I Can't Say What I Want To

            This straight jacket is tight. I think they did that on purpose, but it definitely wasn’t necessary.  I wasn’t going to hurt them, I just get animated when I talk.  Can’t they get that? Fuck!  ‘The good doctor will see you shortly.’ They said. ‘I don’t give a fuck if it’s the bad doctor, I’m fine.’ I told ‘em. Did they listen? No, they don’t listen to shit. Especially when it’s coming from me.  So fuck ‘em, I don’t have to talk to ‘em.  They’re all thinkin’ they’re gonna save me, or some shit like that.  What’s to save?  Who are they to be the saviors, should the need arise?

            “They need you, Barney.” Said the sloth from the ceiling.

            “Ah, you’re wearing your hat today, Sol! I know I ask you this every time, but do you really want people likening you to the Cat in the Hat? Get a bowler hat, or something. That ridiculous hat’s only going to get in your way.” I figured I may as well talk to Sol, he won’t hurt me.  He’s not looking to change the world; he just lives in it.

            “I like this one, thank you very much.  I think it suits me better than that… what kind of fashion style is that jacket you’re wearing? Are you Prozak Man, now?  Anyway, you can’t just fight this place.  The pads are here for a reason.”  If a sloth could smirk, this one was.  It was hard to tell between that compact little face of his, and that hat.  Sol scratched himself nonchalantly as he waited for Barney to take his surroundings into consideration.

            “Who taught you sarcasm? I thought you were on a strict no-sarcasm diet.  That shit’s bad for sloths, you know.  That’s the kind of stuff that’ll make the trees pee in your face, and you know you can’t get out of the way. You’re a sloth.  What do they need me for, anyway? Who am I to them? I ain’t special.”  The lone light on the ceiling was starting to fuck with Barney’s eyes, he had to squint to keep them open.  Sol seemed to waver for a split second.   Maybe the new meds had some odd-ass side effect they didn’t tell him about?

            Sol shook his head. “No, they just gave you saline that time.  You were dehydrated like a raisin when you came in here, remember?  And you’ll know what they need in due time. No need to rush, you’re st-“ Sol’s hat fell off, and he fell silent.  A knock on the cell door followed that with uncanny succession.

            “Hey! Who are you talking to in there?” Someone yelled at him.

            “I ain’t said shit.” The hat whispered at Barney’s feet.