"i really shouldn't have started drinking so early in the morning," he said as they drove across the parched, cracked desert floor in their little hatchback. she tried to turn the air conditioner on again, but it refused.
she looked up and saw the familiar discs floating in the air above them. they had been following the hatchback since dawn. they looked just like the space ships in that old ray harryhausen film where the washington monument gets blown to smithereens. in the background, in the soundtrack to her brain she could hear a dozen musical saws blasting away in her head. it must mean something.
in the middle of the road was a small infant, it had lizard eyes and adult teeth and it grinned into the headlights as the car trundled towards it. he wondered if he should swerve around it, stop and pick it up or just drive right over it.
"drive right over it," she told him, afraid that the floating discs would take advantage of them while they stopped to pick up the baby. the car slowed down.
the baby's head was about the size of a bowling ball. but it didn't have that marbled texture to it. it looked up at them and grinned as he stepped out of the car and picked it up. "thanks," it said.
the discs lowered themselves to look at the infant.
"i really shouldn't have started drinking so early in the morning," he repeated as they climbed back into the car, child in tow and the discs stalking them. she closed her eyes and watched the sun set at twenty four frames per second.
"wow," she thought to herself, "this is really kind of weird."
all words (c) filmfatale industries 2000