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Intergalactic Refrigerator Repairmen Seldom Carry Cash [MultiFormat]
eBook by Tom Gerencer
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$0.49 |
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50% |
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50% |
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eBook Category: Science Fiction/Humor
eBook Description:  A secret vampire? A Celtic Princess? Three mighty dragonslayers with magic helms of gleaming light? Well, no, actually, it's just a funny story and something hideous comes out of an olive jar. Gerencer's first published work is a comic wild ride through the vagaries of kitchen appliances and their care and upkeep. Includes lamb-tongue, malfunctioning arms, and an inordinate amount of chewing gum.
eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: The Orphic Chronicle, 1998
Fictionwise Release Date: December 2005
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [148 KB], eReader (PDB) [20 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [6 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [7 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [70 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [76 KB], hiebook (KML) [74 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [31 KB], iSilo (PDB) [5 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [7 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [35 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [13 KB]
Words: 1870
Reading time: 5-7 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
 
"The trouble with the still point of the turning world," said the intergalactic refrigerator repairman, adjusting a thing which he had assured me was an extremely volatile and portable hyperspatial wormhole but which looked, to me, like a large lump of hamburg, "is that the second you step off it, you get creamed."
I decided to take this statement on faith, and I handed him the seven-dimensional screwdriver he was gesturing for with one of his many arms.
"Thank you," he said, mopping his brow. "What I mean, of course, is that you should never, under any circumstances, assume anything."
"I hardly ever do," I told him, and he pulled a raw chicken out of his pants.
This, I am sorry to say, is the way it is with intergalactic refrigerator repairmen, or so I assume, having only met the one. But he assured me that they were all pretty much the same, and I had no reason to doubt him, what with his having just materialized in the center of my kitchen and asked if this was Strothterix, and if, furthermore, I was a Mr. and Mrs. Zug.
When I had told him that I was not, and that he must therefore have made a wrong turn somewhere, he had shrugged (which, I can tell you, was something to see on a man with several shoulders) and had asked if I had a refrigerator. When I'd pointed to my five-year-old Hotpoint he'd clapped several of his hands together and said, "Ooh! Can I look?"
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