Damn. I just ran over a pothole, my space-suspension can’t take much more of this. This inter-dimensional highway needs to get fixed pronto! I keep driving, only to be greeted with another pothole. This time, the LCD dashboard lights up and starts flashing. It appears I have a flat existential wheel. I think I’ve got a spare in the back..
Shit! I have the spare but I forgot to bring my crono-suit! Now if I step out there I’ll die of old age and be unborn at the same time. Now I’ll have to wait for another skipper to come by. Wait, I think I see a cyber-tronic repair station up ahead! But how am I going to get there?
Just my luck. My day off and I get stranded within the confines of time. I step on the gas, but my non-existent existential wheel prevents me from moving forward. Man these things are unreliable. I knew I should have bought time treads. Think… Think!
I’m starting to feel the aging and un-aging process happen simultaneously. Luckily, the skippers hull of timeless steel is keeping most of it out, but if I don’t get out of here soon, back to the womb, six feet under I go. That’s it, I’m calling triple S.
“Hello, this is Skipper Space Service. How may I help you?”
“Uh, yes, hello. It appears my skipper has broken down on Inter-dimensional Highway, Sector 233.”
A catchy tune started playing, Welcome to Gorgon. I prefer the Space Apes personally.
“Ok, so a skipper has been sent to tow your vessel. Have a nice starturn!”
The line went dead. Well, I might as well get comfortable while I wait. I grabbed a six pack of cosmic brew from my space glove compartment. It was covered in chrono particles. I wiped it off on my shirt and opened the can. It was warm and tasted like Star Unicorn urine, but hey, that’s just the way I like it. For a split second, I became too young to drink, but the reverse effects kicked in and sent me well into my thirties. That was a close one. The last thing I want to do is get a fine for under age drinking. They better get here soon, because I don’t want to re-live my childhood years, nor do I want experience senility before my time.<
A skipper pulled up besides me.
The driver pressed a clipboard against the window, and I confirmed that it was me who he was looking for. He latched onto my vehicle with a laser hook, and started to drive off, bringing me with him. So much for visiting the 80’s on my weekend off, and back home I go.
I hope they don’t realize my SSS membership expired years ago. Or was that in the future?
Miro is a 15 year old worldschooler, and worn traveler, He learns through life and is a bold writer. Breaking toilets in Latin America since 2009.
August 31st, 2012
April 17th, 2012
June 18th, 2014
March 18th, 2011
August 14th, 2011
May 10th, 2012