“Predisposed influence transfer code without talent.” Snake speaks a voice command to the on board navigation computer. The computer tries to find a sector. “Couda Draconis the tail of the Dragon. “ “ah lizard space, not good! They never were big into sharing those crapy rocks they mine out there, the pale one may negotiate a in for outsiders. “ Over stimulation has brought this to bare. Hyper competitive leans one way or the other. The five smartest people I know milk the magic cow tell what, no more milk and cheese.
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“You think I’m happy?” “I think you thought you were going to get a house in France, but didn’t. What’s been bugging you?” “Don’t want to be a loser, I want to enjoy my life.” The big ship has plants in it even. The smell is like firmament. Space lizards, space insects. The hidden over lords. What the hell do they want, to stay in the shadows? Back to ancient Earth, they let it go. No friends. Masters of our own destiny. The solar cults. We’re all waiting for something, but we are below help. There’s no accountability. Your playing a video game. A spirit in a video game a world soul crying. The white house lawn is to small to land a space ship there.
Mudd muddles with some scrap electronic equipment trying to use outdated hardware with new syncing crystal each allocated to different moods from his collection of Ruby, Opal, and Jade. It seems ludicrous from both standards. Why can’t you just take the middle road? Moody Mudd slinger who hates life. His journals and attitude along with his preferences all got put into his crystals. His pessimistic philosophy that existentialism is based on saying life is meaningless. The long round of the year mining was wrapped up for the current sector. Mudd and Snake were friends but Snake was content on staring out the window drinking tea.
In the gas of the witch head nebula snake stares out at the purple and green colors. The crystals they’ve been able to mine from the asteroids in what would be the mouth area have many uses including energy and computer memory. The gravity in the ship allows for the crew to stay out in space for as long as they need with out body atrophy. The wild areas of space untamed until the time of regional Barrens, Snake’s usual buyers setting up their space stations edging closer and closer to Earth two, that had two suns.
“Computer put a call in for Mayor Frog, Emerald Pond, Central America, United Nations, Earth,” Geni says to the computer as it searches the directory database. A heavy set black man shows up on the monitor. “Well hello Geni, to what do I owe this pleasure.” “I wanted to ask you if the fish population has recovered there.” “Mayor Frog blows some smoke from his Cuban cigar, “Well that depends on who you know if you catch my drift.” “The mining year was good, but Snake wants to fish even though it’s been prohibited ever since we were on Earth. Something about some books he’s been reading about a tax collector and fishermen that were the wise men of old or something.” “Well the waters here are monitored most of the years after the fish population was wiped out.” “I suppose there still are those who would risk going out on the waters with the right connections, legal or otherwise.” Yeah Snake thinks it’s a right of passage to the ancient times and he would gain good fortune if he were to catch a wild fish.” “Well the legal route does not allow fishing for any reason only purchase of fish for breeding fish farms.” “See what you can do, and don’t mention any of this to Snake, I don’t want to crush his dreams.” “OK, I hope your year was real good for this sort of thing.”
“Best year we ever had,” says Snake. Mudd quietly answers, “that doesn’t mean life is good does it.” “What? Life never gave a shit, it’s is up to us to give a shit about life.” How unfair. Geni was spending time in the ships jacuzzi room watching the planet Earth’s news feed on a monitor attached to the wall. The marriage of Snake and Geni has resulted in no children, by way of things being to hard for to long.
The new unceremonious characters include Snake Cosmic the miner. Don’t ask why he mines, I don’t know, but he does have a space ship. On board the space ship is Geni Snake’s wife, also Mudd the copilot. The two men are talking in the cockpit. “we mine because we don’t fish,” says Snake.
All the while it’s composition not prose for there is no need for it, bold, true! Do you really expect any help from the world of shmucks their TV families aren’t a good estimate of rapid fire hilarity. I myself no better just as trapped as you on this side of the wall. Something got to give like the man who sold the world, the people, the galaxy?
Things flipped upside down. Ton of bricks. Law of art is smoke and wine. “I think reactionary thing is good at times, says TV.” “Lost some of my perspective,” says guitar. About out of money, four more sentences. “I don’t know how to meditate anymore.” My virtual life sucks like the art of living. Sometimes real but mostly fake. Let me guess how another thing works, privilege and follow the leader.
The master is very unpleased. “Who,” says Matt. Don’t drink from the river. What else would I call myself. Deep breath, I already did my hundred days in the pig pen get my drift. “Three times for me a lot more for you Jack hole, Yeah well, Jr says. thought I can bake pizzas with sister for work.” That is as bad as it gets, but for me I’m fighting with the toilet. Boy the seat is really on there. I want to start calling in favors. Oh that’s not how it works, bullshit! Next thing I’ll tell you next the fridge will turn on me. First we get the sugar, then we put it in the coffee, then we drink the coffee. What’s that worth I’d give you money to paint. Yeah paint, “I hated that place.“ “No shit Brothers right.” All married but me.
