The corona virus saga - chapter 45

No one knew how to build the StarGate.

So for all of the monkey display behavior associated with dissing other countries attempts at creating a StarGate, no one had actually done it. We just pissed on each other as someone else made a feeble attempt to try.

No one knew how to do it.

Except perhaps for Jon Frum. Maybe the star man knew how to build a StarGate.

Or summon one. By perhaps nefarious means.

But if he did he wasn’t talking.


Jon Frum was a man of few words.

He prefered to listen. To what you had to say.

And boy did you have a lot to say. At least that was his experience.


Jon Frum was like Santa Claus. And all of the little monkeys inhabiting the earth sat on poor Jon’s lap and told him what they wanted for their inner most desires.

And he assured them that it was coming. In the form of cargo. Interstellar cargo. Cargo from somewhere else. So it just had to be better, right.

That was just how things worked.


Jon Frum was a man of few words. But he did have a steely gaze. Golden, or were the green, or maybe opal, everyone forgot as soon as they looked away.

But Jon Frum was your friend. Of that you could be assured. He told you straight up that was a fact. And of course you believed him. How could you not. He was Jon Frum. Star Man. Overseer of the universe, no wait, traveler of the universe, no wait, inter-stellar gadafly- no wait,

No good son of a …..

Hey, stop that.

Just channeling the energy of the room son. Just channeling the energy of the room. That you are in. That we all are in. This room called planet earth. A small dot in the middle of nowhere at the extreme edge of ‘no one cared’, so definitely far out, no where near the galactic core and it’s hip elite inner core attitude.

Yeah, Jon Frum knew how to conjure up a StarGate. But damned if he was telling.

You just had to have faith.

In cargo.


We'll be right back, for more of our weekly series 'Fun Stories', where our famous guest you never heard of reads excerpts from 'Fun Stories'.  But first, a commercial that definitely isn't a commercial.

Bill stopped listening to the car radio, and stared intently out the window.  They were starting to enter the edges of the heartland, which was like a hinterland to the center, and things were starting to get weird.  Well, weirder then they already were, and that was pretty damn weird.

It seems our fine fellows in that dusty old Tauras had been driving by all kinds of strange stuff on their road trip.  And there seemed to be a big heap load more of it just ahead.  Off the highway. So they took the next exit, with it's 'scenic loop' sign luring any and all into the delights that awaited them on that special loop exit that took you off the beaten path, off the interstate, into the heartland.

And what delights they were, once you got there. Strange lights in the night. From scaffolding apparently. Like a carnival had come to town and setup up a wide assortment of different garishly lighted carnival rides for the town folk to spend their good hard earned money on. Bring the rubes in for the kill. Soften them up before the prize.

But then everyone working there must of gone on strike, or more likely skipped town before the sheriff found them and dragged them into lockup for some hoped up charge based on old parking tickets or moving violations.  At least it looked like that.  Like they started something, got distracted, and then moved on, leaving that half constructed something to the elements.

Carny folk, thought our 2 Boogs.  Unreliable. Still, they might be good for recruitment. They might have the right attitude. Be ready to do something unreasonable.

But the people were no where to be seen. No carnies. No rubes.  No construction workers either. There was actually a lot of activity going on all over the place if you looked closely, but it seemed that slow moving robots were doing the vast majority of it.

Wait, said Bill. I think i hear something.  Over there.

They looked to a flat paved area that might have been a used car lot at one time.  But now had been transformed into an outdoor ballroom.  Filled with people and glowing lights.

Star people were joined up in small clusters, joined together dancing up a storm. Kind of like a 'hug everyone close up' kind of square dancing. Or maybe they were playing twister, it has hard to tell. They seemed busy. We didn’t want to bother them. Also, our heads started to hurt whenever we got too close. Not worth the effort. We had bigger fish to fry.

They stood there, watched the star people dance up a storm, while strange lights floated in a glowing mist above their heads. Like an energy was being generated and then emitted from all of them together in communion.  Jumping quantum energy gaps and sending out a photon or two when it happened.

They work like a team, thought Bill. They must be wearing bluetooth sets to communicate, these dance moves sure are intricate. They must spend a lot of time practicing. I wonder if they have a club that meets twice weekly? I wonder if i could join?

Bill became entranced himself, standing there watching them dance. He started to shuffle his feet a little bit, loosen them up. He felt a calling inside of his brain, in a place where it was all soft and warm, plush upholstery, the best couch money could buy.

And a beautiful woman was sitting on that couch. and she said, Bill, come join us. Come join us in the dance.

And Bill tipped his hat and said, "why i do believe i will."

A sudden breeze brought him back to the surface. Back to where they were in the universe. Their mission, this tiny part of it. But still, what harm was there in dancing.

"Hey boss, maybe we should do some dancing ourselves. Get into the mood.  Make some friends. "

"No time. We're got fish to fry. Into the pan, Bill. Into the pan. "

"Whatever you say boss. Whatever you say."

And they climbed back into their fine american vehicle, reved her up, and headed out onto the road into the night.