Starbucks
It sounds like a retarded form of currency in the future, doesn’t it? Like something you’d read in a terrible science fiction paperback, the kind where everything has the word space or star as a prefix. I imagine it would read like this…
Dash Flexor pulled his space-car into the star-station and pumped a couple hundred gallons into the tank, adjusting his space-visor to shield his eyes from the setting suns.
“That’ll be 25 star-bucks,” the fuel drone beeped.
“You take Star-Visa?” Dash asked.
“Affirmative.”
“Charge it,” Dash said, “and throw in a space-wash.”
Somewhere, a space-hound yelped.
It’s midnight, I’m still working off the coffee that’s on my breath from an hour ago, and I’m probably going to read this in the morning and delete it out of embarrassment. In the meantime, goodnight to you all.
