Cosmo Quirkle came through the terminal today, and, as usual, had his nano-generator turned on “crisp.” This caused most of the other thru-trekkers in the building to begin to float off the floor so slightly that many didn’t notice for a few minutes. But several tried to turn to the left or right (or to the schmeel or cronk if they were Grallian) and ended up bonking into each other or into the gerber machine or into the shorm-glass windows. When this began to happen to the travelers en masse, I looked his way and raised my eyebrows. This usually does the trick, but Cosmo was in one of his moods and merely tittered in the corner, trying to hide behind the ‘graph booth. Jess, however, was in no mood for his self-aggrandizing comedic frivolities, and stalked over to the inner wall. Reaching behind the machine, she found one of his rather prodigious ears and pinched it hard between one of her long, thin fingers and her rather powerful thumb. Dragging him out to the tune of “Ow ow ow ow ow ow OW!” she pulled him across the floor and threw him into the nearest tesser tube. Punching in several destinations, she punched the ‘send’ button and with a plethora of sparkling blue tube-rays, he went on whatever pinball-crazy journey she had decided upon, pardon the dangling preposition. I could only smile as she passed me with a satisfied smirk. “Your preposition is dangling,” she said with a smirk. ‘How the hell does she DO that?’ was all I could think as the travellers all regained their feeting. “NOW who’s the Merry Prankster, Quirkle?” she muttered as she knocked through the doors to the beast paddocks. “That’s my Jess,” I said proudly to no one in particular.
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Cosmo Quirkle came through the terminal today, and, as usual, had his nano-generator turned on “crisp.” This caused most of the other thru-trekkers in the building to begin to float off the floor so slightly that many didn’t notice for a few minutes. But several tried to turn to the left or right (or to the schmeel or cronk if they were Grallian) and ended up bonking into each other or into the gerber machine or into the shorm-glass windows. When this began to happen to the travelers en masse, I looked his way and raised my eyebrows.
This usually does the trick, but Cosmo was in one of his moods and merely tittered in the corner, trying to hide behind the ‘graph booth.
Jess, however, was in no mood for his self-aggrandizing comedic frivolities, and stalked over to the inner wall. Reaching behind the machine, she found one of his rather prodigious ears and pinched it hard between one of her long, thin fingers and her rather powerful thumb. Dragging him out to the tune of
“Ow ow ow ow ow ow OW!”
she pulled him across the floor and threw him into the nearest tesser tube. Punching in several destinations, she punched the ‘send’ button and with a plethora of sparkling blue tube-rays, he went on whatever pinball-crazy journey she had decided upon, pardon the dangling preposition.
I could only smile as she passed me with a satisfied smirk.
“Your preposition is dangling,” she said with a smirk.
‘How the hell does she DO that?’ was all I could think as the travellers all regained their feeting.
“NOW who’s the Merry Prankster, Quirkle?” she muttered as she knocked through the doors to the beast paddocks.
“That’s my Jess,” I said proudly to no one in particular.
Jess jest doan put up with no shenanigans.
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