Optional Insomnia and Portable Mazes

Sleep was a bad habit I wasn't going to let myself get into. Around me sat the slumped bodies of my fellow beings, who had decided they'd leave reality for a while because it wasn't much fun. Hangovers - the things that punished you when your mum wasn't around to do it any more (although for some unfortunate folk their mothers were still around, so they got double punishment). Despite my mind rebelling against my body, or my body rebelling against my mind... (probably both), I staggered back towards my ship. I was in no fit state to drive, but if I didn't move my ship some of the planetary yobs would come and graffiti over it. No matter where in the galaxy you went, whatever planet you visited, there were always a group of people who enjoyed annoying you in any conceivable way possible.

"QUIET!" I yelled to the ship. Why is it that when you're hungover every sound seems like it's been amplified 10 fold? I slouched in my chair and mindlessly pressed the buttons I'd added to my ship to make it look cooler. None of them did anything useful, but I liked buttons - especially when you don't know what said button did. Also, having millions of buttons made it look like the ship was complicated to fly, when really you could do it when you were... well in the state I was in.

I stood up and sauntered down the silver walkways that spiralled round my ship. The thing I had in mind when I was designing this ship was a metal spaghetti maze - which I think I accomplished rather well. The walkways twisted and turned, got thicker and thinner and plunged suddenly down or up at alarming gradients that were only scalable if you were wearing the right shoes. Occasionally there were secret doorways into other parts of the ship, disguised as nondescript walls or architecture (or disguised as doors... because sometimes people expect a plain wall to contain a secret passageway). The corridors were littered with gadgets, devices and machines I had picked up along my travels. Somewhere in the ship there was a robot that could pass through solid matter. Sometimes I was walking around and it would appear, shooting through the walls. The robot was called Jeremy and it was completely useless at doing anything productive. It just sped around the ship all day, sporadically startling me and making me drop whatever substance I happened to be drinking that day.

I was a lover of drinks - different drinks, unusual beverages, strange mixes of things that shouldn't be consumable. On Flaxicon 56 I'd discovered an amazing machine that could make millions of different drinks just by the press of a button (woo buttons). I'd set it to random, so every time I felt thirsty I could get a small surprise.

I greatly enjoyed surprises and the unexpected - if things were predictable then life wouldn't really be worth it, would it? If you knew exactly what was going to happen at every moment you wouldn't want to experience it, because it'd just be boring. It's like when you're reading a book and someone spoils the ending - it's just no good any more. Unfortunately, when you mess with time travel, endings get wrecked quite a lot - a prime example of this is dead Steve. Steve is a well known guy on my home planet. On one of our holiday gatherings a few years back, he drank several somethings in such a combination that he underwent spontaneous combustion. Needless to say, he died. But because he's a time traveller, we still see him around now and again - his younger self that is. The Universe is a gossipy place, so it didn't take long for Steve to find out how he died... or was going to die... (depending on your point of view). I spoke to him a little while after he found out about his death - I'd never seen him so depressed. The surprise had been ruined.

...Mind you in hindsight that could've been because he didn't want to die any time soon rather than being narked about the lack of a surprise. So maybe that was a bit of a rubbish example, but still, you get what I mean, right?

I found a star that was about to go supernova, and pulled out one of those fold down plastic chairs. Nothing like the destruction of a solar system to help cheer you up and cure a hangover.

The End

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