She sighs, and pushes me off. 'I gotta get this. Please don't make a sound.'
As she gets up, I remember that I have another trigger. "Gas trap. Two minute delay," I say to her as she leaves the bedroom. Aside from a moment's pause when I say the words, she doesn't react.
Consciously, at any rate.
In the corridor, I listen. The phone stops warbling. 'Hi, Alison.' There is a pause. 'I'm okay. Yeah, I'm at home, alone. As usual.' I bite my knuckles.
'So what happened today? I kind of missed you after the last lecture. Where did you go?' Silence for a moment, broken by the occasional 'Yeah' and 'Mm-hmm.'. Then I hear the snap of Cassie's lighter. A sharp intake of breath. An exhale. 'No, of course I'm not smoking again. Why would you think that?'
A few more sounds of agreement, a few nods, yeahs and an 'Mm-hmm.' She takes a drag and says 'No. Would I lie to you?' and giggles, smoke wreathing her face. I catch my breath. But then I realise that two minutes haven't quite gone by. It hasn't started yet.
I've suggested to Cassie that, somewhere in the living room, possibly under her sofa, there is a cylinder of laughing gas - and that it will fill the room with laughing gas within two minutes of her entering the room.
Another exhale, and I peer around the corner to see Cassie sitting on the sofa, her back turned to me, and a streamer of smoke being blown into the air. Smoke from her cigarette rises into the room as well. She leans forwards to flick the ash into the ashtray, and at that point the suggestion begins to take effect. Cassie snorts and giggles for a moment, and controls herself.
'No, sorry, Alison. I'm sorry. I know. Breaking up with Dick isn't very funny.'
She pauses for a moment, the cigarette poised halfway to her lips. 'Sorry. Mike.' A second later, a chortle spills from her mouth. 'Sorry. Sorry. No, I've no idea what came over me. He sounds like a douche. You're better off dumping the bastard.'
I hear the chuckle rising, trying to escape. I've suggested that the longer things go on, the stronger the gas gets and the stronger its effect on her.
'No,' Cassie says, trying to stifle the laughter, 'he sounds like a monster. Believe me, you're better off without him -'
Now the laughter cannot be contained. She giggles hysterically, holding the phone away from her. Cassie tries to restrain herself. Somehow, she manages to get some measure of self-control, and puts the phone back to her ear.
'Yeah, sorry, I don't know what's -' she begins. She shakes her head. 'No, I'm not flutered. I only had one drink.' A snort escapes her lips. 'No, seriously.' She giggles as the suggestion supersedes her senses. 'No, I am being serious -'
The laughter is hysterical, unending, uncontrollable. Cassie holds the phone away from her to spare Alison. I enter the room, standing in front of Cassie. I'm naked and I have a huge erection. Cassie sees this and her laughter doubles in volume. Calmly, I reach for her phone, take it from her unresisting hands and listen.
'Hello? Hello? Cassie, are you there? What's going on?'
Quietly, I put the phone on hands free mode, so Cassie can hear Alison's concerned voice. 'Cassie? What is going on? Why are you laughing? Stop it!'
But Cassie is lost to the suggestion; lost to the gas. I give the phone back to Cassie. Her face is red, and there are tears in her eyes. She cannot stop laughing.
The phone drops to the sofa, and disconnects.
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