FicWad

“He said what!” Sandman snapped angrily.

Both Joe and Andy turned their heads to stare at the man they believed to be Pete. Neither of them had fully taken in the bizarre tale Patrick had been telling them, yet here was Pete comfortable enough, not only to take it all in, but to begin commenting on it too.

“Patrick,” Turning his frown away from Pete, Andy addressed the singer in a low soft voice. “Do you think that maybe you’ve been working too hard lately?”

Ignoring the peels of laughter from Mr Sandman, Patrick turned to face the drummer; what began as a bewildered expression soon translated itself into a look of sheer indignance.

“I’m not making this up, Andy!” Patrick pouted.
“No,” Andy continued using the same gentle tone, the exact same tone that suggested he was waiting for men in white coats to arrive with a strait-jacket and giant butterfly net. “No, I’m not suggesting that,” he added calmly. “Just that, maybe…”
“Maybe I’m a little crazy?” Patrick snapped back defensively.
“I didn’t say that, it’s just…”
“Do you know how hard it was to speak to you guys about this?”
“Patrick,” Joe frowned, “it’s not that we don’t believe you, it’s just that…”
“They think you’re dipping into the squirrel stash!” Sandman howled with laughter, lying back across a bank of amps, genuinely enjoying the moment. “Oh this is priceless!”

All three band members turned harsh stares towards the chuckling figure lying on his back across the amps, laughing so hard he was shaking, lost in his own genuine amusement.

“I don’t find this funny, Pete!” Patrick shouted angrily as his friend seemed to mock him.

Mr Sandman’s laughter faded almost immediately that Patrick shouted Pete’s name. Momentarily, he had forgotten himself. Surrounded by people that resembled those he recognised from his home, he had neglected to act how he believed his counterpart would and had probably just given himself away. Turning his head to face them, Mr Sandman didn’t even rise from his position, he merely stared while he assessed the situation.

He wasn’t sure if it was worth continuing with the pretence. Dr Benzedrine appeared to have almost, if not completely, convinced Patrick of the need to help destroy him and his beloved Dream World. He would not allow it. No matter what it took, he would stop Dr Benzedrine.

“You believe him?” Sandman asked incredulously, lifting himself up and leaning back on one arm, Sandman at once managed to look urgent and relaxed.
“Okay,” Andy frowned deeply. “Have we missed a step here?”

Glancing at Joe, who seemed equally bewildered by the turn the conversation had taken, Andy looked back, alternating his gaze between Patrick and Mr Sandman.

“What’s going on?” Andy demanded. “Joe and I are having trouble with even accepting this and you’re discussing it like it’s an everyday occurrence. Are you two messing with us?”
Patrick turned an indignant stare towards Andy. “No! I’m serious… but… Pete? I don’t like it, but Andy’s reaction is at least normal.”
“Did you forget?” Sandman asked jumping down from the amps. “I told you I understood that you were seeing things.”
“I’m not seeing things!” Patrick insisted, frustrated by what he saw as Pete’s further confusion of the issue.
“So you’re just going along with him?” Joe asked to clarify.
“Oh yeah,” Sandman chuckled playfully. “Mad as a fish!”
“A fish?” Patrick spat, furious with what seemed to be Pete’s attempt to belittle and mock him.
“Not just any fish,” Sandman replied with surprising sincerity, as though he was trying to justify his comments. Gesturing with his hands, he continued: “I mean one of the big ones you get in the toxic rivers in The Hills. They’re mean! You’re not mean, but they’re totally crazy too.”

Patrick’s eyes widened at the statement. If he had checked, he’d have noticed that Andy and Joe’s eyes seemed also to almost be popping from their sockets. They were wondering if two of their friends had snapped, but Patrick knew immediately what was wrong.

“Mr Sandman!”

Sandman offered a bow and his widest grin before losing it almost immediately as Patrick turned and headed swiftly for the door.

“No!” he cried stretching out an arm and concentrating briefly on the door.

Patrick pulled up sharply as a giant snake appeared in front of him, blocking his path. The reptile must have been easily sixty feet long and the thickness of a man’s leg. Largely coiled, the snake’s head bobbed lightly as it took in the room’s occupants, hissing as any of them made any movements at all.

“It won’t attack you,” Sandman promised. “Well… so long as none of you try to escape.”
“Escape?” Joe turned a disbelieving expression towards Pete, the very movement of which caused the snake to dart towards him.
“Joe!” Andy cried in surprise as the snake coiled itself tightly around the guitarist and lunged at him, its fangs high and dripping with venom.

Closing his eyes tightly as the coils of the snake pinned his arms and legs, Joe tensed waiting for the moment that he would be bitten by the giant reptile. Seconds went by and nothing happened.

“Joe?” Andy’s voice piped up, shaken and nervous.

Looking down, Joe saw that the equally implausible sight of a garden hose had replaced the terrifying snake. Still tightly wrapped in its coils, Joe was reliant on Andy to help free him. Once again, Patrick bolted for the door. This time instead of blocking his path, Sandman moved the door. Every time Patrick reached it, the door would appear to shift a few feet, sometimes to the left or right, sometimes it would appear high on the ceiling – anywhere, just as long as it was out of reach.

“Let us out!” Patrick demanded, frustrated by what he saw as Mr Sandman’s games.
“You’ve listened to him, now listen to me! You at least owe me the same courtesy!”
“What have you done with Pete?” Patrick demanded.
“I haven’t done anything with him! He’s fine, he’s with Donnie!” he replied oblivious to the problems Pete was encountering. “Please, just let me give you my side!”

Almost free of the hose, Joe was confused still further to find it suddenly disappear. Sharing an unsettled glance with Andy, Joe turned to look at Patrick now standing right next to the door. He even managed to grip the handle before turning his head to face Mr Sandman. It would be best to hear both sides, even though he strongly suspected that it would only end in confusing the issue further.

“You have fifteen minutes,” Patrick warned.

Sandman smiled. As far as he was concerned, his was an open and shut case. Fifteen minutes would be more than enough.