Announcement 1:

Earsian Zombies and Dim Sum

She was going to hell. Well, she didn’t usually think of heaven, hell, limbo, or any other form of afterlife, but if she did, she would probably feel like she was hell-bound.

The planet of Mars was one of the closest to Earth, and so many Martians were able to get the first picks on the salvageable remains. What does this have to do with her, you may ask? She worked at a store selling corpses.

Since stone was highly in demand throughout the Solar System, sculptors needed to work with new materials. The bodies piled up on Earth worked well for them, if not better than any other resource.

The Theocracy of Jupiter naturally objected, saying it was inhumane and frivolous. Most of the governments listened to their spiritual leader, and so a ban of body selling was enforced in all of the planets but two: Mars was the most abundant of the dead.

And so she, the apprentice to a department store chain owner, had to wheel products (corpses or not) to and from store locations. Today she was carting 10 bodies to the main store to be put up on display. She didn’t really protest to this practice, for she needed the job, or else she’d fail in this…dog-eat-dog world that was Mars.

The sun beamed at her as she ran as hard as she could with ten frozen chunks of ice strapped to her in a heavy metal vault. The Main Store was at least 2 more kilometers, and she needed to get them there in approximately 2 hours, so the pace was mandatory. Sweat ran down her forehead at a profuse rate, but her level of exhaustion was miniscule. She got used to this after a while, and eventually she gained a tiny respect from her coworkers. Yet she still only worked there for 3 years, and for her, failure was not an option at this point.

She took a stop to rest. Despite her almost inhuman endurance, she could not run forever. When she took herself back to running, she felt a weight slightly lift from her back; she stopped immediately. Heading to the back of the vault, she saw her problem. Three of the bodies had fallen out of the security of the cool safe.

Anger consumed her. Not only did she have to somehow lift the bodies back into the vault, but she had to make a report on the situation in case damage was brought to the bodies. As she got out her notepad and her pen, she noticed the corpses a little closer. They were all preserved in ice from the Earth, and none had been removed from caskets, but the thought that all of them had a life before almost made her sad. Some of them loved…some of them loved their life…some loved everything. To think that know all those that had a respectful life before were now the object of entertainment to the unruly masses of the present day sickened her.

Shrugging it off, she stood by one of the chunks of matter, she slapped the notepad on it, and began writing the damage report. As she began to finish writing her signature, she suddenly felt her notepad getting wet. Looking to the side, she saw the never-melting ice, melting in the sun, despite the fact that none of the other bodies were melting. Many thoughts rushed through her mind, but once the ice had finally melted, and when she saw that body twitch, she knew what she had to do; she locked that sucker in the fridge she had to yank around just to make a little bit of money and a stinking reputation.

It’s interesting how food in America is compared to other countries. The food is a mixture, a hybrid, a mutant of other countries cuisine. In a way it’s comparable to cultures, ethnic groups, etc. Me, I’m not a personal fan to some of these mutants. In fact, people generally called me a picky eater. The question most people would be asking me is why the hell was I in a Chinese Restaurant about to eat things I’d rather use as a fertilizer than consume as a delicacy.

No offense to the people who love these kinds of dishes. I just can’t stand vegetables, soy sauce, all that stuff. It’s not just Chinese food though; Mexican, French, and even sometimes Italian, I am just not a purveyor of foods.

You all probably just want me to get to the point though. Well, I was here to meet some people. Not just some people though. Friends.

The area of the restaurant smells of Orange Chicken, and the theme colors are Black and Red and White, almost like checkers. I see the booth with my friends in it. King me.

Maybe I’m trying to avoid the topic. After all, I’m here to pressure my friends into telling me what’s going on between them, and why they’re giving me the cold shoulder. They casually wave at me and call my name, and I go over.

“Hi guys…”

“You got to try this Dim Sum, it’s delicious!” One of my friends point to this random dish filled with vegetables, meats, and buns. It looks hideous, but I try a bite of it to not seem impolite. The Dim Sum’s horrendously gross, and I reach for a glass of water, trying to drown the taste out of my mouth.

“So…are you guys prepared to tell me the truth?”