AA: Churn

[Lawrence Brown]

AA: Churn

 

`Altiverse 223DON'TTRYITAUTHORSONLY' 

 

High above the chapterhouse, above the mountains of Nerf, orbited the
Amigoid's Biodome.

Normally running silently above the planet in a geosynchronous orbit,  the
telltale flicker of increased illumination, and authorial activity, could be
detected by those that knew what to look for.  

 

The Amigoid was in da house.  And he was not in a very good mood.

 

"Where is it?"  He asked, his voice rising in both tone and volume.

 

"Where's what?"  Dr Sheri Brown, his muse, responded.

 

"You know dang well; my Amiga 4000T. Where is it?"

 

"Honestly, its been so long since you have been up here, it's a wonder you
know where anything is..."

 

Lars playfully batted away a sweeper bot.  Always the eagle eye, he waved his
hand to get the group's attention, then pointed at a spot, roughly
rectangular in shape. A dusty outline describing the spot the Amiga had
rested for years.  Only a Ethernet cable and a power strip remained.

 

The Amigoid gaped at the spot. "It was right THERE.  I know it was, the bots
were programmed to stay clear of the system to avoid dents and dings."  He
turned and jabbed a finger at the bored and disinterested muse.  "What  do
you say now?!?"

 

"Oh, gee, maybe I should have reprogrammed the bots to clean the space."

 

"Oh man...." Christopher, budding junior author, ducked behind a desk,
dragging his brother.

 

Amigoid tottered on the precipice, then took a deep breath and stepped back.
"You sold the Amiga?"   He stopped and leaned heavily against the glass of
the dome, gazing sightlessly out into space.

 

"Yes, and I was thinking about remodeling this area into a scrap-booking
nook, and maybe putting in a hot tub..." Sheri continued brightly, describing
the plans.

 

"No."

 

"...no what?"

 

"No." Amigoid breathed again.  "I tried to be patient and understanding, when
you had me ditch my Collected Omaha, my comics, my Champions playbooks, even
my Watchmen...."

 

"Good riddance too.   That stuff was a bad influence."

 

"Then you suggested that we were spending too much money on City of Heroes,
and so I dropped Spectrum, MicroManager, TDSM, Nikon Ninja,"

 

"And don't forget Cybertek!" Christopher chirped and then ducked back out of
sight, "That was MY character...."

 

"Chris, Lars, take the teleporter home.  We'll be along in a bit." Amigoid
intoned.  "Your mama and I need to have a little chat..."

 

Christopher quietly snagged a couple items and darted for the door.  Lars,
having found a set of self-inflating whoopee cushions and some duct tape,
noisily skipped behind his brother, every step flarping a fart sound that
echoed in the dome.  "GRAVY!" He giggled.

 

Turning back to the muse....

 

Amigoid sighed and hung his head.  "Get out.  You're fired.  You may be my
wife in 000REALLIFE, and you were my original inspiration for Foxy, but you
suck as a muse.

Yada-yada, standard severance package and relocation, bada-bing.  You've done
noting but discourage my writing. Maybe not overtly, but if there is a
Grunion for anti-muse, you have my nomination."

 

"Couldn't you write about something else?  I mean, this is so silly and
stupid and a waste of time.  I thought when you were beta-testing CoH, you'd
forget about this, but then you go ahead an make your main character Spectrum
there too.  I even tossed your copy of Heavy Metal."

 

Amigoid looked up.  "I wondered where that went..." He turned and walked to a
long handle on the floor.  "You never watched that movie, did you?"  

 

"Of course not, It looked satanic."

 

"Too bad.  You might have known about....This!"  Amigoid pulled the handle
and a trap door appeared under the muse.

 

Amigoid whistled to himself, EDITing up a new A4000T.  "Just can't get good
help these days. Nobodys perfect....guess I need to find a new muse.  Pausing
at a PC webpage, he clicked through a few screens.  "Hmm.  Zig-Zag?  She'd be
a great muse.  I'd need to get some releases signed for that one.  Better
just think of someone, something original."  He pulled a PDA from his belt
and speed-dialed Christopher.  "Son, better EDIT up some mattresses and
airbags.  Your mother should be back home in about 30 seconds, give or
take..."

 

"Cool.  You staying in the dome?"  

 

"Yeah, just for the weekend.  I figure she'll be glad to have that off her
chore list anyway.  And son, I saved the screenshots of Cybertek.  So at
least we will have that.  We need to get some stories rolling again.."

 

"Okay Dad.  I'll see you Sunday...."

 

Amigoid sat down and edited up a jukebox and a stack of pizzas, followed by a
soda machine with dew.  With classic 80's rock thumping in the background, he
set to work at the keyboard.

 

 

 

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