

Still, you see something akin to respect in his eyes.

Yeah, that kid's taken a beating -- or ten -- from his dad. He has regard for a man who can walk after taking some damage.

"Who cares. Who cares about me. It doesn't matter."

"Cuno's got zero patience for this weepy shit. Cuno's been through way worse than this."

"Gnhhhh..."

Cuno observes you getting on your feet and says nothing.

"I'm very bad, Cuno. Things are very bad."

"My... disco days are done."

"Yeah... you got lucky there, pig. Maybe now Cuno can show you what real brutal hard music is."

"Has anyone from my station been to see me?"

"You keep asking all this weird shit from Cuno that the Cuno has no way of knowing about."

"Do you know who treated me, Cuno?"

"Cuno did."

He didn't.

"Thanks, Cuno, you're a life saver."

"It's cool." He nods seriously. "Just remember -- Cuno doesn't save shit for free."

"You said there was a doctor who removed the bullet from my leg."

"Yeah... Some cunt from your station came over and knife fucked you, when you were sleeping."

"Nix Fucklieb, I think he was called," he says trying to remember the situation. "Said he was a doctor. Then fucked off and told me to phone him if you shit yourself."

Nix Gottlieb, station medic, throws a bag containing a small bullet into the medical waste disposer. Then he pops some caramel candy into his mouth and says: "Next." There's a line behind his door...

If he did triage and left, you must be relatively stable.

We're detecting drouamine in your bloodstream. It's a potent morphine-based painkiller. The good doctor must have given you some... It's gonna suck when it wears off.

"C'mon, man... who really did it?"