After five seconds or so, the Dilaudid had overcome the barrier and did his
Effect, and the sky stopped breathing and turned blue. In the Dilaudid nap, Gately was mute and sweaty for three hours. Fackelmann turned down oral anesthetics not only because of the maddening itch in his eye sockets, but also because he claimed he would get dreadful cravings for sugar that his great slumped weight should not yield. Since he would not have given off a large church light even in the smallest chapel, he was resistant to Gately’s suggestion that Dilaudid also gave him terrible cravings for sugar and everything else too. The plain truth was, the fax man just really loved his Dilaudid. Then good ol ‘Trent Kite from Salem State got the administrative kick in the butt and was assured he would never work in the industry again, Gately brought him on to the team, Kite stirred up a little team opening ceremony just like a couple of quo used to do Vadisse together, Fackelmann introduced Kite to pharmaceutically pure Dilaudid, and Kite had found a new friend for life, as he said; then
Soon Kite and Fackelmann quickly evaluated their identity card, proof of income and furnished luxury apartment fraud, in which Gately participated almost exclusively as a hobby at the time, because he preferred the bold night-time dusting of the goods to fraud, because with fraud you learned them Know people you steal from, and Gately found that slimy and kind of embarrassing. Gately lies on the trauma department in excruciating inflammatory pain, trying to linger between the cravings for redemption, reminding himself of a blinding white afternoon shortly after Christmas when Torchman and Kite went to sell furniture from the furnished apartment, and Gately Killing time in the apartment, laminating fake Massachusetts driver’s licenses, a rush job from rich youths from the Philips Andover Academy371 for what turned out to be the last New Year’s Eve of the pre-sponsorship period. He was standing at the ironing board in the now fairly unfurnished apartment, ironing laminates on the fake driver’s licenses and chasing the first on the clunky InterLace-HDB hanging on the bare wall
Generation – the high-definition screen was always the last luxury item to sell now – like good old Boston Univ. played in the Ken-L-Ration-Magnavox-KemperInsurance- Forsythia Bowl against Clemson. The winter daylight falling in through the penthouse windows dazzled, fell on the large flat screen, bleached the players and gave them something eerie. In the distance behind the windows lay the Atlantic Ocean, gray and salty. The B. U-Punter even came from Boston, an exceptional talent, as the commentators repeatedly emphasized, who had managed to get a place on the team without an official professional contract.