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A day on Mars is about one half hour longer than our terrestrial counterpart. But that don't mean they tacked on another hour at 12am. Mars watches look like Earth watches. Each day has twenty four hours. And every hour has sixty minutes. What they done was stretch all them seconds a little. Nobody minds. It fits. It works, 'cept during athletic competitions. Then they gotta stipulate Mars time, or Earth time. But folks out here is used to it. Know what they actually do wit that extra half hour? They spends it sleepin.' 'Siesta,' what they call it. An' after lunch, ev'rybody jus' be sawin' wood. But seein' as we don't all eat lunch at the same time, the practice is real easy to stick to.
Service this mornin' was real nice. Them purdy tank-limos all lined up out back. Folks all dressed up like for a real concervative weddin' or somethin.' Miss Sissie had Teacher Davis read the liturgy from the Pittsburgh Platform Prayer book. Ev'rybody say the 'Magnified and Sanctified's' all together. Mister Hobart got a preacher from the church out by the Walgreen. Miss Monica wrote a speech for one a her theater friends to read. First she was gonna oversee the whole thing. Do a big production, kind a like Thornton Wilder's 'Our Town,' but then she start ruminatin' on all that money and she figure no need a stick cactus spines up the old bastid's ass. So she put her hatred in another place an' jus' make widow-eyes at ev'rybody.
Law say folks can plant departed goomers on family land. Provided, that is, you got family land. Flower boxes on condo balconies do not count, 'cept maybe if you had the goomer all burned up (after death, I mean). They do got cemeteries and crypt parks runnin' 'round out here. But folks like the Texacos sticks to them old ways. All of 'em line up wit a silver garden trough full a dirt. Take they turn dumpin' it on top a the casket. Miss Monica pick out the burnished, gold egg variety. She see it once on a reconstituted hologram from the old days. Some European noblebitch, name Lady GaGa had herself carried 'round in one when she went like out to dinner. Alec's was a might longer and a bit more opaque. Look a little bit like a big, ole, fat cigar case. I don't know how they knowed which side was up an' which side was down. Stinker Jones appear to be thinkin' the same thing, 'cause we all see him lookin' at it. But it hard to tell. Maybe he jus' wanna see the dead body. Maybe he jus' wanna know how they did it. Paid good money for it, after all.
Zeb (Alec's brother) go 'round shakin' hands wit all the folks. He the one gonna be a senator, you know. Miss Sissie thankin' ev'rybody for comin'. Miss India settin' wit her lady friends from that 'Trooper' organization. Bart appraisin' all the goomers and figurin' out who need killin' and who don't need killin'. Them kids, Davey and Alec's two, wander off to see the horses. Folks drift inside and upstairs to shuck down for the swimmin' and barbecuin' part a the festivities. Tuva-Tuva gals handin' out towels and special, little souvenir soaps. They got whole mess a bafrooms and toilets in this house, so there not gonna be too much waitin'. Caterers commence to throwin' on all the meat. Bartenders servin' up all them bourbon and branch waters. They got special beverages for the ladies. Not that they weaker, jus' sweeter.
If you look up at the sky, sun gonna be little smaller than it be from Earth. Clouds all got that deep orange, Mars tinge 'round they edges. Whitey up there exercisin' a few a them sky-ponies. That jus' for show. Bart like the way it look. An' Whitey know to keep 'em off to the side, so they don't drop no turds on nobody.
But he also know somethin' else. Folks gonna find out 'bout it soon enough. Right after they all get good and lickered up. Right after them bellies all blowed up wit meat. Give 'em time to lay down by the pool. Excuse me, 'cement pond' them rich folks all calls it.
Give it time. Jus' give it time. That new purchase he make in town gone come in mighty handy.....
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Service this mornin' was real nice. Them purdy tank-limos all lined up out back. Folks all dressed up like for a real concervative weddin' or somethin.' Miss Sissie had Teacher Davis read the liturgy from the Pittsburgh Platform Prayer book. Ev'rybody say the 'Magnified and Sanctified's' all together. Mister Hobart got a preacher from the church out by the Walgreen. Miss Monica wrote a speech for one a her theater friends to read. First she was gonna oversee the whole thing. Do a big production, kind a like Thornton Wilder's 'Our Town,' but then she start ruminatin' on all that money and she figure no need a stick cactus spines up the old bastid's ass. So she put her hatred in another place an' jus' make widow-eyes at ev'rybody.
Law say folks can plant departed goomers on family land. Provided, that is, you got family land. Flower boxes on condo balconies do not count, 'cept maybe if you had the goomer all burned up (after death, I mean). They do got cemeteries and crypt parks runnin' 'round out here. But folks like the Texacos sticks to them old ways. All of 'em line up wit a silver garden trough full a dirt. Take they turn dumpin' it on top a the casket. Miss Monica pick out the burnished, gold egg variety. She see it once on a reconstituted hologram from the old days. Some European noblebitch, name Lady GaGa had herself carried 'round in one when she went like out to dinner. Alec's was a might longer and a bit more opaque. Look a little bit like a big, ole, fat cigar case. I don't know how they knowed which side was up an' which side was down. Stinker Jones appear to be thinkin' the same thing, 'cause we all see him lookin' at it. But it hard to tell. Maybe he jus' wanna see the dead body. Maybe he jus' wanna know how they did it. Paid good money for it, after all.
Zeb (Alec's brother) go 'round shakin' hands wit all the folks. He the one gonna be a senator, you know. Miss Sissie thankin' ev'rybody for comin'. Miss India settin' wit her lady friends from that 'Trooper' organization. Bart appraisin' all the goomers and figurin' out who need killin' and who don't need killin'. Them kids, Davey and Alec's two, wander off to see the horses. Folks drift inside and upstairs to shuck down for the swimmin' and barbecuin' part a the festivities. Tuva-Tuva gals handin' out towels and special, little souvenir soaps. They got whole mess a bafrooms and toilets in this house, so there not gonna be too much waitin'. Caterers commence to throwin' on all the meat. Bartenders servin' up all them bourbon and branch waters. They got special beverages for the ladies. Not that they weaker, jus' sweeter.
If you look up at the sky, sun gonna be little smaller than it be from Earth. Clouds all got that deep orange, Mars tinge 'round they edges. Whitey up there exercisin' a few a them sky-ponies. That jus' for show. Bart like the way it look. An' Whitey know to keep 'em off to the side, so they don't drop no turds on nobody.
But he also know somethin' else. Folks gonna find out 'bout it soon enough. Right after they all get good and lickered up. Right after them bellies all blowed up wit meat. Give 'em time to lay down by the pool. Excuse me, 'cement pond' them rich folks all calls it.
Give it time. Jus' give it time. That new purchase he make in town gone come in mighty handy.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
please click on that SHARE button. please leave a much appreciated COMMENT. thank you.
