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.
June 8th, 2012
October 14th, 2013
December 23rd, 2013
September 20th, 2013
November 15th, 2012
September 28th, 2012
September 18th, 2013
July 30th, 2010