Dream Alpha Centauri:

Dream Alpha Centauri:

Having pedaled my bicycle for the better part of the day I stopped mid-day to rest at a café called the Diabolical Lounge. This venue operated twenty-four hours a day, six days a week, and it looked homely, even if a bit uncomfortable. I was approached by a gorgeous platinum-haired server who told me that she recognized my bicycle. I was about to leave in fear when she sat down cajolingly and told me that she was an Angel. She informed me that Keroplian’s Plan had failed and that the Proprietor had caught on to Saturn’s Scheme. He intended to frame a rival by sending the Product to the Distant Shore, which was where the rival lived.

Together, the Angel and I traveled to the Near Shore. She drove a White Van; my bicycle rested in the back. When we arrived we saw that a fishing vessel was leaving. We had missed our opportunity; that same boat surely carried the contraband. I noticed at this moment that my friend began to phase in and out of existence. She explained that she needed to apprehend the Product because without it she would disappear. As she approached Death I came to realize that she was growing hostile towards me and daemonic in Nature. She explained that once she had been an agent intent on fulfilling Keroplian’s Plans, but that her extended exposure to the Product had made her dependent upon its radiance and upon discovery of this fact the Proprietor made her a slave in his Laboratory. But she escaped. It was only because of her lingering Dependency that she might customarily transform again into one of his zombies; she could only very occasionally see the Light. And it was at this moment that I had an epiphany about the chemical nature of many of my “failed” relationships.

She then observed that one of the deckhands on the vessel was none other than the same old rival. She explained that the Proprietor kept his enemies close, so this made sense. We then noticed that the Captain was Ronald MacDonald. Yet something was off about him. She exclaimed that it was the Proprietor, but disguised as Captain Clown. In moments he opened his jacket to reveal a set of bombs in Joker fashion. He set them off and the vessel sank. My angelic friend told me not to worry. She would not bother to go diving for the Product now. She would ascend. At this moment, she phased out of my Life forever.

As I sat dumbfounded on the shore, bowls of rice and chopsticks floated towards me from the shipwreck. The Rival Deckhand swam towards me. He asked me if he could use my Van. I told him that he could if he could drive me home. He told me that once upon a time it was all that he did for a living. We took our leave of the Near Shore, traveling inland. At some point in the neighbouring woods he withdrew a flame thrower from his pocket, telling me that he would burn Imitatio Christi Industries to the ground. I smiled and awoke.

Dm.A.A.