Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Have Ray Gun! Will Travel! Please Pay Me! (part 2)

I have left my office behind me. I did not like that office. The radioactive roaches insulted me as I packed. In Spanish. I do not speak Spanish. Nobody except radioactive roaches speak Spanish since Spain was nuked from orbit. Just to be sure.

The office is also gone now, just like Spain. I hit it with the "Purify" setting, and now there is just a smoking crater where it used to be. People are looking at me funny. Perhaps it is because I have just vapourised an office. Perhaps it is because I am carrying my pants over my shoulder, and am counting my money. I must have the pants laundered first. The roaches them. Terrible, terrible things.

Overhead great neon buildings glow sullenly. Neon flashing buildings used to kill more people than drugs, wars, or my ray gun. They created awful, horrible seizures in the backs of the brains of rocket ship pilots. The buildings don't flash anymore. There is no law against them flashing. There just isn't any more power for them. A rocket ship pilot had a temporal lobe seizure and crashed into the emergency backup plant that all the neon buildings were illegally tapped into.


I have now had my pants laundered. People are looking at me more normally. This might also be because I had myself laundered in the process. I am now gloriously clean. I am now as clean as the day that Dirk Gradient stole my rocket ship. My hate for Dirk Gradient keeps me young, but it does not remove the need for regular bathing. If only hate would keep me clean. Then I would never have to be laundered again.

My laundry stub entitles me to one free rocket shuttle to the space port. Once they have laundered you they never want you back. I wonder if Cindy the Girl-Computer left me because of the time I asked her to launder me. But I will not dwell upon Cindy. No, I will dwell upon my good fortune.

With a validated rocket permit they let me onto the rocket shuttle without asking to check my ray gun. I have a card in my wallet stating that I must carry it. For religious reasons. Most people do not ask. I tell them that "Purify" is a religious experience that I cannot share with living beings. They believe me, because I have a righteous look in my eye.

I am beginning to wonder if maybe I wasn't driven a little crazy by Dirk Gradient stealing my rocket ship. Is it wrong that whenever I close my eyes I dream of spacing Dirk Gradient? This cannot be wrong. I will have my revenge.


The rocket shuttle has landed. They have given me free liquor. They say that I will need it to survive my next rocket voyage. The great, gleaming phallus-like rocket ship stands before me, the elevator extending from it like a giant inviting tongue. The penis of space wants to eat me before it ejaculates me into the ether. This is not a comforting thought. This is why they have given me liquor.

Aboard the rocket ship I am strapped in and well liquored before they count down the interstellar rocket firing. I am wedged against a bulkhead. My window has a crack in it. I am worried about the crack, but I am a Space Adventurer! Dirk Gradient, puny Space Agent that he is, would worry about the crack. But I shall not!

...Instead I shall worry about the great elephantine she-beast that has taken the seat next to me. She smells of wet moose and her bulk has embeded me into the bulkhead. Is it in my mind, or has the crack gotten wider? Perhaps God will take mercy and swallow me into space. My frozen corpse will drift through the cosmos until it lodges firmly into the stabilizer of the rocket ship that Dirk Gradient stole from me. And then Dirk Gradient will run into a sun. HAH! That will be my final revenge.

The rocket ship has cleared atmo now. We are in the black, and the crack has not yet sucked me into space. But the elephant woman next to me is asking over and over again where her peanuts are. She is weightless and has no peanuts. This cannot be good. I sip my liquor through a straw and try to avoid the thought of how her weight will crush me in zero-gravity. The pilot engages the interstellar rockets, and we are propelled into the cosmos at fifteen times the speed of light.

I am coming for you, Dirk Gradient! I will have my revenge!

I have my ray gun! I am travelling! You *will* pay me!


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