“Hot hot hot hot hot hot hot HOTTTTTT!” You can’t help but scream loudly as you leave the Sombrero Galaxy, hit maximum warp, and head straight to the only place that could possibly solve the burning in your mouth. And esophagus. And stomach. And soul. But mostly your upper digestive system.
It’s late, so you pull into the first 24-hour drive through joint you find. Again, the line is at least 10 spaceships long. You had hoped that with the advent of faster than light travel and warp drives, and the expanse of the universe opening up to you like an open book of adventure, lines would be a thing of the past. Shockingly, this has not been the case. In fact, they seem to have gotten worse.
You finally get to the window and pant, “ONE VANILLA SPACE SHAKE, PLEASE.”
The speaker crackles and goes silent. It crackles again. “We… …. …. are… … …”
You check your map and realize where you are. The milky way. So close to home, but also, SO infested with space sloths. Fuck.
“….out… … …of…”
You swallow the taste of jalapeno, brimstone, and battery acid and shout, “I’ll take whatever flavor you have, man!”
Crackle. Pop. Pause. Crackle. “One… … …jalapeno…”
“Wait, wait, ANYTHING but jalapeno!”
Static plays on the speaker for about thirty eons and then a voice returns. “One… chocolate… … …milkshake… … …coming… … …up. That…. … …will… … …be…”
“I’ll pay you anything, just make the dang milkshake man!”
After more excruciating waiting, you pay the space sloth some space bucks, and suck down your chocolate milkshake. You’re pretty sure there’s spit in it, but you don’t give a flying space fig, it soothes your burning tongue. You’re pretty sure you’ll be pooping a mixture of molten lava and antimatter later, but that’s a problem for future you. Right now, you need to get those space tacos to their rightful owners, who you hope either have iron stomachs, or are complete assholes who deserve to replicate what you’ve just been through.
You check the receipt, but it doesn’t have an address. Crap. If only you could remember where they were supposed to go…