by Daniel Cawthorne

Created on: August 29, 2008

To Do List

Call Mom. CHECK

Breathe. CHECK

Have A Great Day.

Well, the couch was rather comfortable. To get up would mean to face the harsh reality that seemed to be the sole element of his life. He thought hard.

As I thought, he thought, I can't think of a worse day than this. This year, anyhow.

He sighed. He rolled over.

He thought briefly about crying but knew it would take too much effort and that there was no one to care.

Beep.

Great, he thought.

The answering machine kicked on.

"Hey, this is Josh. Apparently I was not around to answer the phone. More than likely I just didn't want to talk to you. Go away." Beep.

A perky female voice came on.

"Uh, Hello, Mr.. Ah! Mr. Royston! Yes, this is, uh, Jamie with the First National Bank. We were just calling to let you know that you are bankrupt. Have a great day!" Beep.

He cried then.

Meanwhile in the Galactic Death Ship Zargon

"Are you sure they won't mind?"

The voice belonged to Rae Squittlebottom, a short Thingian from the aptly named Planet Thingy, a large planet on the opposite side of the Solar System. His skin was a pale green color. And what hair he had was a light gray. His left nose was slightly bigger and runnier than his right one and his center eye protruded a little further than the other two. As Thingians go, he wasn't half bad looking. Except for his height. The Thingian was no more than Q units tall. Rather embarrassing when the other Thingians were at least K units tall.

He disguised his height with his voice. It was rather deep for a Thingian. He lived by the old adage, "If you speak with enough authority they'll die."

Or was that, "If you kill them they'll die"? He couldn't remember.

The question in question was directed to his companion, another Thingian named Sqond Qundlenoodel. He was an average Thingian. A hair under above K units with a tuft of white hair protruding from his back.

Sqond, known as Sqindel to his friends, looked lazily at Rae. "What?"

"I said, Are you sure they won't mind?'" He repeated himself.

Sqond chortled. A strange sound for a Thingian. It was used as a laugh but sounded more like a Tringleezian death scream. Only not as loud.

"Of course they won't mind. The general consensus seems be in agreement."

"And what would that be?"

"Well," Sqond began, "They seem to think that this is something of the worse day ever. A real gorth of a day."

"Ah, I see." Rae replied. Sqond doubted very much that he did.

"Anyway," Sqond continued, "One of them, a man named Val Moore, says that it will happen anyway."

"What?!"

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