Monday, October 12, 2015

Whippettio's Goulash Dispenser #1




     A green light flashed on the console.

    One.

    Two.

    Three.

    Then a pause.
   
    Then another flash — and round again.

    Whippettio placed his bowl under the dispenser nozzle, ruminating on his latest dilemma.

    Would the guys at the lab fix the anti-grav in time for the exhibition?

    Would the exhibition even happen?

    And would the goulash be overly lumpy, like it had been since the weekend?



    A shuttle stalled outside the window, and a goofy pug kid flashed him a stupid face.

    More lights.

    Two beeps.

    A waft of steam.

    All the vegetables looked okay, and though some of the fat had separated from the sauce, everything looked more or less how it should.



    Whippettio eyed a chunk of meat floating near the bowl’s edge, took a sniff and grabbed a spoon.

    “Guys,” he said, as he crossed to the solar table, “I guess we can hire an anti-grav from storage if our own falls through.  Their rates are reasonable and I can pick it up next time I’m over at Judo.”

    He shook his head and blew on his goulash.  “No.  Wait.  I guess we can rely on storage to provide a replacement anti-grav if ours falls through.  I’m over at Judo all the time, so it’s no problem for me to pick one up.”

    Spooning the meat into his mouth, he watched the shuttle pull off into the main space lane, picturing how Aida and Luperno would react to his plan.

    Aida nodded, Luperno cupped her chin and shrugged.

    “Okay,” said Whippettio with a series of half nods.  “Okay.  Okay.  Let’s go with that.”

    He spooned some more goulash from the bowl, and the voices chittering in his head gave way to silent contentment.


    [To be continued...]

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