Pineapple Torture

I recently spent the night at one of my friend's houses.  My friend is also recently unemployed, and has discovered the joys of cleaning everything until her fingers bleed. So when she said "spent the night, you know everything is covered in a thin sheen of bleach" I thought to myself WHY NOT? SHE'S AS PSYCHOTIC AS I AM! WE COULD GET DRUNK AND TALK ABOUT ALL THE VARIOUS THINGS WE HAVE CLEANED. I would go first, and tell her how I took all the pipes off the undersides of the sinks and washed all the gunk out of them in the bathtub. And then we would laugh and discuss how psychotic we were and how we used to be normal when we were working.

Instead, we watched a movie and drank. A couple of beers in her and a couple of cheerleader beers in me later - we both passed out. At some point in time, I started sleepwalking. Except sleepwalking isn't really what she would call it. She would call it "Sleep Waterboarding."

See, apparently when the DVD player kicked off after being idle for so long, the news came on. And it was about torture. Specifically, waterboarding. The thing about this sleep disorder is usually if there is a TV on, whatever I am hearing while I sleep is the direction my dreams take.

She wakes up to the water in the kitchen going on for thirty seconds, it getting shut off, and me saying "mmmmmmmmmmmTALK!"

My friend gets up to investigate, and finds me doing the following: I am waterboarding a pineapple. She wakes me up, and we have the following conversation:

Friend: I am sorry...what are you doing?

Me: Uh, oh sorry, I must have been sleepwalking.

Friend: ...are you waterboarding my pineapple?

Me: [sheepishly] Yes. Yes I am.

Friend: .....WHY?

Me: He wouldn't talk. See, I was having a dream that I had to find out where they hid The Bomb and the guy wasn't talking, so I took off his head and decided to try torture.

Friend: Ah. Decapitation FIRST, then torture, I see.

Me: Apparently it was during the Cold War too, since, you know, I was looking for The Bomb.

Friend: I thought you were a Methodist? Aren't they against torture?

Me: Yeah. And really, I never thought I would have the constitution to torture someone.

Friend: On the plus side, after the tomatoes witnessed what you did, I doubt you will have any trouble getting answers out of them. Oh, and please do not mock-execute my dog, I swear he knows nothing.

Me: [Putting down the pineapple] I think I need to call my Pastor...

 

So yes, I will not be spending the night at anyone's house in the near future, thin sheen of bleach or not.