“Cracky?” Hunter called, “Where are you, buddy?”

“I’m in here! I’m in here!” Cracky cried.

Hunter sauntered into the Presidential Post-Apocalypse Lounge, the first attempt at installing a nuclear fallout shelter in the White House. It was a dismal space, yellowed walls and brown scratchy furniture. Crates of pickled eggs and canned water lined one wall.

“I hate my new office, Cracky,” Hunter said, flopping onto the lead-lined couch.

“It’s not so bad,” Cracky chirped from the tactical coffee table. “It’s cozy and private and the exhaust fan vents out the roof!”

“P-PAL,” Hunter said. “It’s called the P-PAL.”

“But no one bothers us down here,” Cracky said. “We can spend all the time together we want. And no nosy Secret Service agent will find me like my friend Gram Baggie.”

“I would never let that happen to you, Cracky. Don’t you know you’re my best friend?”

“Aw. You’re my best friend!”

Hunter reached over to the coffee table and pried off a chunk of Cracky. He screwed the crack rock into a glass stem and reached under the couch for his culinary torch. The torch flared and the rock glowed. Cracky sighed with pleasure.

“Sweet,” Hunter said in a choked voice, and coughed out a gray cloud of smoke and dead epithelial cells.

“You made me out of the freshest crack in all of Anacostia!” Cracky said happily.

Hunter hit the rock again, the glass stem heating to burn his lips. The hot stem fell out of his mouth and rolled off his chest onto the burnt umber shag carpet gone stiff with years of intern sex juices.

“Hunter?” Cracky asked. “Am I awake?”

“I don’t know,” Hunter mumbled. “Maybe?” He reached over and took Cracky, hugging him to the hollow of his chest.

“I just sometimes don’t feel all that really real,” Cracky said. “I mean, what happens to me when you finally smoke all of me?”

“I’ll go out and buy some more, lots more,” Hunter whispered. “I’ll remake you.”

“But would that still be me?” Cracky asked.

“Of course you will be you,” Hunter said. “Who else would you be?”

“I feel like I might be Theseus’ ship,” Cracky said sadly.

“I don’t know what that means,” Hunter said, and nodded off.