(from Exercise #4)
Spaceships waited in line for the .99 cent triple cheeseburger value meal.
“Oh boy oh boy! I knew we could get to Uranus in time for their Tuesday value specials.”
“That’s the great thing about traveling to loser planets that have longer days.”
The sisters, Sophia and Not-Sophia, frantically stuffed themselves with lumps of chocolate enamels they had purchased on the
cheap-cheap in Neptune—in their minds, another of the Milky Way’s “loser planets”. The zit-faced girls, only eighty years of age, were swimming in the hot cocoa-y midst of a galatically gigantic sugar rush binge. Mommy and Daddy had gotten paid on Friday—Friday back on their home planet of Farfaluten that is. The girls, ever rapacious like their gelatinous, seemingly bottomless stomachs, were painting the galaxies red with the trail of burgundy vapor from their sleek, methane-powered sporty go-go ship.
Sophia peered over at the methane level on the front console.
“The levels are a little low, Not-Sophia. You want to lay into the acceleration incinerator?”
“Just pass it here,” she responded.
Sophia hit the release button on the acceleration incinerator’s hose griplock and turned in her ergonomically-peerless comfort seat. Not-Sophia managed to extend her arm from her jiggle-flabby body to firmly grip the hose that was attached behind Sophia’s seat. The hose, which had a siphon-like end that looked as if it were meant to breathe through, was connected to a silver dome between their seats. That dome led to the acceleration incinerator, a crafty contraption that safely burned methane and then exponentially multiplied and focused its energy properties into propelling the go-go ship at light speeds through the Universe.
Sophia snapped the hose into the opening behind her seat, which led to an opening in her seat around the rectal area. She clenched her eyes, shoved her thumb into her mouth and gave a half-minute fart that made her body tremble, her body fat jiggle within her airtight pink Why Hello Hello Kitty! suit for the two minutes they waited to meter up to the drive-thru window. When her body ceased jiggling, her cheeks were still flush from exertion, her eyes fancy-dancey from the reverberations and sugar binge.
“That should be enough to get us back home,” Not-Sophia commented.
“Huh huh, I think the gruel hamsters we had for breakfast made me gasy!” she replied, her mouth foaming at the thought of an octology of .99 triple cheeseburgers and some moonshag (a white moon-shaped candy made of the Universe’s finest sugar—a concentrated compound for the rich that gave anyone who ate them a sensation of synthetic orgasm) for the ride home.
“Bog they were good!”
“Yeah they were!”
“Let’s get some more!!”
“Let’s!!”
The sisters laughed and laughed over the voice of the dark-skinned drive-thru attendant as he asked them what they wanted to order.
“Where’s the moonshag?” Not-Sophia asked.
“Oh crud, we’re out. I just remembered that I finished the last lump when we entered the Milky Way," Sophia said.
“I don’t remember that. I don’t remember that at all.”
The sisters teetered and laughed, the fat from their necks and cheeks rolling like saline waves.
“Well let’s get some more!” Sophia said, her eyes bulging out from their sockets, her teeth clenched.
“Yes!! YES!!”
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