Verbal Winking

Admitting he was baffled that the seven days without whiskey hadn’t already made him a high-functioning member of society, local one-week sober man Trent Ross told reporters Friday he thought all his problems would have been fixed by now. “It’s been seven days since I had a drink, but I still haven’t gotten a job, started a family, and completely turned my life around,” said Ross, who questioned why he continued to have brain fog and shaking fits when he hadn’t touched a bottle of liquor since last Friday.

leaf obtained, purpose unclear

ground:

unclear

sibling obtained, purpose: biting

"Okay," says the human, dangling upside down, suspended by a group of tentacles. "I got it."

"Right," says the voice, which comes from everywhere and nowhere. "Now consider a cat. The cat thinks you're kind of like a cat, but you're so big, he has some problems understanding that all of your body is really you."

"Am I the-"

"Yes. Now listen. Especially under the blanket, the cat doesn't really know where your body begins and ends. He sees your feet, and decides to attack them. He's only play-fighting, but his claws are real sharp, so it hurts. What would you do?"

"Well," says the human, gently spinning in the tentacle's grasp, "I'd try to tuck my feet under the blanket."

"Ah, but then it's even worse," claims the voice, triumphantly, "because now your cat sees Blanket Monsters and attacks them twice as hard."

"So you have to grab the cat."

"It's either that or burrito her," says the voice, squeezing the human in the grip of its tentacles. "And since in this metaphor the blanket represents the fabric of reality as you know it, I don't think you'd find it very pleasant."

"Fair enough," says the human, blood beginning to pool in her head. "Can you please put me down, now? I promise I won't attack you again."