Sheffield Community Centre
Pavonis Arcology, Mars
10-11-2022 – 11ish UTC
-Beep—Beep- -Beep-
“Yes, yes, the Toyota parts go to the left of the Mazda parts,” Alex called out. He muttered “Geez, what was he thinking he could do with all of these random pieces of car?”
“Sir!” a voice interrupted his musing. He looked up for the voice and found a speaker in the ceiling. “The Colonial Movers ship just called into Wells! They’ll arrive with the next load in about half an hour!”
Great, he thought. And we still haven’t finished with the last one. After this one it’ll be... he figured the numbers up in his head and winced …five down, eighteen to go. This guy hoarded more shit than the Mole Man.
Still…
Alex frowned when he saw a foxgirl – an anime-style kitsune, not an anthromorph - fiddling with an 80s boombox with a built-in TV on one of the folding tables. “Sheila? What are you doing?”
The brunette vulpine biomod turned around. “Oh! Hey, Commander. I noticed this little beauty in the non-working heap, but I’m pretty sure I can make it work again. Looks like the only problem is some wires. I think a rat got to it.”
He perked up a little. “Well, if you can fix it then it’ll go up in value. I’ll make a note that you get a percentage of the sale if you can.”
She grinned sheepishly. “I was actually thinking about keeping for myself, sir.”
And the kitsune biomod’s ‘Oooh, Shiny!’ quirk strikes again. “Sheila, I made a point of saying several times when we started unpacking and sorting all of this that no one can just keep what they want-“
She interrupted. “I was gonna pay the listed price for it.”
He continued, speaking more firmly. “-But That They Had To Wait Until The Fleamarket.” He sighed. “We may have been able to buy the whole lot on the cheap, but it was still a pretty penny when combined with the cost of shipping it here.”
Her ears flattened against her head and her bushy tail lowered itself between her legs as she adopted a chastened expression. “Yes, sir.”
His left eye twitched slightly. Even in a nineteen year old’s body, it’s still weird for an octogenarian to look so cute. “Just wait until the fleamarket. It’s not like you can’t be one of the first people in line, you know.”
“Colonial Movers ship Picon, now arriving!” the intercom announced.
“Aaaand it’s back to work,” he sighed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: In case anyone was curious, if the Colonial Movers shipis like the one in the reimagined series then it carries six standard ISO containers. That means that there are ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY EIGHT containers of hoarded junk being imported from Earth to Mars for the fleamarket.
Pavonis Arcology, Mars
10-11-2022 – 11ish UTC
-Beep—Beep- -Beep-
“Yes, yes, the Toyota parts go to the left of the Mazda parts,” Alex called out. He muttered “Geez, what was he thinking he could do with all of these random pieces of car?”
“Sir!” a voice interrupted his musing. He looked up for the voice and found a speaker in the ceiling. “The Colonial Movers ship just called into Wells! They’ll arrive with the next load in about half an hour!”
Great, he thought. And we still haven’t finished with the last one. After this one it’ll be... he figured the numbers up in his head and winced …five down, eighteen to go. This guy hoarded more shit than the Mole Man.
Still…
Alex frowned when he saw a foxgirl – an anime-style kitsune, not an anthromorph - fiddling with an 80s boombox with a built-in TV on one of the folding tables. “Sheila? What are you doing?”
The brunette vulpine biomod turned around. “Oh! Hey, Commander. I noticed this little beauty in the non-working heap, but I’m pretty sure I can make it work again. Looks like the only problem is some wires. I think a rat got to it.”
He perked up a little. “Well, if you can fix it then it’ll go up in value. I’ll make a note that you get a percentage of the sale if you can.”
She grinned sheepishly. “I was actually thinking about keeping for myself, sir.”
And the kitsune biomod’s ‘Oooh, Shiny!’ quirk strikes again. “Sheila, I made a point of saying several times when we started unpacking and sorting all of this that no one can just keep what they want-“
She interrupted. “I was gonna pay the listed price for it.”
He continued, speaking more firmly. “-But That They Had To Wait Until The Fleamarket.” He sighed. “We may have been able to buy the whole lot on the cheap, but it was still a pretty penny when combined with the cost of shipping it here.”
Her ears flattened against her head and her bushy tail lowered itself between her legs as she adopted a chastened expression. “Yes, sir.”
His left eye twitched slightly. Even in a nineteen year old’s body, it’s still weird for an octogenarian to look so cute. “Just wait until the fleamarket. It’s not like you can’t be one of the first people in line, you know.”
“Colonial Movers ship Picon, now arriving!” the intercom announced.
“Aaaand it’s back to work,” he sighed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: In case anyone was curious, if the Colonial Movers shipis like the one in the reimagined series then it carries six standard ISO containers. That means that there are ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY EIGHT containers of hoarded junk being imported from Earth to Mars for the fleamarket.
“In politics, stupidity is not a handicap.” – Napoleon Bonaparte
“They opened up a can’a dumbass!” – Jon Stewart regarding Fox News, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself.” – Harvey Fierstein
“They opened up a can’a dumbass!” – Jon Stewart regarding Fox News, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself.” – Harvey Fierstein