My five dimensional roommate, part 2

So last time I told you that when he came out of the five dimensional closet, so to speak, things got a lot worse.

And the reason for that is that after the big reveal, he stopped pretending to be a normal human at all. I never knew what I would have to deal with.

And that made him more annoying and obnoxious than ever before.

Take his relationship with objects. Things were always appearing and disappearing around him, and not all those things were his. Stuff I clearly owned would disappear all the time. The fact that when I confronted him about it he would look all annoyed and say “I didn’t steal it, I just moved it!” and it would reappear did not change the fact that these things are not his.

And then there’s food. Good God, the food! His meat puppet body doesn’t need to eat (and he doesn’t eat “that kind of food”), so all his experiences with food were purely for pleasure.

And he has absolutely no sense of reason or restraint about it. One time I found him dipping a chocolate donut into Thai peanut sauce mixed with juice from a jar of olives. Who DOES that kind of thing?

The fact that it actually smelled kinda good just made it that much worse.

And so I am always finding his gross food experiments lying around in the kitchen or the fridge. Pureed ham and chocolate-mint sauce. Chinese BBQ duck sitting in bucket of mayo. Tacos flambe. It’s always disgusting and he never puts anything away.

He claims not to know what “away” means to a 3D like me, but I think it’s bullshit.

And then there’s his “experiments”. He claims that part of his mission is to study how things work in a world limited to three dimensions, but I can’t help but notice these little experiments of his always seem to involve fire and brightly colored paint, and not so much the beakers and centrifuges you might think.

I think he just likes watching burning paint. I won’t claim I don’t see the appeal, but still.

But the worst, the absolute worst, has got to be the bathroom.

You see, he doesn’t use it.

That meat puppet body’s digestive system is purely for show. It doesn’t work. So when he eats food, it just falls into his stomach, where nothing happens to it until he decides he wants to get rid of it.

Which he does by sticking his finger down his throat. Apparently, functioning digestive systems are optional, but the gag reflex is too useful to him to forego.

And of course, it all comes back up looking exactly like it did going down. It’s completely unchanged. And if you don’t understand how horrible that is, imagine what your last meal would look like after being all chopped up by your teeth and soaked in saliva by your mouth.

It’s completely disgusting, right? And I haven’t even told you the worst part.

Ready for this? Actually, no, you’re not. Nobody is ready for this. But consider yourself warned.

See, when he, um…. spits out his food, he doesn’t throw it away. Oh no. After all, he might want to experience that particular flavour combination again! Or maybe add something to make it even better!

No, he saves it in Ziploc bags! And when the mood strikes him, he eats it again.

See what I mean? You thought you were ready, didn’t you? You said “Oh, please. I have seen some pretty gross stuff on the Internet. How bad could it be?”.

Well now you know, and aren’t you glad that you do?

Oh, and another thing : he is constantly walking through walls[1] despite the many, many times I have asked him not to.

So I will be in the living room and he will just pop up out of nowhere. But it’s not quite like a magic trick, because if I happen to be looking in the right direction, I can clearly see his body ripple and bubble and tremble like someone just kicked the mirror. In these brief flashes, I have seen, in aggregate, nearly every cell of him, inside and out.

That’s more than I want to know about anyone, including myself, thank you very much.

Oh, and speaking of which, I am always walking in on him and seeing him with, say, all the skin on his left side missing, or a big lumpy mess where his head should be, and that shit is fucking disturbing.

But I have stopped saying anything about it, because when I do, he goes real, real quiet and looks super embarrassed and ashamed, and begs me to please, please forget about it.

So he’s the one who had his brain hanging out, and I’m the one who ends up feeling guilty.

So by now you, you are probably wondering why I put up with it. If he does all these gross horrifying disgusting things, why not just kick him out and get a normal roommate?

Well, leaving aside the issue of whether or not it’s possible to force someone who has six inches and two dimensions on you to do anything, the truth is, he pays his rent on time, he doesn’t drink or smoke or bring women home, and he’s very good about not making noise when I am trying to sleep. Plus, I really, really hate interviewing potential roommates. Plus I would have to give him his deposit back, and I spent that ages ago. Plus, I get the feeling that would get him in trouble with whoever it is he works for, and he is terrified of them.

Oh, and there’s one more thing.

Despite everything, I think I’m starting to like him.

What the HELL is wrong with me?

Footnotes    (↵ returns to text)

  1. And yes yes, I know, geometry buffs, he’s not walking through it, he’s walking around it through one of the dimensions he has and we don’t. But you get the point… right?

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