Song Stories: The Mechanic

The chicken and the beans were a little old – three days to be exact.

“But I have to eat them quickly and rush back to the device,” the Mechanic proclaimed heroically to the empty kitchen.  “I can’t fall beneath her standards now.” The buzz from the microwave hummed loudly for the 3.33 minutes it took to reheat the food.  Its power was set to ten, his determination was set to an all-time high of nine.

“Being properly nourished is essential for this type of work,” she had told him his first day on the job. And she was serious.  Very serious.

“How could I say no to the woman I worked for, lived for, researched and experimented for?”  He reached his grease-stained hands into the microwave and collected the painfully hot dinner plate from within.  I would never say no to you. 

With that thought firmly implanted in the part of his brain that rejected the sad display of cuisine before him, the Mechanic gingerly (yes – gingerly) impaled the sad, floppy chicken pieces with his fork and consumed the food with a sense of purpose.

The device was almost ready.  She would be pleased with his speed, his intelligence, his virility. 

She will touch the sides of my hips and pull me to her.  We’ll crank up the music and dance together- perhaps even inside the device.  We may even turn it on and accelerate to the next level of our project.  YES!  Success would be unintentionally triggered by our newly discovered passion for each other. 

He chewed the rubbery chicken in a daze.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked from the hallway.

“Fantasizing,” he said with a goofy grin. A shred of chicken had attached itself to his chin, and in the process robbed him of any shred of charm.

Her eyebrows raised higher than the average person as she gazed on the small man sitting before her.  His stained green overalls emitted a strong odour – a unique blend of his sweat and the highly illegal liquid she had recently acquired after breaking several laws and one innocent mind.  She took two strides and entered the room.  She stared at her mechanic until his eyes met hers.

A laser-strong glare singed easily through three ideas he had been developing for the device.  In addition to this loss, a large fragment of his manliness dislodged itself from his groin and floated above his head just out of reach.

“Well, when you’re ready get back to work.  The Stranger is coming soon. We must be prepared. ”  She turned and left the room abruptly.

The Mechanic swallowed the paste of his over-masticated mouthful of chicken and stood up.  He dumped his dirty dishes into the sink and shoved some duct tape into his tool belt.  He glanced back at the darkened doorway and sighed.

“Another time.”

The Mechanic opened the back door, stepped out into the yard and approached the giant, glowing orb nestled in the pristinely trimmed grass.

Today was the day he would get things done.

Story by P.Barker

This story was inspired by the song The Science Fiction, by Hefner.

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