I drive an Illuminati (part 1)
“Driving the new Illuminati is like owning your own planet and you will love that new world odor”
Jack’s phone chirps, “Ericka, hey… What’s new?”
Ericka, attempting to use her stern librarian voice, “Where are you Jack? No one has heard a peep from you in weeks.”
“I’m ah, ah, fishing.” “When?” she asks. “209 million on the backside” Ericka knew exactly what Treeder was waiting for. “You are in Canada, right, how long until impact?” “23 seconds” he said. “Ok, well that’s not why I called. Listen Jack, Bob’s really pissed about the finger thing on the T.T.E.”
“It’s not my fault, Rebus just got loose.” Jack had not had a crisis of this magnitude in years and he planned on really milking it. “Can I call you back, Ericka? Here it comes.” Fire burnt across the sky. Day becomes night. And Bam! The earth shook as the meteor blasted its way into the ice covered mountain.
“Can you hear me now?” “Can you hear me now?” Ericka repeated as she walks around the room looking for the perfect spot for temporal reception. Throwing the phone on the floor, “piece of crap”, she falls backwards onto the bed and waits for Treeder to call back.
Simultaneously @ 11 a shadowy hand with fat little fingers sticks a trans-dimensional Postit on the bulletin board next to the jukebox which read:
Found: one light brown finger and one set of keys on an “eye inside a pyramid” keychain.
Ericka’s phone chirps “Jack?”
“No, this is Bob. So, you’ve located Treeder the breeder. Bring him to 11 and don’t be late Ms. Marzel. He and I have some business.”
Don’t be late was the most over used joke amongst the time traveling set, but no one could remember who said it first, or if it had ever been funny, except perhaps for Ms. Marzel, She was known around 11 as the stingy chrono-chronicler and she wouldn’t tell even if she did know unless she could use it to her advantage. And as entropy would have it, Ericka was always late everywhere she went.
“I’m still not exactly sure where he is, Bob. I’ll bring him I promise.”
Jack’s phone chirps, “Ericka, hey… What’s new?”
Ericka, attempting to use her stern librarian voice, “Where are you Jack? No one has heard a peep from you in weeks.”
“I’m ah, ah, fishing.” “When?” she asks. “209 million on the backside” Ericka knew exactly what Treeder was waiting for. “You are in Canada, right, how long until impact?” “23 seconds” he said. “Ok, well that’s not why I called. Listen Jack, Bob’s really pissed about the finger thing on the T.T.E.”
“It’s not my fault, Rebus just got loose.” Jack had not had a crisis of this magnitude in years and he planned on really milking it. “Can I call you back, Ericka? Here it comes.” Fire burnt across the sky. Day becomes night. And Bam! The earth shook as the meteor blasted its way into the ice covered mountain.
“Can you hear me now?” “Can you hear me now?” Ericka repeated as she walks around the room looking for the perfect spot for temporal reception. Throwing the phone on the floor, “piece of crap”, she falls backwards onto the bed and waits for Treeder to call back.
Simultaneously @ 11 a shadowy hand with fat little fingers sticks a trans-dimensional Postit on the bulletin board next to the jukebox which read:
Found: one light brown finger and one set of keys on an “eye inside a pyramid” keychain.
Ericka’s phone chirps “Jack?”
“No, this is Bob. So, you’ve located Treeder the breeder. Bring him to 11 and don’t be late Ms. Marzel. He and I have some business.”
Don’t be late was the most over used joke amongst the time traveling set, but no one could remember who said it first, or if it had ever been funny, except perhaps for Ms. Marzel, She was known around 11 as the stingy chrono-chronicler and she wouldn’t tell even if she did know unless she could use it to her advantage. And as entropy would have it, Ericka was always late everywhere she went.
“I’m still not exactly sure where he is, Bob. I’ll bring him I promise.”
posted by Nicholas Holt at 8:31 PM
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