Mr Cool opened the door to his bedroom and marched forward to his four post bed. He slung himself backwards into a setting that appeared to be India's version of' "I Dream of Jeannie". Lace, chiffon and satin fabrics draped down around him as he manouvered through the brightly coloured pillows. His phalanges floundered as they rummaged throughout the maze of haberdashery. This was the result of his new addiction, spending pay cheque after pay cheque at Copperart. If there was a new throw rug, he had to have it. If there was a Moroccan lamp with half off, he would grab at it. Of course he would first argue that he felt the second 'c' was redundant and that North African spelling seemed arbitrary anyway, postulating that the Ottoman Empire sent only criminals and degenerates to inhabit the North of Africa. The young Nick was seemingly unaware that the great Turkish based empire never stretched beyond Algeria and had incorrectly asserted otherwise to Suzanne (with a Z because her parents believed it cosmopolitan, in reality it all seemed rather derivative and removed much of the beauty that existed within Susan, as coincidentally its origin lay in Middle Egypt and the lotus flower for which the name can owe an amount of intrinsic aesthetic.
Alas, his addiction to all homewares and haberdashery was quickly absorbing every facety of his life. It had quickly overtaken his Police Academy phase which had recently seen him pawn 429 autographed photos of Steve Guttenberg for the princely sum of $39.95 which was just enough to accessorise his recently acquired 'Friends'-brand coffee table. The same coffee table that was meant to be the home for the remote to his 34cm JVC television. This was the remote that he was looking for as he molested several cushions atop his king single four post bed. After one more furious thrashing of hands he happened upon his remote between the legs of his giant teddy bear, Selwyn.
Click. Vwwoooooooppppp. The TV booted up and it was just in time. You see, as much as Nick loved haberdashery, homewares, Friends, Steve Guttenberg and Savage Garden (I would fly to the moon and back, if you'll be my baby - he was talking about a dude!), he loved one thing more. This love was above it all. Above all material objects. He even thought of it as a spiritual love which was saying a lot for a young man carrying the baggage of sexual repression from not one but two Catholic schools. This had become a ritual for him.
The steam rose of his freshly delivered Pizza Hut pizza, partnered with a 2 litre bottle of Coca Cola and a mountain of Wizz Fizz. The physical ingestion of all that he viewed as holy now matched the aural and visual equivalent of doing heroin for the first time. He flew himself backwards, temporarily blinding himself as his ears folded back across his face covering both eyes. He felt good now. He felt good in his pants!
As he rolled across his bed to where his ghetto blaster was surrounded by unopened Metallica CDs he felt dirty. He knew he bought them to cover up his love for 90s pop. Inside a Rolling Stone that had Stevie Ray Vaughn on the cover, he had glued a piece that he had cut from Smash Hits Magazine. The article was an in-depth report on the inner machinations of Bachelor Girl. Buses & Trains had become Nick's feel good song of 1998. Popping opening the cassette deck, Nick fished for the tape he wanted. It was a TEAC clear cassette that had been written over time and again. The liquid paper creating an almost Himalayan shaped crest that evoked memory of his ancestry as well as his mastubatory exploits he had only began 2 years prior. He read the title of the tape and it brought joy to his face. 'The Boy Is Mine - Monica & Brandy'. It was important to Nick that he had written it as Monica & Brandy. Not because he thought the Moesha starlet was a vapid personality with a larger talent for exploiting her teen body to garner success but because his parents almost named him Moesha. Apparently with an origin in the Islamic Delhi Sultanate, Moesha was a descendant of those from Sheba who had come to settle in what is now India. Moesha was a harlot and who was also known as the strumpet of the south when translated form the sanskrit in which her name was written. Nick was more or less offended that he was almost named after the vagina that ruled much of modern day India from her back, as was the custom of the day.
Frustrated and exhausted after having thought about the origin of his dislike for all things Brandy, he fixed on his television and began his ritual. Masturbating to Sabrina the Teenage Witch.
