The Fish Poison Con by William S Burroughs

"So I walk in on this Pleasantville croaker and tell him I have contracted this Venusian virus and subject to dissolve myself in poison juices and assimilate the passers-by unless I get my medicine and get it regular – So I walk in on this old party smelling like a compost heap and steaming demurely and he snaps at me, "What’s your trouble?”

"The Venusian Gook Rot, doctor."

"Now see here young man my time is valuable."

"Doctor, this is a medical emergency."

Old shit but good – I walked out on the nod –

 Audio cribbed from Ubuweb.  Text clipped from the Google Books preview of Nova Express

It was agreed that since the meaning of the balloon could never be known absolutely, extended discussion was pointless, or at least less purposeful than the activities of those who, for example, hung green and blue paper lanterns from the warm gray underside, in certain streets, or seized the occasion to write messages on the surface, announcing their availability for the performance of unnatural acts, or the availability of acquaintances.