Saturday, February 23, 2019

Lincoln's Little House on the Prairie …



Today is Saturday, the 23rd of February 2019.

Llama is calling from Illinois.

Tell me more about your Queen Sieglinde I., I can hear Kylie purr in the background.

Yes, I, Bromford Bibble, can hear her say that. I, Bromford, the man who is called like the town, I am answering the phone myself. No more messengers. No more false perspectives.

What happened to the messenger, the llama asks.

The messenger was only an androided answering machine. Some may call it a glorified voice recorder. I took it to my workbench in the basement the other day and turned it back into the vacuum cleaning machine it used to be before your journey, animal. At the moment it is cleaning the living room in long, flat circles, good, little robot it is.

Sounds like you have become a crazy, little professor with a secret lab in the basement, dude, improving and inventing things.

Ah, shut up. Who is Kylie talking to in the background?

That is her new beau, the llama says. Do you remember that narrator from that lecture about American history last Sunday? Fake American history, if you want my opinion.

My dear animal, a dark and dull voice says. I heard you say 'American'. May I correct you? It must be 'New Indian' history.

Hey, I ask, what is going on? I thought that was only the narrator in an educational film.

Oh, no, that bloke is a real and annoying person. He was there in person, not only on tape. Kylie invited him to come with us. And he simply cannot stop lecturing.

Watch your mouth, my dear animal, the male voice demands, or God will not allow you to his spaceship when he will come to rescue us from this planet.

Bromford, the animal says, I have to go now. Looks like Kylie found herself another weirdo we have to get rid of.


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