other. One would change some event one way, and then another one would change that same event around another way. It all got so messed up that, in order to protect all the other planets, Fafafalala was surrounded by a timeshield that kept the erratic time effects contained. But anyone inside that timeshield, in this particular case me, would experience a constantly changing past, present, and future.
Yep, things were about to get really interesting.
But they didn’t. Just then the memory I’d been reliving faded back into the blackness of limbo and I was again incorporeal and insubstantial. “Hey!” I shouted out to the void. But can I really shout in a void? Is there anyone or anything else here to hear me even if I do make a sound? Is this like that tree in the woods thing?
Frass. I’m asking questions again. I was never any good at keeping promises either.
But something had to be watching me. Someone must keep making me relive all this crap.
“Hey! Hey you, out there! What happened? Did I get the mark or not?” All I experienced was a lot more of nothing. “Aww, come on. Don’t leave a bug hanging like this. Hey, aren’t I supposed be learning something…or something? How can I learn if I don’t get to the end?”
Then something shimmered in the empty black. It seemed to be coming closer, or growing larger. It was a message, written in old Kacekan, but it was all fuzzy. But, when it had come to fill the entire expanse of nothing around me, the characters came into sharp focus.
“Frass.”
I know you can’t read old Kacekan, and now I wished I couldn’t either. But the message was clear, in hieroglyphics the size of skyscrapers, the one message a good story fan dreads the most, To Be Continued.
“Double frass.”
-Next Time-
Fafafalala, a planet with a constantly changing past, present, and future. It’s not the kind of place anyone would go willingly, but it’s exactly where PeeDee3’s current mark has fled. Dodging dinosaurs, ancient gods, and really bad fast food from the future, the bug’s barely keeping his antennae attached to his head, and his head attached to his thorax.
This mark is no dummy. Even if our universally loathed insectiod assassin survives the ever-changing time lines, he’ll have to face the mark’s very own hired gun, the lethal disco dancing assassin, Convoy Shasta Badself. This time PeeDee3’s four mighty drawing arms look outgunned.
PeeDee3, Episode 5, Fafafalala and Dosido my Eggplant: Part Two
I hope you’ve enjoyed this, the first PeeDee3 story.
If you’d like to learn more about the bug, or me and my other works, please visit:
blogging at:
www.RiftsRants.com
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