He’s on the 13th floor of the 5th dimension!


There ain’t no elevator here. No stairs neither. What if there’s a fire? Or some more sinister calamity? I’m just standing there and the klaxon starts screaming at me to get the hell out. Do I jump? I’ll need a window for that then. One that opens. Hopefully opens easy. I guess I could smash it if I had to. Use a chair or a coat-rack or if not that a well placed karate kick. I need to learn karate. Where’s the closest dojo? Good name for a dog that. Dojo. I should get a dog. I could train it to sniff out the smoke when there’s a fire. Do a special bark to warn me. Give me time to steel myself to karate kick out the window. You just don’t throw yourself into something like that. That’s how you get hurt. Pull a muscle, sprain something. Nothing more painful than a high ankle sprain. So I’d take the extra moment Dojo gave me to loosen up. Don’t freak out, stretch out. They should teach that in schools. Good mantra. Solid advice. Prevent a lot of needless injury. Kids these days get a lot more sprains. More than when I was a kid. Rehab costs have gone up too. So that affects everybody. Society and all. What with all the rising prices it’s hard to save a buck. Money in money out. Like piss in a bucket as the old timers would say. Kids would say something different. Probably something about how things are more tubular now. Including prices. A can of ham today is not the can of ham of yesteryear. You can say that again. Can of ham. Where’s the washroom? Usually it’s by the elevators. But then again not always. Toilets have changed too. For the better. That’s for serious. Outhouses used to be all the rage. Where are they now? Not anywhere I do my business. High-efficiency smell-less wonders of modern technology. That’s waste making and disposal in these future prefect times. Kids probably grow up never knowing the stench of a clapboard turd shack. You can’t put a price on that. But if you had to. Gotta be worth at least a couple large. Even a large ain’t as large as it used to be. One thousand ding-dongs now ain’t the thousand buckaroos of the old. Even the words are new. You hear a kid say buckaroo you’re gonna look twice and wonder what went wrong. Now every second word outta their mouth is ding-dong this and ding-dong that. It’s all about the money. That’s one thing that ain’t ever changed. Good to known there’s at least one thing. That and the Indy 500.


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