Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 53

lie said, getting ready to play hero,
like on TV.
“Wait!” Merrie held out her hand
like a traffic cop. “You’ll wreck the
door. You might hurt her, and for
what? I bet the Jovians have something
else up their sleeves if this
doesn’t work.”
“Yeah, after all they have thirteen
of—” Charlie was interrupted by
Merrie’s ring tone.
“Yes,” Merrie spoke to her cell,
“Violet’s in the bathroom too. No,
we’ve had about enough.” Merrie
closed the phone and said, “Jody’s
going to compromise with Coventry,
and says it’s all over the news. This
confiscation order is very unpopular,
and not just with kids, parents too.”
“At least we won’t be alone,”
Charlie said over his shoulder as he
retrieved Violet’s cell, hidden in the
bookshelf. Soon after he pressed
the power button it beeped with a
message. Charlie showed the screen
to Merrie:
BLIMM: Can’t we all just get
along? We’re sorry.
“Ha! Fine time for that!” Merrie
said. “After all the trouble they’ve
caused?”
“Well, you know, I’ve kinda en-
joyed watching Dick Peacock lose
his authority. He’s such a terrible
boss. It hasn’t been all bad,” Charlie
said.
“I guess it’s time we let young
girls have a chance. Old men have
been running things, and we know
how well that’s turned out,” Merrie
said
“Or is this just our bladders talking?”
Charlie slid Violet’s cell under
the door. The knob turned. “Ladies
first,” Charlie said, as Merrie rushed
in with no time to spare.
***
And so the frequent need which
nature in her mysterious wisdom
had placed upon all people of Earth
finally handed cherished victory to
the girls, who were reunited with
their Jovian Best Friends Forever,
since everyone has to pee.
Bff.jov © 2009 by Scott Davis
Lightning flashed across the sky
like brilliant spider webs. Rain
poured from the clouds and into
the turbulent waves of the ocean’s
surface, swirling froth and foam in
torrents.
A small white bulb floated across
the crashing surface of the water,
dipping and bobbing with the force
of the waves, but never submerging.
The bulbous shape resembled
that of a disc or an upturned saucer.
Rain pelted its smooth top as it
coasted along through the vicious
storm, rocking in violent jerks.
Inside of the floating orb sat two
haggard-looking men in blue flight
suits. Facing one another, their harnesses
held them fast to the seat
backs as they swayed with the outside
currents. The smooth, membrane-walled
interior of the vessel
was lit with iridescent blue light,
which played over the faces of both
men within.
“How much further?” the first inquired.
“It shouldn’t be long, Veedle,”
replied his traveling companion,
with an irritated tone. “Our coordinates
were very precise.” Melkins
adjusted the sweaty spectacles that
framed his beady eyes.
Into the Deep
by Brandon Meyers
ISSUE 53
“Right,” Veedle agreed. “The coordinates.”
A particularly strong
wave threw them both sideways in
their seats. “As long as we’ve got
those.”
When the lightning burst outside,
it lit the interior of the compartment,
pulsing through the thin but
tough barrier and nearly blinding
the vehicle’s occupants.
“Say, Melkins. Suppose the coordinates
were off just a little bit...”
“Impossible,” Melkins gruffed.
“These are not things that the Gantry
takes lightly. You have no idea
how much money was spent on the
design and construction of this device.”
He struggled to keep his glasses
fixed on his nose.
“Right, right,” Veedle said. “Well,
with all that money, you’d have
thought they might at least hire
some kind of decorator. After all, it’s
a little bland in here.”
“Please quiet yourself.”
“And supposing I don’t?” Veedle
prodded.
“You know the rules,” Melkins
said.
Veedle peered over the edge of
the viewing port. Save for the circular
bench seat, and a short ledge for
their feet, the round vacuous hole
Page 14