Monday, November 15, 2010

Even My Fantasies Don't Work Out

"Oh no," Allison Mack said, "someone's blocked the door to my house with all these bottles of chocolate milk!"

"Don't worry," I called out, "I'm here to save you!"

"Who are you, mysterious stranger?" she asked, already starting to love me with her eyes.

"I am none other than Future Boyfriend Man, sent here from The Future to take care of you."

"Like in The Terminator?"

"Exactly like that! Our child is destined to be the savior of all mankind."

"Before we make sweet, passionate love that's not afraid to get energetic, tell me - what threat will we face?"

"Umm. It's squid. Giant squid. Land squid!"

"That sounds horrible." She paused, her nose wrinkling. "Wait, how do squid live on land?"

"They're...they're also vampires."

"Oh," she said. She squinted. "That doesn't answer my question."

"Well, uh, vampires don't breathe. So the squid can be on land and not drown. Drown? Is that the right word? 'cause they breathe water, so they can't drown drown, but you know what I mean."


"Yes! That's it. Suffocate."

We stared at each other for a moment.

"That doesn't make any sense," she said. "How do they move around on land? They don't have a skeletal system to support that kind of locomotion. And if they're so big, and they're vampires, how do they hide during the day?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're asking so many little questions that you're missing the big issue. My world is a burning wasteland! Mankind has been reduced to slavery, forced to fight in the arena for our squid overlord's amusement."

"Why did the squid burn everything?"

"Arg! Can you not get past this one thing!? Squid bad. Future ruined. Us baby. What more do you need from me?"

Suddenly, a van drove up and three large orderlies emerged from it.

"We're sorry Ms. Mack," the driver said as he stepped out, "this one got loose again. He's real troubled, but not violent. Says he's a time traveller from the future and he has to have your baby."

"He has to have my baby? You mean he's going to carry it to term?"

"No," the driver said, "he wants to impregnate you, and then you'll have his baby."

"Wouldn't it be our baby?" Allison asked.

The driver's mouth hung open while the orderlies grabbed me. "Is that really important, ma'am?" he finally asked.

I turned to him. "I know, right? You should have heard her earlier. It's 20 questions with this one."

"Look!" she shouted. "Strange men keep showing up in my front yard, and I'm entitled to some answers. Like how the hell did all this chocolate milk get here?"

A milk truck pulled to the curb and hastily parked behind the van. A bespectacled man jumped out, the buttons on his overalls jingling.

"Oh, I knew I had the wrong address," he said when he saw all the milk. He wrung his hands. "I hope it's not all gone bad."

"Why did you deliver the milk to my house?" Allison asked, turning to him

The driver and I rolled our eyes at the same time.

"Me oh my," the milkman said, "I thought it was a six instead of a nine. The Johnsons'll sure be sore when they don't have their morning milk!"

We all chuckled at his folksy speech. Allison stopped laughing and turned to the man.

"How do you confuse a six and a nine without messing up the rest of the numbers? And who needs this much milk for one morning? And what company in this century still delivers milk?"

The milkman's eyes darted left and right before he pulled out a pair of scissors and quickly clipped a lock of Allison's hair. "He ha ho hoooo!" he hollered as he ran to his truck, hair in hand.

One of the orderlies looked at the driver, who nodded. "I'm on it," he said, running after the milkman.

"What do I do with all this milk?" she asked.

The driver sighed. "Lady, I don't care. I'm in the business of apprehending nutjobs, not listening to every damn thought that passes through your pretty blond head."

The other orderly had already subdued the milkman.

"Why is it so hard to find good help these days?" she wondered. The driver stared at her, spit in the yard, and we all turned to go.

I watched her throwing the milk away from a grate in the back of the van.

"I'm just like Sarah Connor!" I shouted as we drove away. "Sarah Connoooooooorrrr..."

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