The Space-Time Continuum


 by Camille Griep


INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Beezle, where are you? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

 BroxCom42: Sorry, Ash. I got hungry.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Ohio can be dangerous. As your human liaison, I need to remind you that you can’t just waddle off.

 BroxCom42: Geez, Ash. I know that my five Broxillian legs and tail aren’t exactly graceful within Earth’s gravity, but that kind of language is hurtful.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Sorry Beezle. It’s the damn phone. I typed wander. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with Autocorrect.

 BroxCom42: Doesn’t seem very correct to me.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Where are you anyways?

 BroxCom42: The restaurant you recommended. This fried bologna sandwich is truly a thing of beauty.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Did you try the tater tits?

 BroxCom42: I had no idea… breasts of potato! This place is awesome. I have to get my waitress!

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Whatever you’re thinking of doing, stop right now. Don’t bite anything that isn’t on your plate. It was a typhoon.

 BroxCom42: A typhoon? I know I’m new here, but don’t you need an ocean for that? I’d better call my ship. They’ll want to know if I’m in danger.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: No. Don’t call the ship. My mistake. I meant typhoid.

 BroxCom42: Typhoid? Neil deGrasse Tyson! I’ll call the medical ship. We should get everyone off this landmass. Save the earth. Save the tater tatas!

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: No typhoon. No typhoid. Just enjoy your tuts.



 BroxCom42: You don’t seem to be having a very good day, Ash. Can I buy you a beer?

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Sounds great, Beezle. I can be there in ten minutes. Are you shitting inside or on the patio?

BroxCom42: I thought I was supposed to use the “toilets.”

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: I meant sitting.

BroxCom42: That’s only for #2, right?

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: I mean where are you shitting right now?

BroxCom42: I’m not shitting right now. I’m eating tater tots.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Goddamned phone. It’s driving me crayfish.

BroxCom42: Maybe you should stay away from crayfish. You know because of the typhoon.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: No crayfish. No typhoon.

BroxCom42: By the way, the waitress says her breasts are not made of potatoes. She seems offended.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: I’ll apologize to her when I get there.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Order me a kale.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Damnit. Order me a cipher.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Nevermind. Order me a portal.

BroxCom42: I’m gonna go ahead and order that medical ship for you.

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: Yeah. You should do that. I just hit my head against my desk and it’s bleeding. I think I may have a conclusion.

BroxCom42: What is it?

INCMG TXT MSG ASH: I need a new phone.

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