John Plont scanned the cafe, before joining Harry Pettimoron. He fitted the iv line and sighed. ‘You well?’
Harry frowned. ‘Missus was a bit runky and the mutt had a touch of the dribblets. Busy day.’
‘Yeah? What’s on the job-sheet?’
‘A couple of underwibbling grommoids and another of those leaking photorombollons.’
‘More photorombollons? Nasty buggers. Last one nearly jellied my tooblocket. Helen was dead unimpressed.’
‘I bet. Hadn’t she just had her scroombottles reframbrigated?’
‘Yeah. And her nails done.’
Harry nodded. ‘Colin’s having a management hang-in, see if we can’t get double-wonders next time. Let’s do the photorombollons first, then we can warm our prantiles on Mrs Patterson’s froomdogle.’
‘You think she’ll have some of those refragranced zip-zoomers? I could murder a couple.’
Harry rubbed his stomach. ‘I’ll pass. My orifices are clagging. Come on.’
John released the line, burped and floated after Harry to their truck.
‘So holiday plans?’
‘Oh the usual. We’ve giving the Mother in law to medical research again – they’re taking some cuttings from her hippocampus – and the kids school has organised a Time Warp for their history project before they Build an Alien lifeform at the Other Species camp.’
‘What base material do they use these days? Silicone? Carbon?
‘Zinc-based ginger with a cardamom isotope. You get peace loving bipeds with low flatulence and good posture. We’re here.’
Once the scaffo-magnets were in place they set about sealing the light leak.
‘How did this happen?’ Harry wrestled with the parallel dimension.
‘Office party. Someone snagged the fabric of time with their party heels.’
John steadied the magnets while Harry stitched the hole shut.
‘Doris said we should take a cruise. Jupiter’s good value since they reupholstered its Red Spot. ‘There. Time for a break.’
This was written in response to the latest Microcosms prompt: construction worker, cafe, comedy