"Your wife owes service and power to Treehorn," said the cultist, removing my head from the chemical bath. His hands were veiny and varicose; his eyes glassy and obtuse -- they spoke of a madness. "That means YOU owe service and power to Treehorn."
I sputtered against the wall beside the chemical bath and loomed darkly beneath my sopping bangs, as the cultist with the short-cropped hair paced to and fro in my sight. Beyond him I could see the swaying of the electric light fixture. Beyond that I could see the other cultist, the man in the tight pants, standing akimbo in the center of the room, feet set wide apart, straddling a rug which I owned; a rug which held the room together.
"Ever thus to deadbeats, Lebowski."
"No," I begged him, as he turned his back to me, "No, don't do that!" I cried. "O, not on the rug!"
"Do you behold what happens now before you?" asked the man with the short-cropped hair. "Do you behold what happens now before you, Lebowski?"
"O No," I said again, "O not on the rug, man!"
But the man with the tight pants did not hear me, for his was a path of madness. Unbuttoning his trousers, he unleashed himself upon me in full force -- and, arcing yellowy urine through the air, began to micturate upon my rug.
"You don't understand!" I told him. "I am not Lebowski; no one refers to me as he! I am The Dude of Yorkshire! You have detained the wrong man! Do not micturate upon my rug!"
But too late was I, for the micturition had begun. All at once there came a screaming sound, a terrible wailing and gnashing of teeth. The cultist with the close-cropped hair began to falter; he turned to call out to his fellow with the tight pants, but there was no calling, for a darkness had entered into our sight, and a stillness into our lungs. And as the floor began to quake beneath my very feet, and the man with the tight pants could no longer stop his urine flowing, the walls began to give way, and we beheld a vast cosmos of stars.
"You do not understand!" I cried, cackling now as the sere black fury of trespass rose within me. "That rug held together this very room! And indeed, all of creation!"
