B: Breakfast Baloney

This is part of a continuous story, so start HERE at A.

Breakfast Baloney

Adam Evans, former member of the human race and the Federation, ate his last meal the following morning in a room the size of a walk-in closet.  He’d finally been given a dingy pair of gray coveralls to wear, but only after several workers filed indecency claims against him.

Though he’d already technically been expelled from existence, he had to wait for his guide.  The guide would take him out to an uninhabited sector of the galaxy, explain the rules, and leave him to die a lonely, miserable death.

The meal was merely a courtesy to keep him quiet.  Unfortunately, it was composed of flabby, cheap bologna and hard, dry biscuits.  No good food would be wasted on someone in his situation.

He thought it could get no worse.

So, when a young human woman with hot pink hair that looked far too much like cotton candy bounced into the room with a radiant smile, he smashed his head into the plastic table.  

“Good morning!”  Everything about her oozed cheerfulness as she plopped into a chair across the table from him.  “How are you?”

Adam looked up, his forehead now marred by a red welt.  “Just wonderful.”

She looked intently at him for a long moment.  “Something tells me you may be fibbing a little.”

He glared at her, then raised his hands to toward the unfashionable stucco ceiling.  “Please kill me,” he implored to the universe.

“Don’t be silly,” the young woman said as she smoothed her powder blue mini skirt.  “Magistrate Bibble has already done that.”

Adam covered his face with his hands.  He felt an awful headache coming on.  “Please don’t tell me you’re my guide.”

“Don’t be silly!”

He heaved a sigh of relief.  “Thank goodness for that.”

“Of course I’m not going to tell you something that isn’t true!  That would be ridiculous,” the girl continued.  “I may be your guide, but you don’t need to use any formal titles with me.  You can just call me Ditz.”

Adam would have laughed if the whole of the universe weren’t currently punching him in the gut.  “That’s an appropriate name.”

“Thank you!  That’s what my mother used to say.”

Wow, Adam thought.  Where did they find someone this dense?  She makes solitude seem appealing.

“Anyway, you’re lucky,” Ditz said conversationally.  “The Magistrate could have decided to kill you.  He had several people launched into the sun last week.  The Federation hates to make decisions like this, but if we didn’t have order, we’d have nothing.  That’s why it’s important you follow the rules I give you.”

Okay.  A side dish of baloney to go with my bologna, Adam thought bitterly.

Ditz stood up.  “We’ll go over the rules on the ship.  First, I need to take you to medical to get your chemical castration done.”

Adam nearly fell out of his chair.  “What?”  His voice came out two octaves too high.


Proceed to entry C.