Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Novel, II

Brick rubbed his eyes, and squinted at the martini glasses on the table before him. They shook a bit, and the room spun around them. He rubbed his eyes once again, and the room steadied. It was just the glasses moving.

"Um.." He was about to ask a question, but Dr. Spaulding beat him to it.

"That's my latest invention. It's an automechanical waiter!"

"Ah."

The glasses disappeared into the cavernous recesses of the machine, and a faint shattering noise resulted. Several fresh martinis were produced from another mysterious orifice, and were set down on the table.

"I think that's enough for me, actually," Brick said. He tossed another down to steady the room once again, and drew his firearm. He field-stripped it, and gave it a good once over. Once he had put it all back together, he fired a round through the window at a horrible face that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"Maybe we should order some Molotov's." He quipped.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Would you consider doing restaurant reviews? The world wants to know where we should eat and where the chef spits in our martinis...