Minutes seem like....Ah, whatever! Pt 3

How much longer can I keep myself together? Up to this point, the sinuous tentacles that stretch out from dark reaches of my mind, and threaten to drag me into the abyss of insanity, are being kept a hairsbreadth away by a routine that involves me bouncing a dead rat off the cell wall, and sobbing uncontrollably. However, even this distraction is losing it's effectiveness and I fear I cannot walk this razor's edge much longer... Also, I'm concerned that any who read this will figure out this paragraph was merely a vehicle for me to use the word "sinuous" in a sentence.

'scratch....scratch'

"they tooks the preciousss from us, Briggsee! tricksie little guitar players!"

"Wha? Who's out there?".... I must be slipping. Voices in my head? Oh God!

The door opens. Another silouhette - slightly smaller head this time.
"Let's get you out of those shackles, Marcus!" It was James.
"It's just Marc, actually..." I said.
"Sure thing, Marcus. It's time to lay down some tracks. Have you learned your parts?"

James leads me down a hallway. Haunting shadows play across the walls in the flickering torch lit corridor - and again, I hear... 'scratch....scraaatch'

"what's taters....precious? tricksy triscksters....but...but, masters' nice to us...he's Briggsee's friend! No! he wants the preciousss!!!!"

"Did you hear something, James?" I asked.
"That's Briggsee." He said. "He's been following for some time now. I believe he serves a purpose in our task, somehow."
"I thought he played bass."
James chuckled, "Oh right! That is his purpose...completely slipped my mind. Keep moving, Marcus."
"It's just Mar...oh, forget it."

We continue down the corridor and pass another cell. A haunting chorus of moans rise from within. James explained to me that the cell contains former members of Supersofar who's musical ideas he didn't care for. He then violently struck with a steel rod at the emaciated hand that reached out through the bars of the cell. I try not to let him see my fear, and the fact that i've wet myself.

"And to your left is the Hell of the upsidedown sinners", James stated - a little too lightheartedly, "Mikey got the idea to build it after watching Big Trouble in Little China".

Finally - We reach the control room of the studio. Briggsee is perched on a stool like a gargoyle and laying down some tasty bass lines. A half devoured koi fish lays at his feet. "oh yes...spoilin a nice groove. Give it to us raw and wriggling! precioussss!" He's suprisingly good looking. No wonder the chicks dig the Briggsee. Now to my parts:

"Where's the guitar?" I ask Bob, who's been leering at me while toying menaceingly with an ancient obsidian blade. He nods towards what appears to be a fencepost strung up with chicken wire.
"You want me to play that?" I said, incredulously. "I know, Marc" he said while adjusting the crude tin foil cone that sits a top his unusually large head. "It's a little harder to play, but the tone rocks...ready? We're rolling!"....

Darkness. The cell is cold, my fingers are bloody and numb. I can barely grasp the dead rat to give it a proper toss. All I can think of at this point is...Hey! That was a pretty good little session! I'm very lucky to be in this band.

Oh and this post wins the prize for most edits....Argh!