We peer out at the blank, barren landscape. Having landed, we’re not sure where we are. Or for that matter, ‘when’ we are. That’s the problem if you borrow the Professor’s Special Space Machine without asking.
But she’d shown it to us, tempted us. That’s the problem with having someone like the Professor coaching you for entry to the Space Academy.
But hold on, who’s that up ahead? Look, she’s waving.
We hurry forward into the bleak barrenness, but before we reach her, there is an ear-splitting sound. Everything goes black.
Later, when we come round, we are strapped into hard, upright seats facing a large spherical console. The Professor is standing opposite us.
We start to speak, but she holds up her hand for silence. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted to join the Space Academy, but I’m afraid the Great Zyborgatron has other plans.” She smiles weakly. “He did grant me one last request, however.”
Plates of burgers and chips materialize before us. We look at her; what did she say?
“Well go on,” she urges, indicating the food.
We eat. We devour the lot. It’s the best burger and chips we’ve ever had.
Then everything goes black.
Written in response to The Haunted Wordsmith’s ‘Main March Madness‘