Keanu Reeves Gave Me The Notebook
And I got inspired to write and draw, but nothing exploded this time
We arrived at the Chateau by night after reaching the airport and taking a supersonic jet, similar to one of those supersonic jets.
I remember thinking that was impossible. With all probability, I was still at the hospital, dying from a morphine overdose. Yes, I had been interned at The Hospital after hitting my head 33 times against a brick wall out of desperation for ideas to write for a Vocal challenge.
The only thing that came to me was a listicle of 33 Reasons for Not Smashing Your Head Against a Wall and eleven stitches on my head.
But there I was, inside a futuristic jet after surviving the attack of several Lindsay Lohan clones and taking land vertically on a platform that appeared on the ground, where a barn had been moments before.
After the jet had landed, the platform descended to a height of about four floors and the ceiling closed again above us.
Then we headed to an elevator that took us even deeper. And then spent what seemed like an eternity going down until the elevator suddenly stopped and we appeared in a large hall that had some golf-carts parked. We took one of them and drove through the hall until we were in front of a door with a graffiti that said "Pete was here."
We crossed it and we appeared in what looked like an extensive wine cellar, full with computers placed in old and worn-out tables, thrown around the floor were lots of pieces of electronics, and a cat that was licking his balls.
"Welcome to The Underground, the resistance HQ." Keanu said.
"I thought the sedatives effect would have worn off by now." I said.
"When reality strikes, it's normal to take shelter in madness." Keanu replied.
"So, this is real?"
"What means real? where do we decide to place the limit between facts and our hyperactive imagination? If you cut a car in half, do you get two bikes?"
I was reflecting in that riddle when a silhouette well-known by me appeared from another room. It was Audrey.
"I'm glad to see you both made it." She said. "Keanu, have you told him the thing?" She continued.
"I have seen The Thing, it is about…" I began.
"Not the movie, something different. Let's go to our meeting room, I'll explain it there." He said, and we proceeded towards the end of the room.
We passed near a door behind which someone was screaming "WE NEED GUNS! LOTS OF GUNS!" in between a mechanical chugging. The door had an inscription which said "Eric".
"He was already here when we found the place. Apparently it was an experiment that went wrong time ago. But he seems to enjoy his existence." Keanu said.
We entered the meeting room, and Keanu tossed a small black notebook to me, which I caught mid-air.
"Do you know what this is?" He asked.
"A notebook" I replied.
"No. It is a reality changer, it can create and change universes."
"Here it says 'Moleskine'" I replied.
"Yes, it says Moleskine because the author wants it to say that, for creative purposes. But it's actually a reality alterer, and if I'm correct, you are one of the very few in this universe who are ready to use it. So go ahead and try to write something on it. We need to confirm that." He told me deadly serious.
I decided to try it, so, taking a pen from the table, I began drawing in the notebook. As soon as I finished, a 6-inch dildo manifested itself in the middle of the table.
"A penis?" Keanu asked.
"It's the most human impulse by males when they are given the chance to draw something," I replied, reciting by memory my biology lessons and mentally ignoring the giant dildo that had materialized. Dildos do not materialize like that.
I tried writing something instead.
"Suddenly, $20,000 appeared in my bank account." I wrote. I did it in narrative style to see what would happen.
Right then, my phone buzzed, and my bank account showed a balance of $20,000.
"Holy shit" I yelled, throwing the notebook away.
"You don't get scared by the sudden materialization of a giant dildo, but then lose your shit when some money appears in your bank account?" Keanu asked.
"I'm a writer, to me, the most paranormal happening is to have money." I replied.
"Makes sense, the others were poor too." He said.
"Others? Oh, I mean Otters. Damn otters with their fur, and their stare of self-importance." He said, clearly trying to avoid explaining me some Otter invasion. "Know this, you are a Creator, and you can shape the universe. Please, Audrey, explain everything to him while I go to tell the news to the oracle." He finished while he left the room.
"Well, surprise, I'm part of an underground movement." Audrey said with her characteristic smile.
"But how? At my time in the hospital, I thought you were just the kind nurse that looked like Audrey Hepburn and shared her name." I said.
"Well, I never liked bullies, and since I was a little girl, I used to stand against them, until I got captured and had to spend some years of my life in their power, which after having survived WWII, and having fought the Nazis was quite horrible to me, so when I was old, and after liberating myself again, I joined the resistance against the elite, and here I am now. By the way, I look like Audrey Hepburn because I am Audrey Hepburn."
"Bullshit, I don't believe it. Audrey Hepburn would be like one hundred years old now," I said.
"Come with me, I have to show you something." She said while gently taking my hand.
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JM is a Spanish writer who endlessly talks about cars, philosophy, and revolution when he's not playing guitar or annoying his friends with bad jokes. You can follow him on Twitter to see more content: @jm_miana.