Smooge and Goosh

The perfect green sky was clear and the sun shown down on the boy as he climbed out of the broken ice and sat on the ground next to Ray.
   
   "S-S-s-s-so l-lukewarm," shivered Norse, putting on a dry t shirt and shorts that he had been holding in a huge zip lock bag inside the ice.  Ray offered the kid a piece of celery, which he accepted and greedily devoured.

   "What do you think would happen if you asked Barth what he thinks would happen if you asked him to tell you who you are to him?" offered Marston.  Ray very slowly turned his head towards Bartholomew Norse.  He felt the drugs wearing off him a little, he thought...

   "What do you think would happen if I asked you what you think would happen if I asked you to tell me who I am to you?" Ray asked Barth.

Barth grabbed Ray's right hand and looked into his eyes, there was a slight electric shock as their fingers touched, a static spark.  Ray's demeanor changed with the spark, and he rubbed his left index finger and thumb slowly together, staring at his other hand in Barth's as Bartholomew Norse said:

"You are the meanest evil sonuvabitch that ever walked the earth, Bad to the Bone, a cyclone of righteous rage and one of God's most blessed soldiers in the war against the Devil and his children--the leftists, the communist liberals, the faggots, and all the half bred spawn of Sodom.  You are my best friend's Dad and a spy for the government or something.   You have a bad temper and P.T.S.D.  You drink and smoke too much.  You keep live ordnance in the house.  Your wife hasn't--"

"That's eNOUGH!" Ray Eawest shouted, "Cripes!"  Ray was feeling more himself now.  Marston grinned.  Ray took out a small notepad from his back pocket and a pen out of his breast pocket.  He looked into the Norse kids face.  Barth could tell that Ray was serious, and it scared the bejeezus out of the poor kid.  "NOW," he continued.

"Mr. Norse," Ray said, "How many years have you known my son?"

     "Well, since we were kids, Sir.   I mean, you all moved from the base to town here when Joe and I were both aw, about 11 I think?  So about six years?"

"Ray, what if you ask him if he can remember every detail about his favorite game." Marsten whispered to Eawest discreetly.

Ray cleaned the tablecloth of the Smooge remainders and went on to prepare the garnish for the final tableau, the brief sweet treat at the end, the Goosh.  The three of them looked lovingly at it on the tablecloth.

"Barth, how would you like to make a wager?" Ray slyly cooed,  "I bet you...your freedom!  That you cannot remember every detail about your faaaavorite game..."

Bartholomew Norse looked confused for a second, then said:

"Well that isn't very specific.  I mean, do you mean Ms. Pacman or The Game of Joe?  Or you could even be talking about Rise of Rock City, although you probably know it isn't our favorite anymore."

Ray frowned, looking out over the Rhine.  He felt slightly confused himself.  Oh well, no matter.  "Well, what about the Game of Joe?  Do you remember the song you and he used to sing when you played it? What is it, again? (ahem) 'When Machine Gun Kelly died, the women all came out and cried,' or somethingerother?"