“Mankind has taken nature and created rubbish…
Trash…and big piles of it…
And all this junk has proven to be both our legacy and now, our greatest enemy.”
– Dr. Quincy Sterieaux, during the Earth Evacuation Conference
Contorting, twisting, shredded bits of flesh and brick and mortar all exploding out into eternity, all erupting from one lonely little brick wall and there also was my contorting, twisting body along with it, and all in slow motion, and also in hi-def 3D…
And then I landed in a ditch left from some other projectile missile, launched in some other time, ruins from some other war…
Had I been fighting?
RokBott10o kept his jets on 100%, fire streaming out of his packs, creating a smoke tail that lingered, slowly dissipating into what was left of Earth’s thin atmosphere.
His infrared vision had Zombeatnik locked in its sights, and scanners were beginning the process of evaluating his molecular make-up.
If there were traces of any psychedelic drugs in the specimen’s system, RokBott would know he was on the right track..
Yes, this whole saga would be much different if not for one plastic grocery bag that got stuck in RokBott’s left intake valve, stalling the Bott just enough to allow the torpedo to score a direct hit.
The ancient man grunted.
. The ancient man hadn’t seen RokBott10o coming at all.
So when he saw the strange, fire-propelled being soar past and devour the jellyfish without even stopping to savor the victory, Grok kinda lost his shit for a minute..
My last memory was being a numb, throbbing ball of pure energy.
I felt my pineal gland wink open. I could feel the stream flowing, coming and going freely.
I remember leaving my body and looking at it, a mangled heap of bone and flesh.
RokBott10o came equipped with first aid and CPR software’s standard, of course, so the bott lost no time in trying to resuscitate the poor humanoid.
Now Grok grunted, mystified.
He noticed some fuzzy looking balls of light hovering close by, like stars that hung down underneath the clouds.
Grok was well accustomed to reading the stars. He had never seen the likes of these.
They had faces too, like the moon.
I saw Shoshanna.
She was a fuzzy ball of white light, her face smiled radiant.
She motioned for me to come towards her, towards the heavens.
I looked back one last time at my old self and saw another fuzzy white ball floating towards my body.
I didn’t recognize it’s barbaric looking face.
He shouted out to them.
The closer orb hovered back down to the pile of rubble and spoke to the ancient man.
“GRAZK KRGLL GROK. GHRAL ZOMBEATNIK”
RokBott smoked a joint in .024 seconds and exhaled a ghostlike haze, mingling then with the smoke and fumes from the crash, and seemed to mellow everything out, if only ever-so-slightly.
Though strangely phrased, the ancient man understood the essence of the fuzzy ball of light’s message. The orb of light had said that he meant no harm to Grok. He said that his name was Zombeatnik.
“Grok hrgh yrak dha ghrakk rokrawl…”
He wanted to know who the fire-breathing warrior was and how to catch those strange jellyfish.
Rok held Zombeatnik’s head, tipped back; airways open, waiting for signs of life to appear. If he had known of the irony of his current situation, trying to revive a zombie, RokBott may have chosen a different track to spin, say “Novacane” off the same album…more angst…or maybe Bad Brains…all the stress was affecting his music selections…static was messing up his signals.
Anyways, RokBott hadn’t felt a pulse.
He had electromagnetic pulse hardware built into his turntable torso, as all Bottco. botts did, all standard.
The voice of my love distracted my attention away from the ancient man’s jellyfish riddle. With a beautiful wisp, her light pulsed out from itself like silk smoking out from a bonfire. She wrapped herself around my soul and drew me in, embracing me…penetrating every photon of my being.
Grok watched this supernatural, cosmic firework light show and felt himself tremble with cosmic awe.
RokBott10o flipped the switch and send shockwaves pulsing through Zombeatnik’s poor, decrepit body.
For whatever reason, I was pulled back in through my third eye. I wish my little fuzzy ball of energy could have gone somewhere, anywhere else than back inside this rotten skull.
Is this perpetual hell?
“To transcend hell, one must dig.”
Cedric’s ego rarely grabbed hold of his own words…these seemed prophetic…of some use to someone.
Troubadour winds, indeed…