Current Transmissions:


> Debashis in Plureality 3

Finger on switch, ready to pull, a look of excitement on the face of one. The other's siting at the table, a half-smoked cigarette resting in the tray – menthol light – half interested.

“How about if you pull that dimmer switch less than halfway down, just to make it zap us, but not too loudly…just a whisper.”

“What’s the point? Let’s just go all the way.”

This little power struggle goes on for a bit of time. One suggesting moderation, the other insisting full steam ahead, both infusing their versions in that nice, and passive-aggressive kind of way.

“I just want a taste.”

“That’s just foreplay and masturbation – sauce and gravy – give me the meat!”

“You’re just gross. You’re an adrenaline junkie. And you’re trying to turn me into one too.”

“Geeeez!!!!! Will ya’ just live a little? With you it’s always, ‘watch out’, ‘be careful’, ‘not too much’. You’re the idiot who takes one fucking toe at a time into the pool while everyone else already swam to the other side of the crater."

“And you push too hard. Ain’t everyone like you, you know. Nothin’ wrong with going slow! And besides, it can hurt. Do damage to yourself. Why do I have join you on this shit?” A long suck from the smoke was more calming than expected.

Well, they weren’t passive-aggressive anymore. Finger on switch, one’s ready to pull, while the other glaring, wordlessly daring defiance. The catalytic electric inducer was better than sex, better than coke, better than weed. A recent invention, it could give the receiver doses of total euphoria-messed-upness that induced all the effects of any age-old vice of choice, with the same range of effects from a buzz to unconsciousness. But its effects were immediate…and maybe just a bit unpredictable.

“Come on, let’s just do this! It’ll buzz for bit, we’ll feel fucking awesome and then it’ll be over. You got nothing to lose.”

“I just don’t like the zap. That just hurts – I hate pain.”

“Don’t be such a baby. Fine, how about instead of full tilt, we’ll go three quarters. You’re a loser.”

“Look, if we can’t go one-quarter, I’m not doin’ this with you."

This half-negotiation goes on. They bully each other, half-heartedly, exchanging insults along the way. Finger on switch, one’s tempted to just pull without the other’s approval. The other inhales a mouthful of cigarette smoke, then inhales a mouthful of rum-shine brew.

“So, we’re settled on one-third power?”

“Fine. Count of three?”
Both disappointed, but ready, one arches the back, takes a deep breath, readying for the anticipated pulse of shock-buzz about to pulsate through the veins. The other, finger on switch, eyeballs getting wild with excitement and maybe even a glint of ……


“I’m going to kill you after this.”


Finger pushes switch. An ominous hum permeates the room. Punctuations of little crackle noises. As the pulses engulf their bodies, the cat walks by and can hear from one:


From the other:

“I’m going to …”

Then a bang and a white flash of light, a smell of burning magnesium, a cat screech, body-vibrations. Explosions inside the brain or outside? Euphoria and lift-off.

BANG and then black.