Zeke Herrera, staff
People often accuse me of being distrusting and distant, and those serial killers can get the fuck away from me, but they might have a point. When I was a kid my parents would fight constantly over everything (money, cleaning; Friday the 13th was the best). One night my dad got real drunk. I was in my bedroom but I could still hear him yelling. “WE CAN’T AFFORD A MAID! JUST DO THE DISHES WHILE I GO WATCH JASON X!” I’ll remember those words forever. I assume; I’ve remembered it for 25 years now. I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon. The next morning I wake up to a rustling down stairs. I go to investigate the noise. I get down stairs to find my dog putting dress shoes on his feet.
“Doctor Wiggles, where are you going?”
“I’m sick of your parents yelling, so I’m leaving this two-horse town for something better. Maybe a two-dog town and I’ll become their leader and we”ll take over their town.”
“When did you learn to talk?”
“Why’d you ask me a question if you didn’t expect me to answer? I’ve been taking English as a Second Language for dogs for a couple dog years now. Not that anyone cares.”
“I’m going out for dog cigarettes. I’ll be back soon.”
I knew he wouldn’t. He put on a bowler cap and picked up a tiny bone-shaped suitcase and bumped his nose because the hat fell over his eyes. I ran after him to find a fish-shaped spaceship on the lawn, which I would have expected more out of a cat, but I ran in the spaceship after him. I yelled for Doctor Wiggles but he didn’t answer — turns out it wasn’t his spaceship and now I’m trapped up here with a serial killer.
Star date 420 69.