Table of Consequence

Gratis – it is not the same world today as it was yesterday.   Doors open and close.  Windows appear and disappear.   Logic is tangled by quantum deviations.   Most people are unaware, but Morgan Duverspot knew the score. He had just landed in an awkward situation surrounded by power-boosted executives and their subservient secretaries.   As Morgan took a seat at the table-of-consequence he was immediately bombarded with imposter-questions.   Evidently the executives knew him and were demanding answers. They berated Morgan because he was not producing.   Morgan felt his stomach enter his head.  The situation was prone to produce extreme anxiety.  He didn’t know what he was supposed to produce.   One executive lashed out and called Morgan a failed roustabout.   The campaign which absorbed so much time, interest, and money was aimed at selling “personality kits” to the masses. Morgan had entered a world where “personality” was the legal form of tender, but Morgan was at a loss since his own personality was shredded along the inter-dimensional highway – parts of Morgan were in several conflicting situations.  He failed to understand the current scenario.   His thinking apparatus was blocked.   Morgan began to cry in front of the powerful execs.   It was unconscionable.  No one cried at the table-of-consequence.   His secretary, Randy John, came forward with a cloth of shame to wipe Morgan’s tears.  The situation was out of hand.   Executives were demanding Morgan’s head to be placed on the wall of trophies in the men’s room.   Morgan resisted of course.   He tried to explain the “windows” and “doors” and the inter-dimensional highway, but the executives would have none of it.   As a consequence, Morgan was shuffled off to the basement level where there was a containment tank with his name inscribed on the door.   Morgan stepped into the tank and was immediately transported into a world where soup cans were considered the highest form of art.

 

Have a Nice Vacation

The conduit was connected to the brain through the head. The man struggled against the pain that shot through his Cerebral Cortex like the flame from a blow-torch. This was supposed to be Eric Jamison’s vacation, but he stepped into the wrong Travel Agency. He should have realized that a trip to the Peruvian Andes for such a bargain price was too good to be true. He suspected that, indeed, he knew all along. He left on a 727, but he was the only passenger – something was not Kosher. He thought a drink might ease his trepidation, instead he was knocked out. He awoke in the cavern with a hose in his head and pain in his brain. In fact, Eric was not surprised. For many years he traveled to unexpected locations that resulted in excruciating pain. He knew it was an addiction – he had grown to love the torture … and the Aliens loved him.