one flew east, one flew west, one flew over the cuckoo's nest

[flewallover]

You couldn't take me out of one nut house to put me in another for nothin'. This is a whole lot of bull shit, lady, you know that much. R. P. McMurphy doesn't exist solely for your entertainment. I don't have to take this degradation. So you took the time to register some name and dick around with pictures, so what?

I don't owe you a damn thing, and you better remember that.

Comments

[redandloud]

You should escape.

[flewallover]

No shit, pal. Tell me how to get the hell out and I'll meet you down for the Series and a round of drinks.

[redandloud]

I've never escaped from anywhere.

You should try digging a tunnel. But make sure you're on the ground floor before you start.

[flewallover]

Wouldn't do much good, I'm afraid. The floor's a strict linoleum and has a great, sturdy, concrete foundation. Besides, there ain't no place hidden away enough to start a hole-diggin' adventure.

The best I can figure is to break the hell out of a window, but the tool to do with it is, well, a bit beyond the scope of my strength.

[redandloud]

Did you ask someone for help?

Don't ask for help. No one's to be trusted. Probably not even me.

[flewallover]

Nah, I don't need no help.

I'll be out on my own soon enough anyways. Serving time's got a limit, and I can wait it out. Ain't so bad, though, winning cigarettes and floating around a pool with a bunch of old guys who can barely remember their own name but can sing the entire national anthem on key.

You're all good, man.

[redandloud]

But it sounds like you like them, which leads to trusting them, which leads to doing what they expect, which leads, in the end, to death.

[flewallover]

[Wait. What?]

Don't think they can do much in the way of killin' me, pal. Shock me a bit, that's it, though. We're all gonna die in the end, though. RP McMurphy's got plenty of years left in 'im yet.

[redandloud]

It's all a trick. It's all a grand joke.

[flewallover]

You okay? You sound like you could a good sit-down with a doc. Mighty paranoid-like, I mean.

[redandloud]

What? Oh no, I'm sorry, you've misunderstood. I'm not paranoid. I've just died.

[flewallover]

[...welp. McMurphy gets out for a breather and runs into a nutjob. Just his fuckin' luck.]

But you're right here, talkin' and breathin' and the flesh. Ain't ya.

[No, that's not a question. That's a look at your life, man, you're right here.]

[redandloud]

Yes, so it seems. Haven't quite figured that part of it out yet.

[flewallover]

But you remember dyin'?

[redandloud]

Dying. Getting up. Walking away.

Or possibly just dying. It felt safe to die, though. Not what I'd expected.

[flewallover]

I think death's a different thing from one indivi-dule to the next. It makes sense, at least.

[redandloud]

And in a way it's like growing. I think.

[A thought occurs.]

If you escaped, where would you go?

[flewallover]

Where would I...? Hell, man, I'd go back to where I was before.

[vague much, RP?]

[redandloud]

I wouldn't.

[flewallover]

Then don't go back, man. You're...what's that word? You're, uhm...projecting. Yeah, that's it.

[redandloud]

No, no. I did mean you. Never go back. Always go forward.

I don't believe in psychoanalysis.

[flewallover]

Yeah, but you ain't me, and you don't know me, so you can't say either way.

[Jesus, he found a nut, didn't he?]

[redandloud]

[Yes quite possibly yes.]

Why do you want to go back? Isn't it just more of the same?

[flewallover]

[TWO YESSES]

Why do I want to—are you fucking kidding me? It's better than...than being in the damn looney bin, that's what it's better than.

[redandloud]

But you could go anywhere in the world.