Fragger shook his head, trying to remember what had happened next, but nothing specific came, only a vague recollection of some “special” project. The inability to recall any details made him angry so he snapped, “Stop calling me Fragger’! My correct name is Jonathan.”

Fragger forced his eyes open as he made the demand. His voice sounded harsh and grating as if his vocal cords were vibrating in gravel not air. It also seemed detached from his body as if it were floating around the bright lights on the ceiling. He squinted through gummy lids trying to get a better look at Leery and laughed at what he saw. The Revival Technician wasn’t a squirrel. He was a man—a sweaty little pile of crap who looked squirrel-like—but a man nonetheless and wearing a strange uniform.

“On your feet, soldier!” the order came again.

Fragger attempted to get up to brace the little fucker right up against the wall, but either he didn't have any feet or he couldn't feel them. Dream terror surged.

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The Second Misadventure of Fragger Sparks