We went through a bottle of vodka and three glasses of beer with our friend F.
F is red faced “Let us talk about something interesting!” he proclaims, slamming a fist down on the table.
“You got this,” M whispers to me before excusing himself to the bathroom.
“Something interesting?” I ask F.
He nods again, with a hard frown. “I want to talk about interesting things.”
There is a silence. I take a sip of my beer and think. F begins to list off things he finds interesting.
“Poetry, literature, physics…”
Many of them I know a little about.
I open my mouth, to say something, something fascinating, I’m sure of it.
As I do, I hear a plop. A few droplets of liquid splash onto my chin. I look down through the amber fizzles of my beer and see my tongue sitting at the bottom.
I look back at F. His face is getting redder and redder as he lists of the things he finds interesting, waiting for me to participate.
I nod vigorously and try to say something, but only manage a gargled moan.
I slip two fingers into the glass and try to fish out my tongue.
“History, mathematics, economics…” F continues.
My tongue is flat and soggy at the bottom of the deep glass. My fingers barely graze the top of it. I go for a fork laying on the table. I continue to nod and make gargling sounds in the hopes that it seems I am simply waiting for my moment.
I dip the fork in and drag the tongue half-way to the surface. It slides off and floats to the bottom. I don’t want to stab it. I try to pull it up with the fork then grab it with my fingers.
“You treacherous little fucker.” I try to say, only managing a mumble.
I nearly snag it, but the glass is too narrow and I almost knock it over.
Finally, I pick up the glass and, hesitating only a moment, chug it down. The tongue slides into my mouth, past its stop, and down my throat. I nearly gag.
“Philosophy, do you know anything about philosophy!?” F snaps his attention back to me.
“Uh-huh,” I manage, drooling a bit from the corner of my mouth.