They been in the bunker 'bout three days now. Ev'rybody all settled it. Miss Sissie actually like it. This her place. This her home, or part of it. She got a kitchen. And it not full a all them 'foody-food-food' machines what do the job automatically. Y'all gotta stir the batter if you want any pancakes 'round here. Right now she practicin'. She practicin' makin' her Pascal bread..... Sort a like a little, dried up crepe. It not hard. She gonna do it for The Feast a The Lord's Passover...... 'This is the bread of haste'.....That what He said. That what God said. Means you all gone go 'gook' soon. 'Gook' mean that l'il, 'lectric sound 'puters make when you shut 'em down. It what them 'Troopers' say for 'die.' Nobody kicks no bucket 'round here. They just 'go gook.' Rhymes with 'cook,' if you tryin' a figure it out.
What God want 'em a know is ----- Y'all better do lots a real, good, lovin' stuff now, if you wanna move in with Me later........ That's what He sayin', if you payin' 'tention........ An' Miss Sissie sure do pay attention. Sometime, when she got The Lord hinky-dink real bad she go 'round tellin' folk - He save your soul for a reason! He take you outta Egypt for a reason! Now what you gone do about it!?....... Then she stand there lookin' at you, like she God's sec'etary or somethin'. An' all this interplanetary fuedin' gone on startin' a get to her.
Sometime she talk 'bout Earth. Say she wanna go there. She wanna live there. Not jus' her. She wanna take all of 'em back wit her. Bart say what they gone do 'bout they Martian hearts? 'Cause, you know, they all born here. They got the bones too. Got them Martian bones. That why they all a few inches taller (than Earth folk, I mean). Sure, some folks does it. Take a lot a therapy. Gotta put stem cells in the heart muscle. Gotta mortar up them bones wit a lot a calcium. Gotta get used to pullin' 'round three times the load. Earth got that heavy pull. It not like the gravity we got 'round here.
Them soldiers from The Empire a China startin' a feel that now. Bones gettin' all jellyfied. Muscles goin' all stringy. Oh, they do got remedies. But the whole experience still tend to be real disorientin'. It like plantin' a cactus in swamp water, then yellin' that it ain't growed right. Space do got it's rules.
I can't 'magine them goomers out on Europa, livin' in them 'pods' out on the ice. They do not penetrate under that frigid crust. They do not go down to where them manta ray people live. Robot/android goomers does that. All them science goomers does is keep ev'rything runnin' right...wind the clocks, if you know what I mean. And then, when they look out into the sky-what-ain't-no-sky, they sees Jupiter, loomin' up there like a big, ole monster beach ball. That gotta sour your grits.
But hoomin beans funny that way. Some pay good money a tote theyselves out here on honeymoons . Bart and Miss Sissie did, back in the day. Shacked up in one a them bubble towns over on the other side. Took a submarine ride down under a see them manta ray goomers. Folks does that. Scientists too. They takes submarine rides. Just ain't no gettin' out and rubbin' noses, if you know what I mean. Them germy-germs we all got jus' too damn different. An' nobody wanna chance no new type a 'mushy fever.'
Sure hope that sucker Miss Monica got in her belly grow up right. Sure hope they finds a way to make this place work.
I like Mars. Can't rightly see myself bein' 'voice a the lonesome pines' nowhere's else.....
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
please hit the SHARE button. please leave a COMMENT. thank you.... oh, and of course you know this part of a long story, so y'all might wanna scroll back a ways. Learn yourself what a 'hinky-dink' is and what actually growin' inside a Miss Monica's belly...
What God want 'em a know is ----- Y'all better do lots a real, good, lovin' stuff now, if you wanna move in with Me later........ That's what He sayin', if you payin' 'tention........ An' Miss Sissie sure do pay attention. Sometime, when she got The Lord hinky-dink real bad she go 'round tellin' folk - He save your soul for a reason! He take you outta Egypt for a reason! Now what you gone do about it!?....... Then she stand there lookin' at you, like she God's sec'etary or somethin'. An' all this interplanetary fuedin' gone on startin' a get to her.
Sometime she talk 'bout Earth. Say she wanna go there. She wanna live there. Not jus' her. She wanna take all of 'em back wit her. Bart say what they gone do 'bout they Martian hearts? 'Cause, you know, they all born here. They got the bones too. Got them Martian bones. That why they all a few inches taller (than Earth folk, I mean). Sure, some folks does it. Take a lot a therapy. Gotta put stem cells in the heart muscle. Gotta mortar up them bones wit a lot a calcium. Gotta get used to pullin' 'round three times the load. Earth got that heavy pull. It not like the gravity we got 'round here.
Them soldiers from The Empire a China startin' a feel that now. Bones gettin' all jellyfied. Muscles goin' all stringy. Oh, they do got remedies. But the whole experience still tend to be real disorientin'. It like plantin' a cactus in swamp water, then yellin' that it ain't growed right. Space do got it's rules.
I can't 'magine them goomers out on Europa, livin' in them 'pods' out on the ice. They do not penetrate under that frigid crust. They do not go down to where them manta ray people live. Robot/android goomers does that. All them science goomers does is keep ev'rything runnin' right...wind the clocks, if you know what I mean. And then, when they look out into the sky-what-ain't-no-sky, they sees Jupiter, loomin' up there like a big, ole monster beach ball. That gotta sour your grits.
But hoomin beans funny that way. Some pay good money a tote theyselves out here on honeymoons . Bart and Miss Sissie did, back in the day. Shacked up in one a them bubble towns over on the other side. Took a submarine ride down under a see them manta ray goomers. Folks does that. Scientists too. They takes submarine rides. Just ain't no gettin' out and rubbin' noses, if you know what I mean. Them germy-germs we all got jus' too damn different. An' nobody wanna chance no new type a 'mushy fever.'
Sure hope that sucker Miss Monica got in her belly grow up right. Sure hope they finds a way to make this place work.
I like Mars. Can't rightly see myself bein' 'voice a the lonesome pines' nowhere's else.....
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
please hit the SHARE button. please leave a COMMENT. thank you.... oh, and of course you know this part of a long story, so y'all might wanna scroll back a ways. Learn yourself what a 'hinky-dink' is and what actually growin' inside a Miss Monica's belly...