A couple driving. Sac State. Rack city gasoline. Radio and banter pleads the who “won’t touch that dial” because “dials can operate with mittens” they (70’s wife, husband pilots the terraincraft) “look at track listins’” (rural accent) and only “listens to Professors because those profs,” (ala’ flambé) have checks, with perfect AAA. Grade! Plus, know how to tame Martha Washington herstory. Where are we! Quartz mine! Not on this chart.”
“Robert. Simon! From now on you are brothers Azzamean. Ace. And the other one. I don’t care which. Which of you killed five people?”
We fessed up.
“Now, get on board the correlian.”
Your mother is encased in carbonite.
“Wait! I’m dreaming.”
He awoke. With a snort. And was relieved. Mom was still encased in carbonite.