“I have a few questions for these guys. There are some very specific things I want to ask,” the Dad said. He drove up the icy mountain roads, taking the turns too fast. “What are you going to ask them?” Benj said.

“I want to find out what they discovered that we don’t know. Don’t tell me that they haven’t found a cure for death yet.”

“A cure for death?” his wife Mildred laughed. “You’re going to ask them that?”

“Why not? That’s the first thing I’m going to ask them, as a matter of fact.”

“They won’t know,” Benj said.

“How do you know? What makes you the expert? I’m serious. Sure, we’ll get to space travel and all that but first let’s get the eternal life thing solved.”

“I saw them first so I am the expert.”

“Alright Mr. Expert, why wouldn’t they be able to give me that information?”

“Because they don’t want you to live forever.”

“Oh, Jeez, thanks a lot! I’m sure you put a good word in.”

“Honey, stay on your lane.”

“I am. I am.”

They drove a little while in silence, Benj staring out at the snowy meadows and the barren trees. His sister Allie was fast asleep beside him.

“I just want to know what they’re doing here. What do they want from us?” Mildred said. “They don’t want anything from you,” Benj said.

“Jesus, Harold! Slow down!” Mildred said to the Dad. “Millie, I know this road like the back of my—.” And just then the car swerved on some black ice and sailed over the embankment, tumbling down the hill.

Bruised and scuffed-up, but holding hands, Benj and Allie walked up the country road as the snow came down. “What about Mommy and Daddy?” asked Allie. “We’ll have to come back for them,” Benj said. Allie glanced back to where a plume of dark smoke rose up from the bottom of the hill.

When they finally reached the clearing at the top of the mountain they were greeted by about ten green floating blobs.

Harold and Mildred woke up in a blue chamber with trembling walls that appeared to be made out of jello. They got up from a blue, sticky floor and stood unsteadily. “The kids!” Mildred said suddenly, grabbing Harold. They looked around them, seeing vague shapes through the jello walls. There did not appear to be a door. Through the translucent jello, they saw four silhouettes bouncing along and recognized the voice of their son. “Videogames,” he was saying. “That’s what we use…” but the figures got further and further away.

“Benjamin!” Harold shouted. He rushed over but when he put his hands on the wall they sunk into the jelly-like substance. “Hey,” he said. Then he pushed his way through the wall. Mildred did the same and soon they were both running down the hall, bouncing slightly on the rubbery surface of the floor.

When they finally found their children, the kids were bouncing around in a pool of pink liquid, playing pool volleyball against a couple of green floating blobs.

It wasn’t long before the parents were reclining on rubbery lawn-chairs, sipping on purple margaritas served by orange floating ectoplasms. They watched their kids play and splash in the pink goo. “Hey, I could get used to this,” Mildred said.

“I know,” agreed Harold. “It really isn’t half bad. And the blob said that drinking this will make you live forever. So were golden.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Mildred said. “We’re golden.”



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