Cat House

Cat House

“So… am I in heaven?” Keith asked queruously.

“Suicide is a mortal sin, Keith,” said Merle—not unkindly.

“So am I in Hell?”

“We don’t know. I don’t know. I guess we’re in our thoughts.”

“A dying hallucination?”

“Maybe. But I don’t think so. It’s so long and calm and feels so shared. But maybe. But I don’t even know how long I’ve been here.”

“So…?”

“I like to call it Friends Revival Unlimited Checkpoint Five. Just a playful phrase I made up. But we… meet. We share. We’re sharing. You’re with us right now and not somebody else for a reason. Maybe you’ll be with someone else later.

What do we got in common? What’s in the mental worlds of all three of us?”

Just then the mists rolled back to reveal a player piano, which began regurgitating badly-memorized tones.

“Benny the Bouncer!” Keith cried.

“Ah yes, the Wild West… our three Wild Wests,” Merle smiled.

“Benny the Bouncer!!” Keith repeated, unhearing in his bliss, happy for the first time in his forever.

“At cher service,” replied Benny the Bouncer, who had just walked into the cloud-top saloon—“Oh,” Merle thought, “it’s about time” - looking eagerly around for someone to bounce.

Lemmy had had one cocktail too many, just about enough of Keith, just about enough of this bouncer—who did he think he was, anyway?!

“Well you can service me, mate!” he shouted, wobbling up.

“It’ll be my pleasure! Chopped or fried?”

“Excuse me?”

“Or would you prefer to just leave?”

“I don’t want anything to do with your bloody sort anyway!”

“Very well mate! Where shall I throw ya then?”

“Might as well throw me into a bordello!”

“Very well mate!”

Benny hoisted Lemmy up effortlessly, brimming with violent glee. Lemmy, no slouch, was still no match—just a sack of potatoes to Benny. Lemmy’s limp body sailed off the shared Wild West cloud, onto the Cloud of the Cat House.

Tragily tacky, the Cat House was shared on and off by a variety of deceased former prostitutes. A cat-themed bordello. Tacky.

“Meow can I help you?” purred one of Lemmy’s most fondly remembered exes.

“Cathy! You said you never—!”

“I lied,” Cathy responded warmly.

The cloud poured grey sheets.

Lemmy didn’t weep. He didn’t really know quite what to do.