Astrophysicist, Dr. Spé C. Hedd, paused. She nervously tapped her report on the podium. She looked at us, the science council, and we looked back. She cleared her throat as if to conclude her grave answer. Instead, she repeated herself. “Long ago, our instruments showed us that our solar system is only an atom in a greater universe! Our sun and its circling planets are to some larger cosmos merely the nucleus and electrons of a single atom.”*
Minnie Mouse was done, as in she was absolutely fed up with this shit, all this shit. It is fortunate that she was unarmed, otherwise, she’d be surrounded by freshly shot corpses.
Her eyes were bloodshot. The thick veins obscured her pupils. You would think this is why she avoided sunlight, but the real reason was, it made her look eight to nine years older. She was fully conscious of how her flaring nostrils revealed a murder of crows’ feet around her eyes. Vanity has its price.
At the risk of inappropriate heavy handed foreshadowing, Deathy McDeatherman was attempting to eat a very dry ham sandwich on almost stale white bread. It was, as expected, bland. It needed something, a chicken taco. He took a long sip of overly carbonated cola through a soggy paper straw. He almost snorted something out of his nose, something big enough to have killed him. If he had known the imminent death he avoided, he would be grateful, instead he was merely annoyed and hungry for something else.
The new Anita Mann was in full swing. Gone was her old scripted stodgy self, and in was her new spontaneous and youthful self. No one had the heart to tell her it sucked, so she went with it, full on.