VLVL Rex Snuvvle

[Terrance]

> I'm doing my best, man.  

Thanks, that's more than most of us nutz do around here. 

Malingering from the joint to the nut house is doing my best ... his
arms commence to swell, and the veins squeeze up to the surface. He
clinches his eyes, and his lips draw away from his teeth. His head leans
back, and tendons stand out like coiled ropes running from his heaving
neck down both arms to his hands. His whole body shakes with the strain
as he tries to lift something he knows he can't lift, something
everybody knows he can't lift. But for just a second when we hear the
cement grind at our feet, we think, by golly, he might do it. The his
breath explodes out of him, and he falls back limp against the wall.
There's blood on the levers where he tore his hands. He pants for a
minute against the wall with his eyes shut. There's no sound but his
scraping breath; nobody's saying a thing. He opens his eyes and looks at
us. One by one he looks at the guys--even at me--then he fishes in his
pocket for all the IOUs he won the last few days at poker. He bends over
the table and tries to sort them, but his hands are froze into red
claws, and he can't work the fingers. Finally he throws the whole bundle
on the floor--probably forty of fifty dollars worth from each man--and
turns to walk out of the tub room. He stops at the door and looks back
at everybody standing around. 

But  I tried, though, Goddammit, I sure as hell did that much, now
didn't I? 

And walks out and leaves those stained pieces of paper on the floor for
whoever wants to sort through them.