All By Myself
Byline: Stacy? Tracy? I'm not going back and looking it up
Dateline: Before the deadline
Heya, SEG-errrrr.....ah, Hello, Monster Column....-ers. I almost blew 10 months back pay. That's $9000 I'd never see again. Just checking in on you to make the deadline. Gary wants everyone to know he's managing an 80's hip hop nostalgia act, Re-Run DMC. They'll be appearing next weekend, all weekend at the Velvet Rose, right near the Sioux Falls airport.
I've been resting, getting over a case of Post Hive-mind Syndrome. My brain has billions of memories from unfiltered stimulus and now it has to sort through it all. Gary says I'll shake it off after a few days, but not to be surprised if I forgot how to drive or play the clarinet. My brain will be in such a mad rush to clean house that it'll throw out some babies with the bathwater. It can get rid of those two years of German and the time I walked in on my parents. But then I might end up like Picard when he didn't get stabbed in the heart and wound up some loser in stellar cartography with a comb over. My brain can burn that factoid as well. I didn't need to lose my middle name. I'd look on my drivers license but I can't remember where I put it.
What my brain does seem to want to hang onto is small chunk of the minds of everyone else who’s been assimilated. The lady in Knoxville with all the tattoos. The guy in Lansing who bites his toenails. The kid in Palmdale who likes to cover his hand in rubber cement and light it on fire. If I could locate each and every one of them and give them Gary’s antidote I could end the Hivemind’s activities on Earth. But is that really something I want to get into right now? I’ll run it past Gary after his Grandmaster Flashback show.