O l i v e r B e n j a m i n
“Thanks Mary. It’s a new project. Unfortunately, we’re going to
have to expect a lot of weirdos for the next few weeks.” Guy Tama.
The kid couldn’t be clever enough for that one. He picked up the
phone.
“Gareth.”
“Buddha! Babe! What’s up? We’re already hard at work on the
Doomsday project, in case you were wondering.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call it that. How is it coming?”
“Good. I was thinking something along the lines of an epic battle
between man and the gods. Like a giant tug-of-war with a flaming
hell pit in the middle.”
“I thought we agreed on this. No violence.”
“Right. Of course! ‘No violence’ is my middle name.”
“Uh-huh. Listen, the main reason I’m calling is that we need your
help to get that Muchoman fellow back from the void. There’s no
telling what can happen when something disrupts the flow of time
and space at a Dreamtime Locus.
“A what?” said Gareth.
“A Dreamtime Locus. Hard to explain. Though the probabilities
are slim, we can’t afford to take any chances. There’s too much
knowledge out there. We need to get an appliance that will open up a
wormhole in the space-time continuum. Then we can pull him back
through the doorgate.”
Gareth laughed. “I’m sorry, but they don’t make appliances like
that yet. You’re way ahead of us.”
“That’s not true. Many humans have such units in their homes. I
believe they normally use them to dry their clothes.”
“Clothes dryers?”
“Of course. The heat, the static electricity, the centrifugal force. If
they are balanced just right, a hole in the fabric of space and time
opens up.”
“You’re joking.”
“I am not.”
“Is that where my socks and underwear disappears to?”
“Yes,” Gautama laughed, “There is a remote corner of the
Dreamtime filled with undergarments. It explains your
unfathomable obsession with underwear. As well as your mysterious
art form of sock puppetry.”
“And loose change. I must have lost millions over the years.”
“It’s possible.”
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