"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are now pulling away from Hacknor's gravity well and we will soon make our leap to hyperspace. Travel time will be about two hours and fifteen minutes. Please relax and enjoy your flight on the Orion Express."
I looked around the cabin and saw a man in a suit talking away on his space phone. I tell you, some people just can't put those things down. The space gypsies were huddled together talking amongst themselves and Lucky Pierre was talking loudly to anyone who would listen.
"I am ze famous Lucky Pierre," he announced. "I have made glorious works for all of ze galaxy to enjoy! You will love my next piece when I unveil it at Orion!"
"Wonderful," sniffed Jan the Intergalactic Aviator. "Is he going to talk like that for the whole flight?"
"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll pass out when we leap," I answered with a smile.
"You! You are an Earthman, aren't you?" Lucky Pierre looked me up and down.
"Yep," I replied. "I'm from Earth."
"Bah, zere is no good art from Earth!" he declared.
"I beg to differ," I said back to him. "Michelangelo, Munsch, Warhol. The list goes on and on."
"Garbage, garbage, garbage!" Pierre yelled. "You monkeys should be grateful that you even have thumbs!"
"Are you trying to be obnoxious?" I retorted. "Or does it just ooze out of you?"
"Ha! The lame reply of an unevolved simpleton," he dismissed me with a wave and walked away to insufferably chat up someone else.
"Don't let him get to you," Jan told me. "He's just trying to prove that he's an eccentric artiste."
"Oh, I'm fine. Let's see him save a planet with a sonic screwdriver, some coax cable, and his wits."
Jan chuckled and leaned back to prepare for the hyperjump.
With an electronic whine, the jump engines engaged. For just a moment, even though I felt like my back was leaning against the seat, my stomach was in the far wall, my teeth were in the wall in front of me, and my ankles were somewhere back on Hacknor.
Reality turned red, then snapped back into place and I looked around. Everyone was gasping and looking around surprised themselves. I looked at Jan and she said "That was not supposed to happen."
"Tell me about it," I said back to her. We both got up and looked up and down the aisles, everyone looked agitated but OK.
"The cockpit," Jan looked at me. "We have to check out the crew."
We made our way to the front when I stopped and looked at the artist on the deck. He had a quarter-sized hole in his chest and he wasn't moving. Jan saw him, too.
"He's not breathing!" Jan said with her ear against his chest. "He's dead."
"Looks like Lucky Pierre isn't so lucky," I said grimly.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
All Aboard the Orion Express
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 07:57
Labels: Orion Express
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9 comments:
if your rude the universe will get you
is that he moral to this story?
Hey maybe that WAS supposed to happen.
Story has started out right as far as i am concerned, except that the insufferable mongoloid owed me 200 credits I'll never see.
Aww, I'm going to miss that litte faux-frog. Then again, maybe not.
Dude, 8 space bucks is 8 space bucks!
I think I know who did it!
well....it was lucky for everyone else...
Oh No! Pee air is gone, no longer will we feel the spray of his dry wit...wait that's a crappy metaphor...I'll have to get back to on the whole distressed over Pee Air's death.
I had a premonition about all that last night. You should have consulted the Orbs.
His " art" was strange any way he made a statue that looked like a snowman if this is art My son made art a six!
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