ScrambleEggs

A light hung from the ceiling casting a faint yellow among the table. Sam rubbed his chin and took to typing on his electric auto cast type writer. His pace silently roared as his eyes narrowed in focus. Then as soon as he picked up the pace, he slowed, slower and then stopped all together.

He rubbed his chin again and looked up from the holo screen.

His companions sharing the diner were among the following. A space witch who sat in booth three. Her hair swirling black and green, which matched her skin. She was a bit chubby with a pair of big black lips and pure white eyes. She had been sipping on a chocolate molten malt for about an hour. Her head would rest upon her arms as she glanced out the large diner windows.

Beyond her in booth two were a couple. Human it looked like. Decked out in the latest cybernetics, but well dressed in current trend of something from the earths 1960’s. The man who’s skin was the color of rich sand wore a tie, white shirt and black slacks. The women with a tint of purple complexion wore a red sun dress that cut off just above her ankles, which red flats sat on. He had seen them arrive about twenty minutes ago. Each ate a hearty meal, burgers, fries, a wrap or two. He could hear their laughter from time to time.

And the last companion sat at the bar. An android of blue steel. It wore a long brown trench coat and atop of it’s head a matching fedora. Looked like a new model, fresh off the line. Every five minutes it would take a sip of a model O. A tune up drink that was all the rage among the androids. Trends for everyone came and went.

The waitress broke his study.

“Another cup of coffee?” she asked. He looked down, he did not even notice he had finished it among his pondering.

“Why not, thank you” he shrugged and his hands went back to fluttering on the keyboard. What would happen if all these different aliens and machines started to go at it? If once there was a galactic war. Everyone was out for themselves. The machines thought they were the chosen species. Then the gala-syms came out of their terrible dark corner of the universe to also lay stake. In the months following civilizations, whole species explored their military might against each other laying waste to many planets, even galaxies. Suns were destroyed, moons crashed into neighboring planets, Solar storms produced to wipe untold amounts of species from sectors of time and space.

The man kept slamming upon his auto cast. His eyes would flick back and forth from each booth exploring what they would do in this war of his. What would their planets fight with, how would they fight? Could they even stand a chance against the tyranny of others. The battles and skirmishes played out in his mind and he shook his head at the fallen heroes.

The door opened to the diner and a familiar ding rang to him, his eyes instantly shot up to see what new guest had arrived.

Damn.

A man in a gray well pressed suit, fedora on his head and wearing the most stylish glasses one could imagine clip clopped in. He straighted his tie as he looked around at each booth till their eyes met.

Double damn.

“Sam, I thought I would never find you. Looked at all your other regular spots” the man laughed as he approached. He took off his hat and hung it on the hook at the end of the booth then slinked out of his jacket. “How is the manuscript coming?” he said as he sat and pull up the menu on the table.

Sam, the man at the auto-cast stared blankly with his lips pursed. “I was trying to gain some space away from you Jon, but alas here you are, stalking me like always”

“Two weeks over due my friend, tik-tok” Jon pointed to his watch which lit up. “I bought you another month, but let’s face it” The waitress appeared “Coffee, and I will be ready to order in a minute” she left. He continued “But we both know, you need a bit of encouragement to finish up, a bit of a thrill”

“I needed a new location”

“Perfect place” Jon threw up his arms and glanced around “You know how I knew you would be here?”

“No, enlighten me”

Jon leaned forward “Look at his place, it is vintage Sam. Old odd tele-Jukebox over their in the corner, retro seating, food , and a incredible diverse set of customers. And” he turned quickly and looked towards the counter where the waitress was and turned back throwing a thumb back at her “I mean, come on, gorgeous”

Sam rubbed his chin giving a shake of his head. “It’s almost done, I am just filling out some of the middle and then it can be submitted for the final editing, happy?”

The waitress returned with Jon’s coffee “What may I get you”

“I would like a French toast, with a side of toast and sausage links, and just bring some more coffee when you return. We have some work to do”

Jon started to roll up his sleeves and pulled out his own auto cast from his jacket. Sam grit his teeth, but he knew that they would finish and it would be a better day and one step closer to the final publication, but he could not help but feel the anger rise. What he thought and, what he always thought popped into his head.

“Scrambled eggs, please” he frowned peering at Sam,resting in the thought, but like always gave a chuckle. And he let it pass. The typing resumed.

I have seen some pictures of old retro diners in space and I thought that they would always be cool places to hang out. The view from them would be spectacular and you would end up seeing a bunch of different species and aliens in and out. Sam is the sorta of cliché writer, being late on his deadline and thinking un-pleasant thoughts about his editor Jon. He knows that they always work it out, but there is always that ting of anger when bring pursued by the deadline.