Part Three: The Dream and the Goat Boys
Somewhere else, Ray slapped Malcolm across the back of the head.
"Ray! What the fuck?"
"That wasn't what we agreed on!"
Malcolm stared at him.
"We hadn't agreed on anything!"
"There can only be one point of view!"
Malcolm sighed.
This was true.
Harry stayed quiet.
Bob was silent.
Gerald just sucked his teeth.
There could only be one point of view.
Preferably Ray's.
Still, despite the grammatical error, they had achieved something extraordinary.
They were now gaslighting her in her sleep.
The mother-pig dream had been fantastic.
It was surely going to disturb her to no end.
Taking her mother—who had no doubt indulged her, doted on her, spoiled her until she'd become the obstinate crazy bitch she was today—and turning her into some kind of Dr. Moreau?
It was too good.
And they were living on an island!
How much better could it possibly get?
"I thought we were going to make her a dog," Malcolm said.
"No. Pig."
"Why?"
"Silence of the Lambs."
Malcolm considered this.
"Genius."
"No, it isn't. She was supposed to be a bitch."
"A pig."
"A dog. A disloyal bitch."
"No. We're on an island. Silence of the Lambs was genius."
"What does being on an island have to do with Silence of the Lambs?"
"She's a pig."
"She's a bitch."
"She's just one more pig in need of lotion on her back."
"Shut up about that damn book, for fuck's sake."
"You shut up."
"One point of view!"
Silence.
"Now shut up."
Malcolm folded his arms.
Ray folded his arms.
Neither looked at the other.
The rest of them folded their arms.
They assumed this was part of their patriotic duty.
And they had been so GREAT!
They had successfully infiltrated another human being's subconscious.
They had altered her dreams.
They had inserted her dead mother.
They had performed imaginary surgery upon her.
They had given her six nipples.
And they had absolutely no idea what any of it meant.
This did not diminish their confidence in their greatness and the enormity of their accomplishments, which were many many.
