The DT’s

When Aedin went to bed, his stomach was turning and he had a slight case of vertigo. Charlie was faring little better. The room was fairly expansive, fancy furniture and the like. The bed was a big wooden framed thing painted white with carved elements all over it. There was a frame near the ceiling for sheer mosquito netting that hung down around the bed. He could hear the sound of the wind howling outside, but it didn’t matter much to him, the moment his head hit the pillow, Aedin fell asleep. He awoke, completely soaked in his own sweat and completely naked. He tried to sit up, but found he was completely covered by material over top of him. He wondered for a moment if he or Charlie hadn’t inadvertently pulled down the mosquito netting. Pushing against the fabric, it felt smooth and soft, almost like a bed sheet. Somewhere in the shrouded darkness, he could hear the distant sound like snoring almost lost in the sounds of the storm raging outside. Turning on onto his stomach, the dampened surface beneath him felt similar to what was above, he slowly pushed his way on his hands and knees toward the sound. What the hell? It felt like he had covered dozens of feet and still no escape from whatever was sandwiching him. The closer he got to the sound, he knew without a doubt it was Charlie, he heard that snore enough times in the past to know its author. Finally, after what seemed and endless crawl, he found Charlie. Shaking him, Charlie?” he said, but the drummer was unresponsive. “Charlie!” he repeated, shaking a little harder, no response. Cupping his hand, he slapped Charlie’s face. If only he had a Sharpie, he chuckled. Leaving Charlie, he continued crawling finally finding reprieve from the weight over him. Emerging from under whatever it was, he stood upright. In the diffuse light, he turned slowly about assessed the environment. Then it occurred to him, he was standing on the bed in the same room Angeline had brought him to, but everything was somehow utterly massive. Same dresser, windows, everything. He scratched his head. “What the?”

Walking toward the edge of the bed, he pushed at the translucent netting and peered over the side, down on the floor were his clothes, his shoes now at least four times longer than he was tall. “Fuck off,” he mumbled, shaking his head from side to side. Moving onto of the sheet then the bedspread, he moved toward the foot of the bed.

He started laughing, “Man, this is definitely a trip,” he said. Cupping his hands around his mouth, “Karli!” he screamed into the shrouded darkness of the room.

He paused a moment. “This has got to be a dream,” he said aloud, “Some fucked no booze in my system mental fuck up.”

“KARLI!” he yelled. Nothing. “Fuck,” he muttered. Last he remembered, she was supposed to be spending the night in the parlor. He frowned. “How the hell do I get down there?” he asked rhetorically, looking for a means to get down to the floor level. Moving back toward the head of the bed, where the sheet folded over, it draped over the side of the bed almost to the floor. He considered a moment, he could lower himself down the sheet and the netting would help prevent him from falling.

“Good plan,” he mumbled, getting down onto his stomach and lowering his feet over the edge of the bed, gripping tightly the fabric, he slowly lowered himself to the floor. Getting out from under the netting, he brushed his hands against each other. He paused a moment, looking back up at the sheer immensity of the bed and the fabric draping it. He frowned. Mosquito net. If he was this small, a mosquito would be like the size of a small bird to him.

This sure didn’t feel like a dream and he didn’t feel messed up, in fact he felt pretty solid. So if this wasn’t some kind of substance inspired nightmare, did it mean he was small? And if he was this small, how the hell did he get so tiny? Charlie was the same size as him, what about the others? He let out a breath. He needed to go find Karli, she could make some sense of this situation. He started moving around where he had heaped the evening previous.

“Hey!” he heard from above, recognizing Charlie’s voice.

“Down here!” Aedin called back.

“Aedin?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, down here, I’m on the floor,” Aedin replied.

“How did you get down there?” asked Charlie.

“I lowered myself down between the sheet and the netting,” he replied.

“Dude, what the fuck is going on here?”

“At first I thought maybe it was a dream or some hallucination borne of residual chemicals still in my body, but I’m thinking this either has to do with the hooch from the graveyard, or the chick that owns this house,” he speculated.

“If it was the broad, then the girls would be small too right?”

“I would think so, but if it was the booze, then it just those of with a ‘Y’ chromosome who might be thusly reduced,” he opined.

“Where were you going?” Charlie asked.

“Find Karli,” replied Aedin.

“Okay wait down there for me,” Charlie said.

“Go closer to the head of the bed, that’s where I came down,” advised the singer.

Not quite as graceful as Aedin, Charlie slipped a few times coming to land on the floor flat on his ass with an oomph.

“And from the French judge, an 8.7, based solely on the technical difficulty of the move,” Aedin said, altering his voice.

“Haha,” Charlie replied, making a fake laugh. Getting to his feet, he ran his hands over his rump, pride wounded more than flesh.

“So I’m pretty sure Karli said she was going to stay in the parlor for the night, that’s where I was going to go,” provided Aedin.

“What if she’s small?” asked the drummer.

“That means it was Angeline and we need to rescue her,” Aedin answered, starting walk toward the door.

Charlie frowned. “What if she’s, you know like gigantic?”

“Then she can help us,” replied Aedin.

“This is fucked,” Charlie commented

“Yep,” replied Aedin. Together they set off for the parlor.