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The aspirin doesn't seem to be really cutting the headache. Bill considered rummaging around in the boxes at the end of the room for something stronger for a while, but decides it seems like entirely too much trouble. He stares blankly at a crumpled piece of paper on the floor beside the sofa for a long time--whether for minutes or hours, he can't quite seem to tell. He doesn't have a watch handy, and time seems to pass strangely in this place. Finally, he picks the piece of paper from the floor and slowly opens it. He sees the number on it, and in the depths of his depression, it actually takes him several seconds to realize that it was HIS number, the one this merry band of raving frootloops calls whenever they get in a tight. He laughs bitterly. The ultimate joke--the batteries in his cellphone have been dead for months, and while there's a landline phone on the coffee table that apparently works, no one ever answers regardless of what number he calls. Except...he's almost certain that that piece of paper wasn't there only a few minutes before. It hadn't been there the last time he'd paced the floor...had it? He stares at the phone for several moments. "Oh no. No, no no. Can't be," he says slowly as the glimmer of an idea takes root. "It's too stupid to work. It's too FUCKING stupid." He stopped and sighed. "And..I'm gonna do it anyway." He picked up the phone and slowly tapped in the number. He puts the handset to his ear and waits, listening to it ring on the other end. It picks up on the seventh ring. "Hello?" he hears...his voice. "This is insane," Murray says, wonderingly. "This is absolutely, completely, totally insane. "Right--okay, I can understand your confusion," the other Bill Murray says over the phone. "I can pretty well tell you that I was confused myself--well, actually, I was confused because YOU'RE confused...Okay, look, let's just start over, okay? Let's just cut straight through the bullshit--I'm YOU...from about ten years into the future. And you're ME. And I've been waiting for this call for the past decade. 'K, do you need a minute to let this sink in?"Murray is sitting on the couch, staring at the handset blankly. "Hello?" he hears. Okaaaaaay...it's him. Ten years into the future. But...him. Okay. Fine. He can deal with that. He survived working with Chevy Chase, for Chrissakes. This is a cakewalk. "Uh..no. No, I'm good. I'm good with this," he says into the handset. "So, let's just go with it. After all, I'm talking to the person I trust the most, right?" "Well, good. That's good. Okay, now...if I remember correctly, I was sitting on a sofa in one room of the Staircase Room when I first called this number," the him on the other end says, and Murray decides to listen "In fact, I remember that as the longest three months of my life. Almost as bad as that Klingon prison--oh,sorry. Just forget I said that, okay? Okay...now, you've probably figured out that the place is pretty much infinite if you tried to go up or down that staircase. If you'll stay right there, we'll see what we can do to get you out..."
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1/18/2009 8:58:40 PM
Extending Enabled
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