Tree Surgeons in Detroit (28-30 salts)
The set of circumstances could not have been predicted by any ordinary methods. This was disgusting. This was demoralizing. This lacked happiness. Mike Stevenson, affectionately known as "Doobie Dan," wore his usual dark aviator sunglasses and mustache, both items effectively hiding any emotion he might be having. Terrence McCreedy, sitting in the back seat and reading Time magazine, was glancing up more often than usual and had a nervous trickle of sweat in his nose crease. The driver, Brandle Christmas, was close to the steering wheel, and gesturing towards some cookies in the console.
"This is just like Jacob's Ladder." Said Mike. He referred to this movie often, and many times had said that it was about him, that all of that shit happened to him in 'Nam, and that the demons were after him.
"Who the fuck are you guys?" He asked suddenly while leaning against the window, ready to blast everyone if needed.
"Just take it easy Mike, we'll get there soon." Brandle said with a mouthful of not so fresh cookies.
Where they were going none of them knew. When the church bell tolls, wherever and however, they knew they'd be there. That was what they were told. What they actually found was that very few trees existed in the modern Detroit, and the few that did would be too dangerous to service. It had been said, in the Time magazine that Terrence was reading, that 98% of all outdoor service workers in the city had been robbed of all of there equipment at least once in the past year. This statistic made Mike nervous and he drank warm whiskey.
"Dammit Mike, that's exactly the kind of shit that gets you fucked up here." Brandle scolded and Terrence nodded his head.
"I'm supposed to take your advice? A Commie robot with an optional chainsaw attachment? Optical sensor waiting to sense my presence and obsessively circle my head?"
Indeed, that was the case. Brindle was a robot purchased from the former Soviet satellite nation of Georgia, used initially for plutonium transport and implementation. He was later sold and released into the general public. Ever since being released, he'd suffered from a philosophical paralysis - an unexpected consequence of android technology. He thought too much and never could attain his rated production capacity.
Of course now, their differences aside, the three of them had to find a way to survive Detroit. The sun was setting and their items included only the standard tree pruning equipment. They were driving deeper into the city and might very likely have to stay at a Travel Lodge, by reputation the most dangerous of motels. They didn't know where they were and all they wanted to find was a grove of trees away from the rusting decay. Just then, Mike pointed out an actual pile of rusting decay and several men pillaging it. They felt their hopes dwindle.
"This is just like Jacob's Ladder." Said Mike. He referred to this movie often, and many times had said that it was about him, that all of that shit happened to him in 'Nam, and that the demons were after him.
"Who the fuck are you guys?" He asked suddenly while leaning against the window, ready to blast everyone if needed.
"Just take it easy Mike, we'll get there soon." Brandle said with a mouthful of not so fresh cookies.
Where they were going none of them knew. When the church bell tolls, wherever and however, they knew they'd be there. That was what they were told. What they actually found was that very few trees existed in the modern Detroit, and the few that did would be too dangerous to service. It had been said, in the Time magazine that Terrence was reading, that 98% of all outdoor service workers in the city had been robbed of all of there equipment at least once in the past year. This statistic made Mike nervous and he drank warm whiskey.
"Dammit Mike, that's exactly the kind of shit that gets you fucked up here." Brandle scolded and Terrence nodded his head.
"I'm supposed to take your advice? A Commie robot with an optional chainsaw attachment? Optical sensor waiting to sense my presence and obsessively circle my head?"
Indeed, that was the case. Brindle was a robot purchased from the former Soviet satellite nation of Georgia, used initially for plutonium transport and implementation. He was later sold and released into the general public. Ever since being released, he'd suffered from a philosophical paralysis - an unexpected consequence of android technology. He thought too much and never could attain his rated production capacity.
Of course now, their differences aside, the three of them had to find a way to survive Detroit. The sun was setting and their items included only the standard tree pruning equipment. They were driving deeper into the city and might very likely have to stay at a Travel Lodge, by reputation the most dangerous of motels. They didn't know where they were and all they wanted to find was a grove of trees away from the rusting decay. Just then, Mike pointed out an actual pile of rusting decay and several men pillaging it. They felt their hopes dwindle.
Labels: fortitude, migraines, showdown at the marquis, superman dreams, vinegar contest, winner takes it all
posted by fiestawizard at 10:12 AM
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