The cavern is widening. Above stretches the rocky expanse of a subterranean amphitheater. Soft grass underfoot. The smell of fresh cut flowers. Hand in hand, through the ups and downs, a great adventure awaits. Your smile is always with me.
Around the bend comes a man riding a buggy in a space suit. It’s a golf cart with piano wire tires. Mounted on the spindly roof is an upside down umbrella. A full set of golf clubs, gimcracks and gewgaws of all sorts clutter the moon car.
The man slows and comes to a stop beside us.
“What are you doing, Mr. Moon Man?” You ask.
“I’m exploring the moon.” He replies.
“Good sir, you are driving a tricked out golf cart in the basement of The Space Center Sepulcher.” I exclaim.
“Nonsense! This is the moon. I traveled two hundred and thirty seven thousand miles, through treacherous radiation belts and the vacuum of space to arrive on the moon.”
In an instant a great crash is heard. A stage light falls from the ceiling, a shower storm of sparks rains down on the green. The space man is startled. We look around. Men in black can be seen scattering through the catwalks above.
“Exit stage left!” The Moon Man drives away.
Stay tuned for the next installment…
The Firm Part 13 Intergalactic Finance Minister
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