Midnight Pub

Eggcream, Please.

~shufei

Eggcream, Please

A cyborganic young girl sidles to the bar, 
climbs up onto the high stool as a squirrel does
a perch.
Her awkward demeanour belies a stealthy footstep.
The girl opens a blue canvas purse, removes a glowing 
coin, drops it in the kiosk.  The robot barkeep 
spins over, its face a CRT of a Max Headroom 
homage version of George W. Bush.

Um... An eggcream, thanks. Soy milk and heavy on the mit Gass.

Eggcream, not freedomcream, Dubya. But thanks.

The girl closes her eyes.  She sits silently as
The robot mixes seltzer, chocolate, and soy milk.

Thanks, Dubya.

The girl sips at the eggcream, as a 1980’s cybernetic
George W. Bush waits in attendance.

You mixed it well. It has a nice froth and the fizzy is thick. Next time, please use a darker cocoa chocolate?

No, I don’t think so. ... These are the times which try men’s souls. Eggcream is the proof it’s worth it. The proof in the pudding. You grok?

Here’s to Brooklyn, Dubya. That’s what I’m saying. Here’s to Brooklyn. -EOF- .


m15o
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starbreaker

I think I'll try an eggcream myself. And one for Smudge, please, but hold the chocolate on his.

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