……

Part 1:

Commute

IMPOSSIBLE SPACE TALES

OF THE LAST PIT STOP

Part 1 of 12

First published online

December 2012

From 21st Century Sandshark

Studios

All stories and characters

Contained within are the

Intellectual properties

Of Dan Nokes

2012

All rights reserved

Welcome to the first installment of IMPOSSIBLE SPACE TALES OF THE LAST PIT STOP! Once again this is me taking a genre I have a soft spot for and creating a homage/critique with it. This time it’s science fiction. Like most kids of my generation, I grew up with the rise and decline of the space program and the rise of science fiction as a respected and commercially viable form of story narrative. Properties like Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who along with such visionaries as Asimov, Bradbury, Verne, and Orwell helped set the landscape and lexicon that any Sci-fi creator draws from in order to weave a tale into existence. Over the past century and a half , we have been presented stories of man stepping out into brave new worlds, meeting new strange alien life and reaching out to the ends of the universe. What happens when aliens are commonplace, when far off worlds are not that strange and intergalactic travel is mundane? Welcome to the world of THE LAST PIT STOP! These aren't the stories of courageous star pilots, cosmic overlords, dashing space pirates, enigmatic time travelers or interstellar peace keeping agents. This is not a story of exploring new planets, making contact with new life forms and finding fortune, glory and enlightenment in the process. These are the tales of those who serve those people their coffee, hot dogs and sweet and salty snacks! Now their stories begin… Please feel free to explore more of THE LAST PIT STOP at www.21sandshark.com or contact me at sandshark# comcast.net! NOW READ ON YA HUMPS!!!! Dan Nokes October 30th 2012

Rachel, Nevada

4:00 am

GOD DAMNIT!

DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIT!

My name is Alan Sheppard..

In less than two hours I have to report to work.

I spend at least a good half hour in

some form of grief- denial.

-1-

About 4:30 I try to assume something

resembling a vertical posture.

Must be a good day! The hot water in the shower managed to last the whole way

through.

And the chlorine aftertaste is at a minimum to boot!

Come on caffeine! I need a 5 second adrenaline happy.

It’s now 5:15am. I should have been

out the door about 15 minutes ago.

But there’s a boner pill infomercial that

manages to supersede my priority list.

5:25am: I’m going to be late. Working on my plan not to be noticed as I try to Sneak through the

front door!

5:30 am: I bid FAREWELL TO my palatial, studio, trailer home my employer has so

graciously provided me, and make my way to work in my late 80’s import hatchback.

that is the ENVY of 3rd desert dwellers the world

over!

I am the world’s most prestigious near minimum wage

slave!

-2-

Larry doesn’t know my name. I’m not allowed to tell him. I just present him

with a thumbscan and he lets me through. The transceiver in my car and in my neck makes sure I’m not swarmed

in by a small squadron of military vehicles and men with pointy, shooty

things.

Morning sir!

Morning Larry!

You’d think that would make me

important.

5:45am: I’m at the first of half a dozen check

points. It will take me at least

15 minutes to clear them all.

I am some sort of wunderkind, science know it all or super

secret, covert agent and the crappy car and

dilapidated motor home is all an

elaborate cover…

You ever watch one of those sci-fi

adventure movies where the hero begins his epic

journey by walking into one of those outer space bars?

The hero meets up with the dashing rogue, the wise

sage and the love interest, along with

some off beat comic relief characters.

Eventually some unsavory elements cause a bar fight

and thus sends our hero headlong into

adventure.

-3-

Well its about half right.

-4-

Well I’m not that hero. I’m just the guy

that works at the bar, or more accurately, a convenience

store

This is what the public at large on earth calls: AREA 51. UFO nuts and pseudo history buffs

love to ramble on about how this is a landing

strip for aliens. Again half right; Nobody ever goes into detail about why they would land here in the

first place.

Its not because of scientific curiosity or

secret invasion. Frankly the rest of

the cosmos does not consider us that

worthwhile.

In Reality: the only reason Extra-

Terrestrials stop here is the only

reason most of us stop at for some

god forsaken back woods hubble in the middle of nowhere.

Gas, cheap food and enough of a

sugar rush to get them the rest of

the way home.

So how did an interstellar “mini mart” land in the middle of the

Nevada Desert? Interesting story really,

But one thing at a time. First some introductions:

Meet Budarnitalgirin Targ.

AKA: BUD

Alan! My all time favorite talking monkey!

You better scatter

before queen bitch-ra of the nether kingdom

spots you!

-5-

I heard that, Targ!

-6-

And for the record, it’s Margaret or

Miss Sumptjay!

So how about we meet half way and

settle for Empress Tightass the First?

The only reason Bud gets away with one liners like

that is because his dad is a high level exec at the

company that owns this dive.

This is Margaret Sumptjay: Assistant

Manager at the last Pit Stop and miss

congeniality Two Thousand and never.

Saved by the bell!

I’ll deal with you in a minute “BUD”.

Mister Grissom! This marks your 3rd tardy in a month.

I’m afraid I will have to write you up and deduct the lost time off your paycheck.

Will this affect my upcoming

“performance Evaluation”?

Do you want a suspension for insubordination,

too Mister Grissom?! Because

I-

That’s enough,

Margaret!

-7-

Hi Portis!

Mister Krax! I was

just-

Save it, Margo. Alan, come

with me.

This is Portis Krax: He’s the general

manager of this fine establishment.

Nice guy. really. Loves to tell people about how he used to be a space cop. Don’t know how much of it to believe though. He means well enough, But I’m not in the mood for the

pep talk at the moment.

Alan, what am I going to do with

you?

You need a plunger for

the thing that

crawled up your

sphincter and died?

Bite me

creep! I don’t think so Margo! That’s

third date territory!

PORT-O-MAX! Can I go on

my smoke break?

Look son, I like you and all. I can

only cover so long though.

I know Portis and I’m sorry.

Here it comes. I can tell by the veins in his eye

stalks he is about to go off on long winded

rant.

In reality, I don’t really care except I don’t want to wind

up getting “’REACLIMATED” like

Mark did last week. I’m getting ahead of

myself…

If this happens again, I

can’t stop Margaret

from suspending

you. Do you really want that,

Alan?

I guess not

Portis.

Look Kid.

I know this ain’t the

swankiest job in the cosmos

but-

Portis! this job is the ulcerating

craphole of the known

universe and you know it!

How is my favorite employee today?

Hey Maylene!

-8-

-9-

And this…This is Maylene DealeBrin! She is probably the biggest reason I still come to this place. She is

the girl next door. Being of course that next door is

Proxima CentaUri.

She’s funny, gorgeous, fun to hang around and I can’t even ask her out

on a date. She can’t leave Area 51 and I can’t

leave earth. So I’m stuck just gawking at

her and making awkward faces from afar.

She’s at this dive part time. mainly to make her way through college.

She’s planning to be an Astro-engineer after

she graduates.

If I’m your favorite employee Portis, then how come

Margo keeps getting Employee of the

standard sub cycle*?

Alan! See you’re late again! New

playbox game or skinamax

marathon?

And you’re 2 hours early. Glutton for punishment?

Good question. Maylene?

* One Standard sub cycle is equivalent to

roughly one earth Month.

Corporate politics. Go

figure!

-10-

But reality starts to settle back in.

She’s probably responsible for the

times I actually smile at this place.

Got midterm exams tomorrow. Gonna

go to the break room to study for a while! See you at 8,

flatface!

It’s a date then!

I’m sure there are those who would love to be in

my place. Would love Knowing we are part of this big, wide community of life in the universe.

In truth, knowing there is life in the universe comes hand in hand with the fact that most of that life is

just as much a big collection of assmonkeys

as here on earth, if not exponentially bigger.

-11-

anyone who has ever worked in the service industry knows that a

good deal of customers tend to treat you with an

moderate to severe entitlement complex

bordering on a servant/master

relationship.

This, I have learned at my five years at THE last Pit Stop, is not a

“Personality Quirk” limited to the human race.

It’s sadly something that

unites the universe in a blanket of

douchebaggery!

There are moments where I’d want to up and quit, But I don’t want to

wind up like Mark or some of the others who were “REACLIMATED “ To

the “Real World.”

Don’t get me wrong! Not everyone that comes across the

counter is a jerk or a pain in the backside.

Some have been nice, if not without incident.

But the D-Bags and the creeps out there at dead end jobs like this tend to stick out and make

the bulk of your “EMPLOYMENT WAR

STORIES.” Everyone in the service field on earth or any other

place in the galaxy has them.

-12-

The big difference is that most of the customers at your local “Food and Gas” don’t see you as an available food source. Our customers Can

Spread bacteria from 3 million light years away that will kill in hours,

have mind control powers or own a car that doubles as an interstellar

star destroyer.

they all seem united in the quest for gas,

sugar crusted confection crap and

quick, bad for you food.

My job is to take their cash, stock the shelves, turn on the

pumps, clean out the bathrooms and occasionally act

enthusiastic about the whole deal.

I am the essentially the keeper of the lamest

secret in the history of the planet earth!

Welcome to The Last Pit Stop! How may I help you?