More Fluther Fun: Care to join me for a story?

a small white globular ball of light approximately four feet off the ground. Alternating between all the primary colors, it pulsated erratically; almost as if it were trying to speak to him. His knife fell from his hand, clattering on the bare concrete floor and sending…..............

Sparks into the air as the knife blade rattled around the concrete floor uncontrollably. Jackson suddenly realised that the globular ball of light was nothing more than a hallucination and the knife was actually his wife’s vibrator that he had borrowed the day before to use as a foot massager. Jackson felt hungry so he then left the house and staggered out into the snow covered streets of…..

Laredo. The wind whipped snow against his weathered face as he labored against it toward…..

His favorite Pizzateria. He had little money with him and planned a dirty trick in order to fool the pizzateria into giving him food for free. He was smiling devilishly when he saw…

his wife snogging a wiry-looking middle-aged man who was gazing into her eyes amorously. Bertha had not noticed Jackson who was staring at them in blank amazement. “Your order sir”,yelled the young waitress in her Fran Drescher voice.

He should have seen this coming, really. It was one thing to fall for an action hero, but quite another to endure the solitary nights, the constant anxiety, the life on the margins of society. A few years of that and, well, the ordinary starts to look pretty damn good. After the initial shock, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

Jackson slipped quietly out into the night, leaving the pizza, Bertha, and whatever small claim he might have had to stability receding with each step. That too felt perfectly natural. In his most honest moments, he could see that instability was his true element.

His phone rang. It was…

time.

Jackson had just received the call he’d been waiting for his entire life. He had been chosen as the winner of an all inclusive trip and all he had to do was participate in a brief survey and give his credit card number over the phone. Jackson felt incredible, but he knew that he should tell all of his family and coworkers of his amazing good fortune and let them know that he was leaving on a vacation.
Jackson was nervous as he had never been on a plane before so he decided the smart thing to do would be to arrive at the airport early, fully armed and demand to leave on his vacation immediately. Surely the airport staff would recognize the prize winner and send him on his way. Jackson entered the airport waving his firearms in the air and yelling at the top of his lungs…...

.

But, being the Detroit airport, this was an everyday occurrence and the end result was that he was shuffled into line with all the other gun waving, one liter bottle toting commuters waiting to be strip searched by Wendy, the jovial, slightly emaciated TSA agent whose failed modeling career had landed her here in Motor City; waving her wand and handling other peoples junk before they left on their respective sojourns to who knew where.

As Jackson tentatively approached her…..

a sly grin of recognition spread over her gaunt yet curiously pretty face. “Well Jackson”, she announced laughingly, “why…

what on earth are YOU doing here!” Jackson’s eyes lit up upon seeing Wendy’s face. I’m on my way to Saint Vincent and the Grenadines!

Hey. if this gets published do we at least get an acknowledgement on the back cover? Just asking.

The lie came easily. Misdirection was one of the fundamental tools of his trade, and he deployed it with consummate skill. Even Wendy’s TSA training in reading the subtle signs of subterfuge was disarmed.

After all, he hadn’t seen Wendy in years. That distant weekend in Istanbul was hardly a solid basis for life-long trust. Still, something inside him wanted nothing more than to….

@rojo hmm, I’ll consider it ;)
seriously though, I’m having so much fun reading it all!

grab the smirking wisp of a girl and ravage her on the spot. He hoped his face didn’t betray his thoughts. “So how long have you been a guardian of the nation’s skies?” He quipped. Wendy was quick on her feet and turned the mild ridicule back on him as though she’d rehearsed it. “I jumped at this job” she replied waving the wand around his head excessively as though she were swatting mosquitos. ” I knew you would pass through here sooner or later, and nothing says public service like making your life as miserable as possible. Perhaps a trip on the rides in our little amusement park might enhance that goal ” she continued now wagging the wand dangerously near his privates and raising an eyebrow in the direction of the heavy door in the nearby wall. “Well” began Jackson, still soaking up the imagery ”.......

care to come out and join me when you’re done? ” Wendy flashed a pearly white smile.
” I’ll be on the next flight out,” she hissed.

She thought she would be, but

…then how could she have known that there would be no “next” anything for her. She, like everyone else in her job, had one deadly enemy, and it was not the rabbid terrorist that everyone on the “outside” imagined; it was routine. How incredibly easy it was to lose the edge and overlook what’s right there in plain sight. While Wendy had been preoccupied with Jackson…

A meteor coming from nowhere crashed onto the plane and caused a massive explosion, sending passagers hundred miles away. Wendy looked at the scene and said: “well, I’m glad I’m with you”. Jackson felt…

… around for his handkerchief, the explosion had irritated his sinuses and his nose ran like a tap. Once he had dealt with that emergency he…

. . . realized how very narrowly he (and everyone else who had not yet taken a shuttle to board the plane) escaped the certain crushing demise that had just unfolded in front of their eyes. If the airport had not been undergoing renovations for expansion, and if it had not consequently moved the terminal a couple of miles away from the one meager original runway to make room for many more substantial runways, everyone sitting in the terminal would be dust in the crater that had flattened bulldozers, luggage, an unspecified Boeing airplane, almost two hundred passengers, and several dozen staff . . . everyone would be dust in the crater that had flattened all that lay within its radius.

As Jackson stood next to Wendy, who had let the TSA wand clatter to the linoleum in her shock, he tried to account for his miraculous escape from death. Never mind that if NASA had been properly funded its scientists would have been able to see the meteor coming years in advance, and calculated its trajectory, and evacuated people in a 10 mile radius of the potential impact point; never mind such funding would have saved 250 lives (and several bulldozers, and a Boeing airplane); never mind George, an astrophysicist standing in line several people behind Jackson, who was begrudging that very thought. No—for Jackson, who still believed he was some sort of action hero, this was destiny.

As he stood next to Wendy, who still had not moved, who was still staring out the large terminal window at the newly formed crater, he felt certain that this was somehow destiny. Somehow corporate interests for a larger airport, an expanding city that needed a larger airport, and his peculiar hallucination earlier in the day had all led to this moment of him standing next to Wendy. He let his handkerchief fall to the ground. It covered the TSA wand as he grabbed at Wendy’s hand. He was certain this event was the beginning of his eventual victory. (Victory over what? He could not say. Vaguely he thought he was supposed to be looking for some object that would help him. Vaguely he recalled his not-a-knife, which had clattered on concrete earlier in the day.) At first she did not react, but suddenly she pulled away from him, shouting . . .

WEEE!!! That was fun! Did you see that sh_t?
Jackson was in shock from the meteor blast, but Wendy’s careless demeanor after witnessing such a tragedy was kind of a turn on. She was sexy in a Donald Trump stupid self centered kind of way.
Jackson asked Wendy to marry him right then and there.
He is currently already married, but who’s counting.
Wendy said yes!
They proceeded to attempt to conceive a child right there in the airport, but too many first responders from the meteor tragedy were getting in the way of their love making.
Jackson and Wendy decided to call it quits so Jackson left the airport.
He was still determined to have his vacation against all odds so he rented a car and proceeded on a road trip to…..

Niagra. This time he’d look at the falls. He’d then take a Kayak to Quincy or Nyack. He’d get away from it all. But first there was the practical matter of…stealing a car. He made his way through the wrecked terminal wondering how anyone within a mile of the meteor strike wasn’t incinerated on the spot. Hell, his eardrums weren’t even blown from the resulting pressure wave. “well” he murmured to himself, ” life really is stranger than fiction”. He was rolling the thought of the right car for a road trip around in his head; something sumptuous and comfortable, maybe a big boat of a sedan. He exited the terminal to “shop” through the parking garage. He’d just begun walking up one of the “out” ramps when…....

he saw a cab approaching and coming to a halt a few meters away from him. The door openened and out stepped Bertha cackling and rattling on about something. A few moments later the stringy, fancy-man stepped out too. They both stood there staring at the smoke-filled sky. Suddenly, Bertha yanked at Hank’s reedy hand and like a feverish, over-excited little bitch on heat, pulled him towards the entrance. “Come on Hank,” she screeched irritatingly. Hank follwed looking up at the smoke wondering what had caused the asphyxiating haze.

, but managed to just miss its source. Bertha continued to pull him toward a metal door, which was painted an inspiring snot-green. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal a tiny, ancient woman in a jumpsuit. Despite its weight and rusty hinges, she had given it

a colossal push. The huge door swung its full travel and banged noisily against the wall. “Someone likes to make an entrance” thought Jackson as the frail woman stood arrow straight, facing him, arms now folded, framed by the doorway. “Meester Walker…..

what is the purpose of your visit, business or pleasure?”

“Pleasurable business, I hope” he replied. The gritted teeth and sudden twitch that developed in her cheek told him that his attempt at humor had been a dismal failure. While standing there wondering what tack to take next with the grizzled, twitching visage glaring at him he heard the door click shut behind him. Turning to look back over his shoulder saw Wendy standing there with her back against the door, a wan smile playing across her face…...

“I’ve booked a room at the Hotel Kuntz, care to join me for a drink?” Jackson’s eyes scanned Wendy in a microsecond. “Get yourself over there honeysuckle and I “ll be there as soon as I ‘ve taken care of some unfinished business,” he retorted.

“I was hoping Ms. Anthrope could, perhaps, join us as well” she purred, nodding toward the only other woman in the room, who while unobserved had managed to somehow acquire a riding crop and slapped it resoundingly against her own leather clad thigh. Jackson involuntarily jumped at the sound and wondered when the TSA had begun issuing leather jumpsuits.

The old woman smiled broadly at the two of them and Jackson noticed that she was missing most, if not all, of her teeth. Well, he thought, this could be interesting. At least I don’t have to worry about her biting down. Oddly enough, Wendy had the exact same thought at the exact same time.

So, off went the ill-sorted, mismated trio, Wendy striding ahead confidently like a proud flamingo,followed by a rather eager Jackson and the old gal who lagged along behind, visibly annoyed by the irritating wedgie created by her tight-fitting, illuminous yellow, butt flossing thongs.

A few minutes later, the cab came to a screeching halt outside The Kuntz.

loomed before them with all the charm and ambience of a Federal prison. “Figures” thought Jackson as he exited the cab, brow furrowed ” how do I wind up dipped in shit like this?” He didn’t bother looking back as he approached then assaulted the hotel door before the Beefeater costumed doorman could react. The click of little heels behind him…..

The doorman tipped his hat and said “Evening Ms. Anthrope. Back again so soon?”

The senior Lolita flashed a toothless smile and made ner way to the hotel elevator. Jackson and Wendy followed. As the elevator ascended smoothly, suddenly it came to an abrupt stop between floors. The lights flickered and turned off. Jackson reached for the elevator phone.

As soon as he touched it, he found himself wonderfully transported, alone, to the Pacific island of Fiji…

Jackson had the time of his life there.

THE. END

is no where to be found he…...