Cheap Gothic Soap Opera, Part 67

On the fortieth round, Toni had just woken up from a "walking sleep." The familiar hall-way of the studio building glided by, and the elevator, and the man with the dogs. And just as a foamy river, its dikes broken, rushes forth and overruns the fields of wheat and meadows while the helpless shepherd hears the noise and hastens to investigate the dire uproar, so too did Toni have to urinate. He had realized much before this that all of the original sensations remained intact, and so he flinched and cringed in vain when ever he neared that nail hidden in the carpet, or the banana peel on the slippery slope, or the hidden bed of charcoals.

On the fiftieth round, he was in the lobby of the studio again, and something caught the corner of his eye. That damned hat-rack! Why did it have such sharp and obtrusive spikes!? And then, and then, maybe because of the damage to his retina, or maybe because the hat-rack was spiked...with LSD, but something unfamiliar glinted in the periphery of his vision.

On the fifty-first round, it happened again, but it was more distinct. And later on, in the studio itself, he saw some little unmoving dot on the stage. Over the next hundred rounds, these things became more and more prominent, until finally much of the world he was in was covered with little "holes" that resembled areas that some non-euclidean trans-dimensional acid had eaten away. Finally, on round 458, one of them was large enough as to be in his path as he walked out of his office. He foot sank in, and, unable to move, his body twitched and quivered, and the walls all around began to creak and to be dragged into the holes. And soon, the whole world was being pulled around his foot and through the hole, and soon he was falling too, being stretched into the place.

Silence
Black
White
Blue
Darkness

Tony was sitting in a drawing room, and there were people there, and portraits of them, and they were drinking brandy.

(OP: Ben, January 18 2008)