IMPOSSIBLE SPACE TALES OF THE LAST PIT STOP PART 1

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Part 1: Commute

IMPOSSIBLE SPACE TALES OF THE LAST PIT STOP Part 1 of 12 First published online December 2012 From 21st Century Sandshark Studios All stories and characters Contained within are the Intellectual properties Of Dan Nokes 2012 All rights reserved

Welcome to the first installment of IMPOSSIBLE SPACE TALES OF THE LAST PIT STOP! Once again this is me taking a genre I have a soft spot for and creating a homage/critique with it.

This time it’s science fiction. Like most kids of my generation, I grew up with the rise and decline of the space program and the rise of science fiction as a respected and commercially viable form of story narrative. Properties like Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who along with such visionaries as Asimov, Bradbury, Verne, and Orwell helped set the landscape and lexicon that any Sci-fi creator draws from in order to weave a tale into existence.

Over the past century and a half , we have been presented stories of man stepping out into brave new worlds, meeting new strange alien life and reaching out to the ends of the universe.

What happens when aliens are commonplace, when far off worlds are not that strange and intergalactic travel is mundane?

Welcome to the world of THE LAST PIT STOP! These aren't the stories of courageous star pilots, cosmic overlords, dashing space pirates, enigmatic time travelers or interstellar peace keeping agents.

This is not a story of exploring new planets, making contact with new life forms and finding fortune, glory and enlightenment in the process.

These are the tales of those who serve those people their coffee, hot dogs and sweet and salty snacks!

Now their stories begin‌ Please feel free to explore more of THE LAST PIT STOP at www.21sandshark.com or contact me at sandshark# comcast.net!

NOW READ ON YA HUMPS!!!!

Dan Nokes October 30th 2012

Rachel, Nevada 4:00 am

My name is Alan Sheppard..

GOD DAMNIT!

DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIT! In less than two hours I have to report to work.

-1-

I spend at least a good half hour in some form of grief- denial.

Must be a good day!

The hot water in the shower managed to last the whole way through.

Come on caffeine!

I need a 5 second adrenaline happy.

About 4:30 I try to assume something resembling a vertical posture.

And the chlorine aftertaste is at a minimum to boot!

5:30 am: I bid FAREWELL TO my palatial, studio, trailer home my employer has so graciously provided me, and make my way to work in my late 80’s import hatchback. that is the ENVY of 3rd desert dwellers the world over!

It’s now 5:15am. I should have been out the door about 15 minutes ago.

But there’s a boner pill infomercial that manages to supersede my priority list.

5:25am: I’m going to be late. Working on my plan not to be noticed as I try to Sneak through the front door!

I am the world’s most prestigious near minimum wage slave!

-2-

5:45am: I’m at the first of half a dozen check points. It will take me at least 15 minutes to clear them all.

Morning sir!

You’d think that would make me important.

Morning Larry!

The hero meets up with the dashing rogue, the wise sage and the love interest, along with some off beat comic relief characters.

I am some sort of wunderkind, science know it all or super secret, covert agent and the crappy car and dilapidated motor home is all an elaborate cover…

Well its about half right.

-3-

Larry doesn’t know my name. I’m not allowed to tell him. I just present him with a thumbscan and he lets me through. The transceiver in my car and in my neck makes sure I’m not swarmed in by a small squadron of military vehicles and men with pointy, shooty things.

You ever watch one of those sci-fi adventure movies where the hero begins his epic journey by walking into one of those outer space bars?

Eventually some unsavory elements cause a bar fight and thus sends our hero headlong into adventure.

Well I’m not that hero.

This is what the public at large on earth calls: AREA 51. UFO nuts and pseudo history buffs love to ramble on about how this is a landing strip for aliens.

I’m just the guy that works at the bar, or more accurately, a convenience store

Again half right; Nobody ever goes into detail about why they would land here in the first place.

Its not because of scientific curiosity or secret invasion.

Frankly the rest of the cosmos does not consider us that worthwhile.

-4-

In Reality: the only reason ExtraTerrestrials stop here is the only reason most of us stop at for some god forsaken back woods hubble in the middle of nowhere.

Gas, cheap food and enough of a sugar rush to get them the rest of the way home.

So how did an interstellar “mini mart� land in the middle of the Nevada Desert?

Interesting story really, But one thing at a time.

First some introductions:

Meet Budarnitalgirin Targ.

AKA: BUD

Alan! My all time favorite talking monkey!

You better scatter before queen bitch-ra of the nether kingdom spots you!

I heard that, Targ!

-5-

And for the record, it’s Margaret or Miss Sumptjay!

I’ll deal with you in a minute “BUD”.

Mister Grissom!

This marks your 3rd tardy in a month.

I’m afraid I will have to write you up and deduct the lost time off your paycheck.

This is Margaret Sumptjay: Assistant Manager at the last Pit Stop and miss congeniality Two Thousand and never.

Will this affect my upcoming “performance Evaluation”?

So how about we meet half way and settle for Empress Tightass the First?

The only reason Bud gets away with one liners like that is because his dad is a high level exec at the company that owns this dive.

-6-

Do you want a suspension for insubordination, too Mister Grissom?! Because I-

That’s enough, Margaret!

Saved by the bell!

PORT-OMAX! Can I go on my smoke break?

Save it, Margo.

Alan, come with me.

Hi Portis!

Mister Krax! I was just-

This is Portis Krax: He’s the general manager of this fine establishment.

Alan, what am I going to do with you?

Nice guy. really.

Loves to tell people about how he used to be a space cop. Don’t know how much of it to believe though. He means well enough, But I’m not in the mood for the pep talk at the moment.

You need a plunger for the thing that crawled up your sphincter and died?

Bite me creep!

-7-

I don’t think so Margo!

That’s third date territory!

Look son, I like you and all. I can only cover so long though.

Here it comes. I can tell by the veins in his eye stalks he is about to go off on long winded rant.

I know Portis and I’m sorry.

I know this ain’t the swankiest job in the cosmos but-

If this happens again, I can’t stop Margaret from suspending you. Do you really want that, Alan?

I guess not Portis.

In reality, I don’t really care except I don’t want to wind up getting “’REACLIMATED” like Mark did last week.

I’m getting ahead of myself…

Look Kid.

Portis! this job is the ulcerating craphole of the known universe and you know it!

Hey Maylene!

How is my favorite employee today?

-8-

And this…This is Maylene DealeBrin! She is probably the biggest reason I still come to this place. She is the girl next door. Being of course that next door is Proxima CentaUri. She’s at this dive part time. mainly to make her way through college.

She’s planning to be an Astro-engineer after she graduates.

She’s funny, gorgeous, fun to hang around and I can’t even ask her out on a date. She can’t leave Area 51 and I can’t leave earth. So I’m stuck just gawking at her and making awkward faces from afar.

Corporate politics. Go figure!

If I’m your favorite employee Portis, then how come Margo keeps getting Employee of the standard sub cycle*?

Alan! See you’re late again! New playbox game or skinamax marathon?

-9-

* One Standard sub cycle is equivalent to roughly one earth Month.

And you’re 2 hours early.

Glutton for punishment?

Good question.

Maylene?

Got midterm exams tomorrow. Gonna go to the break room to study for a while! See you at 8, flatface!

It’s a date then!

She’s probably responsible for the times I actually smile at this place.

But reality starts to settle back in.

I’m sure there are those who would love to be in my place. Would love Knowing we are part of this big, wide community of life in the universe.

-10-

In truth, knowing there is life in the universe comes hand in hand with the fact that most of that life is just as much a big collection of assmonkeys as here on earth, if not exponentially bigger.

This, I have learned at my five years at THE last Pit Stop, is not a “Personality Quirk” limited to the human race.

It’s sadly something that unites the universe in a blanket of douchebaggery!

anyone who has ever worked in the service industry knows that a good deal of customers tend to treat you with an moderate to severe entitlement complex bordering on a servant/master relationship.

Don’t get me wrong!

Not everyone that comes across the counter is a jerk or a pain in the backside.

Some have been nice, if not without incident.

-11-

There are moments where I’d want to up and quit, But I don’t want to wind up like Mark or some of the others who were “REACLIMATED “ To the “Real World.”

But the D-Bags and the creeps out there at dead end jobs like this tend to stick out and make the bulk of your “EMPLOYMENT WAR STORIES.” Everyone in the service field on earth or any other place in the galaxy has them.

The big difference is that most of the customers at your local “Food and Gas” don’t see you as an available food source. Our customers Can Spread bacteria from 3 million light years away that will kill in hours, have mind control powers or own a car that doubles as an interstellar star destroyer.

My job is to take their cash, stock the shelves, turn on the pumps, clean out the bathrooms and occasionally act enthusiastic about the whole deal.

Welcome to The Last Pit Stop! How may I help you?

-12-

they all seem united in the quest for gas, sugar crusted confection crap and quick, bad for you food.

I am the essentially the keeper of the lamest secret in the history of the planet earth!