Ahh, Spring Break, that wonderful, special time of year wherein university students travel far from their birthplaces to spend an entire week spawning and vomiting copiously. I tend to stay here in town and either move to other apartments or work my ass off on school projects since I'd rather not waste money on a trip this time of year just to be surrounded thundering herds of drunken ho-bags. You couldn't pay me to sit on any barstools they've been stuck to.
This year was different. This year I completed my wonderous project!
I'd been secretly riveting iron plates together in my living room for my top secret Space Projectile (and the giant gun barrel to fire it into space) for quite a while. I had been quietly dragging the pieces, provisions, and fuel out to the park with my bike in the dead of night and covering them with leaves so I could later assemble them on site. This past weekend all was assembled, packed and fueled just in time for the moon to be in the optimum position for a launch.
I attired myself and Damien, my cat assistant, in protective leather garments and dark goggles and taught him to fire a small pistol--who knows what sort of moon creatures we would encounter! I packed enough food and water for ten days, since I knew I had to return to my lowly Earth studies at the end of that time. There was also a box of knitting, a dog-eared copy of The Pearl, and some Doritos.
The launch was uneventful, save for the inadvertant scorching of several napping hobos, and we sailed along through space at a terrific clip. I soon became bored with both the knitting and the Victorian porn and whiled away the long hours tying loose objects to the cat.
Our landing was a bit rough, with Damien bouncing about the cabin like a marble in a can (I failed to strap him in his seat), and when we came to a stop we beheld a ghostly, cratered landscape. After the dust setteled I cranked open the door, which luckily wasn't on the side buried deep in the soil, and crept out into the light. Damien readied his pistol and kept watch at the rear.
"Look out!" he yowled, "There are Moon Men behind those rocks!" He fired off a couple of shots before I could stop him.
I was furious. This was meant to be a peaceful mission! "Damien, you jackass!" I shrieked. "Why can't you leave stuff the hell alone???" I aimed a kick, and as usual missed by a mile.
He shrugged, unconcerned. "Uhhh, I'm a cat. That's what we do." He played with a bit of loose stone.
Our argument was soon interrupted. The Moon Men shot back with incredible, fantastic weapons that appeared to concentrate beams of light. Unfortunately these beams melted rock so we high-tailed it for the nearest mountain range, hoping they would run out of light before we eventually ran out of mountain.
We were now at war with Moon Men!
To be continued.