All was silent, save for the hum of the tuning fork.
“Do you think we’re dead?” Flerdy asked. “I never believed in the bright light or the tunnel.”
“Shhh. I’m listening to the string drive. You have to switch it off at just the right point. You’re still holding the switch, right?” Borle asked in return.
“Psychological counseling,” Flerdy said. “It’s just a suggestion.”
“On my mark, flip the switch,” Borle said. “Three, two, one, mark.”
With a click the view screen lit with myriad stars and the capacitors roared with the sudden strain.
“What’s your suggestion?” Borle asked sarcastically.
Dergell Dunderspawn pulled his hood over his head and peered through the peep hole on his front door.
“Ow,” he groaned. He’d forgotton about the long nose on his mask again.
Cracking to door, he listened. Nothing moved on the rural highway. He rushed to the VW microbus, cradling a laundry bag in the crook of each arm. Jumping into the van he cursed as he crushed the wings strapped to his back.
Many people made suggestions of how he could get rid of thirty-seven of them, but Dergell thought gifts from the wiener dog fairy was the best idea.