The guy swept the floor of the now genuinly roomy restaurant. He wondered why his parents had never given him a name.
What a scene had transpired here. He stepped over the a-bomb that had been disarmed just in the nick of time, and started to clean up the shards of wood from Jesus' genuine crucifixion cross that had descended from the sky and exploded.
He wondered why. Why was he in the story.
Was it for no other reason than to fill in a gap? Is that all his life amounted to?
Then he reflected on the fact that once this chapter was over, he would be erased from existence. So he sat on the floor and refused to do the job allotted to him, namely provide some exposition on what had happened and where all the characters where.
Just as he was reconsidering, (the author threatened a most horrid fate), a baby flew in through the window.
"You're too late, they've all gone" the guy told the baby, surprisingly because he had no reason to know why the baby had flown in through the window, or that the 1 year old even knew how to speak English (as opposed to German or French, which of course all babies speak quite fluently)
"awwwww FUCK!" said the baby, revealing another, rather foul-mouthed side to her personality.
"NIIIIIXOOOON NOOOO!" came the scream. Then a ninja star took off the ex-president's head.
The scream came from McKenzie, dripping and hanging over the side of his very own water tank.
Reale had only ever seen a wet priest decapitate an ex-president once before, and he had sworn he'd never let it happen again. He glared at McKenzie.
McKenzie forgave the glare and plopped totally out of the tank.
"There is going to be two Bowie concerts withing the next 5 hours..." he hurridly told Reale. "One in the Bahamas, and one on Mars. If he doesn't make it to both all of the universes are doomed."
"That makes sense" said Reale and radioed the information to HQ. He'd forgotton all about Quentin, letting him plop into the far reaches of eternity without holding onto the twine. "So I'm guessing here that Bowie escaped from where I left him...."
"That's one hell of a good guess"
The moon was going on again about breeding emus. Pop felt like grabbing two handfuls of the chalky residue around him and cramming them into his ears, but it would all be for naught, the moon was talking to him telepathically.
"ummm...Mr Moon? Time is of the essence..."
The moon was stunned by the interruption, but felt powerless to do anything about it. Strange, as if Pop had some hidden power greater than him.
"If you could just orbit over there tonight, instead of here, this could solve all our problems"
"Just orbit over there huh? Like it's no big deal hmm? Like there are no laws of physics to be broken in doing so ah? Why don't you just ask me to flash all the colors of the rainbow while you're at it yah? Anything else jub?"
Pop, fed up with the moon's temper tantrums took out his letter (you could hear the moon gasp all the way from the Earth when he saw Pop do this) and started reading :
Dear Evil Pop
You are the winner of a brand new Playstation 2 after your name was picked out randomly from a bunch of rock stars.
To pick up your prize, just go to 200 Railway Parade, West Leederville and knock three times on the door. Congratulations.
"gotta go"! Pop said to the moon excitedly and dove in the moondust making sure it covered him completely. He'd been waiting until the PS2 had fallen dramatically in price, but it seemed today was a lucky day for evil.
TO BE CONTINUED...
"Another misconception is that flying brains will get tangled in your hair.