"Jesus, Summer, alright I'm awake. Stop yelling. You'll wake up the neighbors, I'll get evicted." I'm even more wake now. "How did you get in here?" I ask.
"With this nifty little bogus warrant." She replies. But she is not her perky self. She is anxious. I can tell she is worried....about something.
"Summer-it's 3AM for crying out loud. What do you want?"
"Mitt Romney has it!"
"He has the gun Gerald!" Her eyes are wild.
She is pensive and yet sharply focused now. "He has the prototype. He has the Skunk Works Multiverse Gun! Do you have any idea what he can do with it?? What he's done?"
"Whoa, slow down Summer; you're saying Mitt Romney has the gun you used to bring that altruistic version of you from the other universe, the one you stole all the money from?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying Gerald...Jesus were you always this thick or have the years of reefer taken a toll on you?"
I'm wide awake now, annoyed but curious.
"Wait...Summer what makes you think Romney has the SWMG-666 Prototype?" I finally ask her.
"Don't be stupid Gerald. How else do you think he was able to go back and retroactively retire from Bain?" She is busy rummaging through the shit on my desk and I watch her intently hoping she doesn't steal anything.
"C'mon Summer, that doesn't mean anything. Just yesterday, Pat Bagley had a cartoon in the Salt Lake Tribune where he claims they used a Large Hadron Collider and Higgs Boson to do that.
She shoots me a condescending exasperated glare. "You're so naive. Higgs Boson has been around for awhile. Obama used it to go back and place birth announcements. Liberal Hollywood producers used it to go back and add a character named Bane to the Batman comic and the Mormon Church has used it for decades to keep God garrisoned in an electro-magnetic oscillating universe room deep beneath the Temple in Salt Lake City."
“So, Rush was right about the Batman thing after all!” I say under my breath. I don't want to give Summer an excuse to go off on one of her far right tirades. I'm still holding out hope I'll get back to sleep before daylight.
Now I'm sitting at my desk under my loft bed digging the last of the resin out of my pipe. Summer was the closest thing to a connection I ever had but that was long ago, back when things were good. Now it's catch as catch can.
Summer goes on to explain the difference between “the God particle” and the working principle behind the SWMG 666 Prototype: “Higgs Boson involves matter cohesion, string theory, mass and excitation of energy fields. The SWMG Prototype, on the other hand, works like a complex bong. My real worry is that Romney will use the gun, my gun!!! to go back and fix his tax return and off shore banking problems, that when he finally releases his taxes they will have been retroactively sanitized."
“So what you're saying Summer, is that right now every girl I've ever had sex with is using Higgs Boson to retroactively “not' have sex with me?”
“Wow” I intone again-more sadly this time.
“So, what's the plan then Summer? There's no way you can even get close to Romney, even with all your FBI credentials. By the way, how did you find all that shit out about the Mormon Church and Higgs Boson, God in the basement and all that?”
“You forget Gerald, I have total run of the Salt Lake field office's Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility. And by the way, I think you'd be amazed at the file they have on you.”
“Really, Summer? You mean it? Or are you just trying to butter me up again? What do you want now?”
“No, I'm serious...it's voluminous...they've been keeping pretty close tabs on you.”
“So, I'm notorious and tough eh?” I admit I sound proud now. This irks Summer as it always does when I attempt to show any self esteem.
“Well actually, no you aren't. The last entry regarding you shows the Bureau getting involved in an aborted plot against you by the Westboro Baptist Church. Did you know they sent out two twelve-year-old girls to put a beating on you?”
I had no idea.
What followed was a rambling presentation from Summer...diagrams of the Romney estate...something about the SWMG Prototype being stored inside the trunk of Romney's car, which, Summer is sure, he keeps parked in his subterranean and secured car elevator. She has a plan, but I'm tired and I merely nod back at her uncomprehendingly when she asks if I'm following her.
A paper slams hard against the front door of my apartment complex. Morning nautical twilight falls over the east bench of the Wasatch Front. Summer DiVino's voice begins to fade like a dream. When I awake a few hours, later she is gone, like she was never there.
But my lighter is missing...