Ed shoots straight up out of bed. His breathing is short and hard. He gazes around the room to find himself in a sea of white. White walls, white dresser, white bedside table, white sheets, and a white wife beater to top him off. A surge of urgency overwhelms him and he launches out of the bed at the dresser. His stomach crashes into the dresser, and his face lurches forward towards the mirror, almost touching it. Staring right back at him is his own plain face; it’s white with wrinkles, plain brown eyes, and short cut greying hair. He feels his scalp. He backs away from the mirror and gazes down. White underwear and a green carpet. His breathing is still short and hard, and his heart is beating at an unhealthy pace for somebody who just woke up. Why are there no windows in here? He thinks. The urgency rushes him again. He barrels out the door on his left, ripping the hinges right out of the wall.

He gazes around; white hallway, green carpet, no windows. He sprints down the hallway and slings himself around in a 180-degree motion using the railing on his right. He finds himself tumbling down the staircase at high speed before he almost immediately reaches the bottom. He wiggles his toes at the bottom of the staircase. The green carpet feels good good under them. Straight ahead he sees the front door. To his right is the living room complete with a white couch, white chair, white fireplace, and white TV. To his left he sees the kitchen. On the white table is a can of Labatt 50, white and green with gold accents. He walks over, picks it up, cracks it open and starts drinking. His heart is still beating rapidly. Why is there carpet in the kitchen, and no windows here, either? The urgency surges through him again and he moves to the front door, arm and beer in tow. He whips the door open and stumbles onto the front walkway, scraping his knees. The white stone walkway extends straight towards the street and is flanked by grass on both sides. Directly in front of him is a package. He crawls and picks it up leaving the beer on the ground beside him. Urgent, he thinks. He rips open the package compelled by the unknown urge and finds inside a pristine new golf club, a driver by the looks of it, and a note. He unfolds the note, tearing at its green seal, and reads it.

Kill your neighbour

He stands up, holding the golf club in one hand, and the note in the other. He gazes to his left, down the long line of neatly arranged prefab homes and focuses on his immediate neighbour’s house. All the homes are big white boxes on large plots of healthy green grass. He feels a subtle vibration in his spine. His neighbour Jed appears from between their two houses, pushing a lawnmower. He is wearing white shoes, white shorts, a white t-shirt and a white golf cap. His clothes are all stained with the green of fresh cut grass. He pauses, looking over at Ed, and reaches down to turn off the lawnmower. He picks the safety glasses off his face and rests them on top of his cap.

Nodding at the beer can on the ground and the golf club in his hand. “Bit Early to be drinking beer, don’t you think Ed? Should probably wait ’til you’re out on the course”, Jed says.

Ed looks at the beer can then back at Jed. He feels another vibration begin to rattle his spine and spins to his right, facing an identical long line of prefab homes. From that side of his home emerges his neighbour Ned. He’s dressed identically to Jed, and he reaches down to turn off his mower in similar fashion.

“Howdy Ed, Howdy Jed. Ain’t it a beautiful day to be mowin the lawn?”, he says as he rubs a patch of grass from his shorts.

Ed looks at the golf club in his hand and his brain begins to boil at the urgency he feels. Which one? He thinks to himself. He raises the note again and reads it.

Kill your neighbours

Ed looks at Jed, then at Ned, then back at the golf club. The compulsion overwhelms him, his heart beating at light speed. As if performing cell division, one-becomes-two, and Ed splits off in both directions. Either side of him instantly regenerating the lost half as he barrels toward Jed and Ned. Both of Ed approach Jed and Ned with their golf clubs reaching for the sky. Jed and Ned, both startled by the event are frozen in terror. He bludgeons his neighbours to death. He wails on Jed and Ned in a wholly unrelenting manner for solid minute before letting up. He finds the red of the blood to be a refreshing new sight. Eventually, both of Ed reach a point of total of total exhaustion, the crest of the wave, which only comes crashing down. Both of Ed crumble into a million little tiny Ed, as if a sand sculpture lost the glue holding it together. The giant mountain of tiny Ed spill all over both neighbours’ lawns.

All the tiny Ed are running in confusion and panic between the fresh cut stalks of grass which tower over them. His golf clubs are raised as he fends off giant ants on millions of different fronts. He jumps left and right to avoid being picked up by countless streams of thick blood and watches as some of him get carried away in it. The millions of Ed all begin his escape towards the elevated street. The millions of him climb up and keel over in exhaustion, all gathered together over a long stretch of the road. Before Ed can process anything, a Kia Soul runs over the millions of tiny Ed, leaving in its wake a thousand-foot stretch of blood, tiny bone fragment, skin, and muscle tissue. Ted, in shock at the two dead bodies he’s just passed, drives the front end of his Kia Soul into a ditch. The long stretch of Ed fragments ends in a long string of goop attached to the front wheel, which is now suspended mid-air over the ditch and still spinning, Ted is passed out, his foot providing a dead weight for the gas pedal. The wheel spins, and as if the internal combustion engine could summon the dead, the thousand-foot stretch of dead Ed begins to bubble, and from the road, giant Ed is born. His feet at the car, his head outside Ned’s house way down the street. Giant Ed doesn’t even pick himself up, he pivots slowly around the spinning front wheel of the Kia Soul, rotating counter clockwise until pointing straight up. Ed gains composure, looking down at the ugly scene from a thousand-feet up. He lifts his hands. In his left hand is a giant golf club. In his right hand is a note, he reads it.

Kill your neighbours

Still compelled by the unknown force. Ed gazes down at the long line of prefab homes, which are now no larger than golf balls to him. He lifts his club to the sky and starts swinging. Each direct contact hit between the club and a home shatters it into thousands of white and green pieces. Ed finds this to be cathartic. He takes a small step forward with each home, lines it up just in front of and between his legs, and drives the home into oblivion. Suddenly Ed reaches a home that has already been driven into oblivion. He looks up to see that most of the homes in front of him have been destroyed. About fifty homes ahead he sees a giant man holding a golf club. He gazes around to find an endless expanse of identical prefab homes all evenly spaced apart. Towering over these homes and equidistant from each other are millions of giant men holding golf clubs. Ed can’t make out any of their faces because they keep turning away just when looks at them. He chases after the one in front of him, but it keeps identical pace to Ed. Frustrated, Ed lifts his golf club and launches it at the giant man in front of him. A perfect throw, Ed knows it will hit the man’s skull. Suddenly Ed is knocked in the back of the head. His giant body collapses, and as his vision fades he sees the rows and rows of giant men collapsing in unison with him before he hits the ground.

Reach down your throat, for the vocal chord slime. Reach into your mind, pour les langues du divine.