It wasn't easy being the moon. Drearily, continuously orbiting the Earth (as seen from a most common point of view). Being regarded as an ugly chunk of rock, marked and scarred, cold and dead.
Not even being regarded as part of a double planet system no less! Just a silly old moon, bit of leftover garbage from the creation of Earth. One day the universe would finally see things the way the moon did - namely that every body in the universe revolved around it.
Earth! Oh that precious blue jewel...giver of life and all that crap...
The Earthpeople came and what did they do? Grabbed some rocks, drove around in a buggy for a while, and went home. And never came back...
Yes. A bitter, tired, lonely old moon crossed the sky (as seen from a most common point of view). Best able to try and reach out when it shone from light reflected from the sun, (Bloody Sun, Mr Giver of Light and Energy, Bright shining freakin light...) but then the people he tried to befriend just went nuts.
Easier to talk when a living being was on the surface. The moon talked to the astronaughts, who refused to talk about their conversations outside of their inner circle. The talk mainly consisted of cheese, the price of bread and the weather anyway.
Talking to Iggy Pop wasn't too bad. He used colorful language and had interesting anecdotes. Plus he wanted to make a few certain changes as far as the Earth was concerned, changes the moon liked one hell of a lot.
For Pop's arrival the moon had prepared a glass case. With the current lack of water of this moon (or planet) the Moon had no choice but to fill the tank with blessed moon dust. This was no easy feat considering the Moon was an inanimate conglomeration of particles adrift in space. The Moon did have political power though, more so than any living being as was outlined in the principles of the galactic constitution.
McKenzie, Malone and Maloney had banded together as people will in unusual situations. Assassination and the sorting out of the whole "double" issue could wait until they were in a world where these things were not hindered by ethereal laws.
They followed Nedi through endless corridors. Past doors labeled only with names, names in no discernable order. Not alphabetic, not by date of death, it was a very feebly constructed system of afterlife soul storage.
McKenzie noticed a door with the name "David Jones" stenciled on it and wondered. He peeked inside on his way past on noticed it was the blue room he had arrived in. Knowing all about a particular habit of falling into place things did, he could not resist the urge to take the passing of this room as some kind of sign and slipped inside and away from the entourage headed god knew where (and even he probably had no idea)
Ask a man on the street, and he would probably be unable to tell you about the importance of deeply reflecting on the color blue. Done in the right way it leads to a state of Super Heightened Cosmic Oneness that is often fairly amusing.
Here McKenzie sat right down and waited. For what he didn't know.
He reflected on green, yellow, magenta and finally settled on blue when he got his act together. He achieved Oneness, then Cosmic Oneness, next Heightened Cosmic Oneness, and finally Super Heightened Cosmic Oneness just when he was beginning to lose patience.
When there he found himself on a Cosmic Voyage. It only took him as far as mars so it didn't last too long. On the red planet he stood before a gigantic temple made of glass. It was surely macabre because skeletal remains were hung from the floors of this temple, perhaps in warning, perhaps for decoration.
Then McKenzie was inside the temple. A dazzling maze of glass spires, columns and knick knacks. Moving again, the Father was racing upwards at great speed, until he was floating serenely above this temple, miles above the ground. He felt a great pain emanating from this place, a sense of something close to completion yet lost forever. It was choking him all up inside and McKenzie only usually wept during those manipulative tissue commercials.
A tear that had dangled for a while from his chin while he just hung there. This tear broke away from the aforementioned chin like a child leaving it's mother on it's first day at school. The tear fell, changing shape as it made it's way through the thin atmosphere, then splashed on the temple in an almost noble swansong.
Then McKenzie was having a new and novel experience. Suddenly he could hear and see everything that was happening. Everything. Not just a lot of things. Not nearly everything. Not everything on Earth or nearby. Absolutely every song and play of light came to him and presented itself without a care in the universe.
John Tucker ran the Seven-Eleven on Battle Street. Rest assured he had seem some weird things in his day. He?d seen weird boys, weird toys, strange electric irons and a television set he'd never forget as long as he was alive.
He'd never seen talking babies however. Now he had.
The child, could have only been one year of age, demanded diapers as if talking that young was just about the most natural thing on Gods green Earth. When asked for payment the babe just slammed down his used diaper on the counter and contended that this was all he had. Being impressed by a talking baby, as one is sure to be, John saw this as a fair trade. Although how to enter this into his accounts book for his taxes was something to be pondered.
He'd neither had either Hitler nor Stalin in his store before. Now they were both here browsing, keeping a distance from each other, so it was fair to assume that they weren't on talking terms.
In walked Napoleon. Tucker threw his apron on the counter and walked out, perhaps a normal job at Area 51 or something would be more easy on the mind.
If he'd known how important it was to keep a close eye on dictators and war-mongers maybe he would have stayed a while longer, one eye on the convex mirrors, the other on the news broadcast that was interesting him at the time. Some kind of toxic spill around the Station Station area, with the public asked to evacuate.
It was all dreadfully and despairingly falling into place at the seven-eleven. Genghis had already noticed the cheerfully ambient coffee shop located at the rear right of the store and had settled there, Napoleon not far behind. A coffee conversation was about to begin that would unleash fury untold on the world.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Another thing, where is this all going?
NO PRISONERS! NO PRISONERS!