"Hey Katie. You want to be my art exhibit?" asked Alice

"Be it?" I asked.

"Yea."

"Like put me on display."

"Sort of. Claire's doing it too."

"What sort of art is it?"

Alice sighed as if it was a stupid question. "It's a commentary on the commodification of the human body."

"Isn't that what your last exhibition was?"

"No, that was on the commercialization of the soul."

"Those sound rather similar. And last time, you just had a glass bottle on display labeled 'Anna.'"

"The bottle was Anna."

"Yea, she mentioned … she told me you sucked her into a bottle like a genie."

"Yep."

"Well, I guess I'll just ask this then — is this going to be another one of those things?"

"You mean magic."

"Sure."

"Then yes, it's one of those things."

"Okay. I'll do it. Just wanted to know."

Claire and I stood waiting in the gallery. Alice was late again.

We smirked at each other.

"Did she tell you?" asked Claire.

"No," I said.

"Me neither. I wonder what it is this time. Did you see her last show?"

"The commercialization of whatever-whatever?"

"No, it was about ants."

"Then no."

"Well, it was pretty much an ant farm."

"Clever."

"But the ants were the size of squirrels."

"Really?"

"She said she'd used Aztec magic to giantize them. It was supposed to remind people about how relative things are, or whatever it was."

"I wonder what we're in for."

The door swung open. I heard Alice's chatty voice before I saw here. She came in followed by another girl, tanned and athletic, and a guy with scruffy hair in a white t-shirt.

"Hey girls," she said, grinning. Her bubbly personality led us both to instantly forgive her tardiness. "This is Paul and Monica."

The two newcomers looked at us like they knew a secret.

"They're hear to help me with the hanging."

"I thought we were the exhibit?"

"You are! Your bodies I mean. Those are the exhibit."

"So what do you need to hang?"

Alice shook her head as if I were being obtuse. That's not a word she'd normally use though.

"I think she means to hang us up."

"Actually not you, just Katie."

"Me?" I stammered.

"Yea, don't worry. Paul's a licensed warlock!"

I bit my lip, trying to hide the fact that I was laughing.

"All right, let's hang me on the wall."

"First we gotta take off your arms and legs." Alice set her bag down on the floor.

"Sure," I shrugged, still laughing. "Whatever."

I jumped back a bit when Alice pulled out a knife in a leather sheath. She casually undid the metal snap holding it in place, then drew out the knife and dropped the sheath on her bag. She motioned for me to come over.

"You're really going to do this?"

"It's a magic knife," said Monica, who hadn't spoke yet.

Alice shot her a look. "You spoiled it! I wanted to keep her going for a minute. But yes, it's a magic knife. See?"

She held up her hand, facing me. Then she stuck the point of the knife through it. The knife stayed there, skewering her hand as she flexed it back and forth. Then she drew it back out.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"Eh, sort of. It's not as bad as a chainsaw though." Behind her, I saw Paul giggle.

"All right, fine. Let's just do this, okay?"

"Take off your clothes first. You too Claire."

"Are you serious?" Claire looked from Alice to me.

"She's holding a knife," I said. "A magic knife. We'd better do what she says."

I would have usually been a bit more resistant. But I'd known Alice a while now. And there was something about her, something that sometimes you couldn't quite explain. She had a quality, a seriousness about her ridiculous art that made it more valid somehow. Around her, the surreal seemed a little more real. If she said she had a magic knife, I guess she had a magic knife.

There was also some distant, drunken memory starting to stir in the back of my mind. Not just Anna's story of "she turned me into a genie," which had all the credibility of a saturday morning cartoon, but it was another time with Alice, our freshman year. A drunken night, and something had happened between the first bottle of gin and the second. It could have been a dream, a blacked-out hallucination, but I somehow remembered swapping bodies with Alice, who had seemed to cradle her own head in her arms. A dream, probably, or remembered as a dream, but just then watching her with the knife it came to me that that must have actually happened.

I submitted to her second silly request, removing my clothes and standing there naked in front of these two strangers. At least I was in an art gallery where this sort of thing might pass for almost-kinda-normal.

"Okay now," said Alice. "Better sit down."

I did. Alice didn't hesitate. Chop, chop, chop, chop. I sort of couldn't believe it was that easy. She gathered up my arms and legs and lay them in a pile. It hadn't hurt a bit.

"Alright, you have the drill?" she turned to Monica. Monica did have the drill.

"I'll just sit here then. Okay?"

"Art doesn't talk, dummy," jeered Claire.

"My art can talk," said Alice, offended.

"Okay, some art can talk."

Alice fired up the drill, and then quickly put four holes through me, one inside each shoulder, and another two just at my waist.

"So what am I representing here?" I asked. "I mean, if I'm a piece of art, what should I tell people the exhibit is about?"

"What do you think you represent?" asked Alice.

"I don't know! That's why I'm asking!"

"Sure, but art is a conversation. The artist does something, and the audience responds to it somehow. It's not 'supposed' to be anything — there might be a topic I want to discuss with the piece, but the response is left up to everyone else."

"Okay, maybe that was too specific. So I'll ask this — how does cutting off my arms and legs and mounting me on the wall, I get that its provocative, but what do you have in mind with this?"

Alice grinned. "Well, we're not going to mount you on the wall. We're going to hang you from the ceiling."

That's what they did. For the next hour or so, Alice and Paul worked on hanging me up from some hooks on the ceiling with clear hanging wire. The effect of it was that seemed to float, lying on my back, in the middle of the room.

"My neck is going to get tired like this," I pointed out.

"Don't worry," said Alice. "I've got one more adjustment to make."

I saw her get out the knife. While I was still swaying from the wires, she sliced right through my neck, cutting off my head.

"So I'm sorry I avoided your question before," said Alice. "But I want this to be an experience for you as well. And if I told you what I would do to you first-off, well, first there was the possibility you might change your mind, but also it wouldn't have the same effect. In any case, this is how the exhibit will look."

She set my head on top of my stomach, so that I was facing my boobs. Then she backed up and took a picture.

"So you're using my body to display my head?" I asked.

"Something like that. And I guess I'll ask you about this part, but I was going to put a sign in front of you that says 'please touch the art.'"

"Haha, oh no. You mean I'm going to get fondled all night?"

"Is that alright with you?"

"Sure, sure. This is all so strange anyhow."

"And don't worry, everyone who comes to these showings will be very respectful."

"Just please don't sell me," I laughed.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot."

From her bag she got out a barcode printer. A couple minutes I had a price tag for $2,000 attached to my ear.

"If someone buys me, I should at least get half of that."

"Sounds like a fair deal," said Claire. She picked me up and started examining me. Then she turned to Alice. "Do you have this in a redhead?"

"How come Claire costs more money that I do?" I asked. Now that the wires were in place, I'd been unstrung from the ceiling until the show would start. My torso lay slumped in the corner while my arms and legs were still in a pile at the far end of the room. They'd set my head on a pedestal so I could watch the work Alice was doing to Claire — Alice had cut her down to a only bust, and was arranging her on a pedestal. Claire was priced at $3,500.

"Because I have boobies," said Claire. "And you're just a head."

Alice grinned as she put the finishing touch on Claire, sticking a price tag through a nipple.

"Ahh, that hurts a bit, magic knife or not."

"You'll be fine," I said, sticking out my tongue.

"What about my body," I asked. "Is that going to be for sale as well."

Alice just gave me a raised eyebrow look that said "Yes of course."

"I think she's done," said Paul.

"Looks good to me," said Alice. "Monica, are you ready?"

Now, I had thought what happened to me might be a bit extreme. But Alice's friend Monica, well, I can only imagine she was in on it from the start — Paul and Alice meticulously cut her body into small pieces — hands and feet, sections of her limbs, her boobs were removed. cubes of flesh from her torso. And then they turned their attention to her head, taking off her ears and nose, removing her eyes, and cutting the top half of her head from the lower part. Her hair came off like it was a wig.

Once they'd reduced her to a jumble of bits, they threw everything in a rubbermaid container and labeled it "Bargain Bin." Paul rummaged through her a bit just to mix everything together.

Throughout the ordeal, Monica didn't protest as much as just giggle. As bizarre as my own predicament was, I had no idea how to compare it to hers.

"So what does that feel like?" I asked.

"You asking me?" said Monica. I couldn't see where her mouth was.

"Yea, I'm curious."

"It's … tough to sum up. Every time I move something I feel it brush against another unexpected surface, and different bits slide against each other all the time. But after a couple minutes I don't notice it as much."

"You've done this before then?"

"Oh yea, I love being chopped up. My favorite is the time I was pureed."

"We made smoothies," said Paul, grinning.

"Can someone scratch my nose please," interrupted Claire.

"Sure thing," said Alice. She gently scratched Claire's nose. Then, looking around, she put her hands on her hips and turned to Paul.

"Alright, I think that's everything. Except for me."

"You're going to be cut up too?" I asked.

"Yes and no. Paul is going to help me remove one of my dimensions. Then I play the role of the saleslady."

"You're going to be two-dimensional?"

"Yea, it's really cool. Watch this," she said.

Paul got some things out of his bag — crystals, candles, little totems — and laid them around the room in a meticulous pattern. Then he gestured to Alice who came over. He put his hands on her shoulders. All of a sudden he was rolling her up like a poster.

"That's so cool!" I said. "When we get put together again, can I try that?"

"You mean if nobody buys you," said Claire.

"I hope someone buys you too," I stuck out my tongue.

"I don't know, you're a much better bargain."

"No, I'm the bargain," said Monica.

Paul went to the wall and unrolled Alice. He stuck her up against it and held her there for a second.

"What's he doing?" I asked.

"Well, flattening Alice was the first step. The next is to install her in the room, so she can still walk around."

"You mean she'll be able to move around?"

"Exactly!" said Alice. She looked like a projection on the wall. She took a few steps over towards us, but stayed fixed against the wall.

"Alright, is that everything?" asked Paul.

"I think so," said Alice. You can go if you want.

"What about us?" asked Claire.

"What do you mean? The show is tomorrow."

"But yea, we just … wait?"

"You're a piece of art now," I said. "So yea, you wait."