"Muchas gracias, mate." Sab chirped, his teeth clacking hungrily as he wiggled closer to the glass, launched his chin upwards with a flick of the jaw and landed with it balanced on the lip of the glass. A moment's careful rocking brought the straw to his side, caught it between his teeth, then he began to drink.
Contrary to what the laws of physics would have like to have happen, Sab considered such things like a working digestive system to be more of a state of mind than an anatomical requirement. After all, if a man can speak without lungs, vocal chords or a tongue, why not drink without a stomach? Only stood to reason, if he could survive not having a body, then everything else after that should be a cakewalk.
That was actually a fair point. Lack of skin and vital signs notwithstanding, he could recall being a bit taller than this not long ago. His recollection wasn't getting any better, it seemed, but he could begin to feel a lingering sense of pressure...not here, but somehow here. Like a phantom limb.
Sab concentrated for a minute and went inside his skull.
Alright. So maybe my body's somewhere 'round here. How do you go about finding something you can feel, but can't see?
A knotty one, that.
Let's try something basic. Right hand. I know I've got a right hand. Wiggle-wiggle, Mr Right.
Somewhere, like a second-hand retelling of an old joke, Sab felt something coarse drum up against a hand. His hand. More pressure. Harder.
Give it a whack!
CLONK
"Ow!" Sab yelped, lost his place and flipped over onto one side. "Buggeration."
