Teefury

I’d been working on another piece at the time. A failure that wasn’t going anywhere in particular and had been frustrating me for days. My drinking  wasn’t helping, and the thugs I’d beaten up earlier that day for wearing pants an unseasonal shade of brown hadn’t made me feel any better either. I was just about to throw it all in, buy a one way ticket to a quiet town where no-one knew my name or needed me to solve their problems, when She walked into the room. She was a good idea wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in an Armani Exchange overcoat. Blowing cigarette smoke intot he air around her and carrying a martini on the tips of her fingers, she stood in the doorway and breathlessly whispered one short, simple word. “Shiny”. With that she was gone, leaving behind the wafting aroma of sweet tobacco and a word, a single word looking for a context. A meaning. A reason to be. Three hours later, “Shiny” was finished, and I was back at the drawing board, staring blankly at a sheet of crisp white paper, waiting for the next idea to show her face. I’m still waiting…

 

I live in a 1 bedroom shack inside Colonel Sanders head. 37°38'47.40"N, 115°45'1.27"W

 

Between 9:23am and 9.24am, last Tuesday morning. I shocked myself, frankly. Will never happen again. 8 long years I prepared for that one, wild, adventurous minute. Most amazing 60 seconds ever.  9.25am was a total bummer in comparison.

 

It’s either “You have two ears and one mouth for a reason” or “Sir! Put that thing down and there won’t be any trouble!”

 

Da da daaa daaa da, da DA! Da dada dada daaaa, da dada dada daaa dannnnaaa! Oweeeeeeeeee ow wuuuuuu, Oweeeeee ow woooo! DUNNN DAAAAAA!

 

It’s the insight it gives me into what the world will be like 300 years from now when they defrost my body after I have that accident with an industrial refrigerator my psychic warned me about.

 

Astrophysicists would win, because a meeting between Han and Mal would cause the Universe to collapse in on itself and reveal the birth of a newer and even more bizarre Universe, revealing once and for all how this whole mess happened in the first place.

 

It’s name is Stavros. It insists it’s a sentient lifeform from a planet in the Pleiades and must address the United Nations with a dire warning about something or other.

It’s blue, doesn’t fit very well and won’t shut up.

 

I’d love to work on building the Death Star Mk III. It would be used for good though, but still called the Death Star. We’d tour the Galaxy, terrorizing worlds into thinking we’re about to blow them up, then at the last moment as they beg to live we’d tell them “That’s how close to death you are every day because of your bad diet! Cholesterol is a killer! Eat less junkfood and eat more fruit and nuts for a happier and healthier Empire!” We’d give out billions of bumper stickers and free tshirts and move on to the next world.

 

Superman, Aristotle and the Portuguese.