This Coffee Mix is soo delicious, thought Spongeberg Resident just off Route 13. Think I’ll have another while I’m here.
“Spare some change for a handicapped person?” spoke Roth Voomer sitting in the phone booth beside him.
“Oh,” exclaimed Spongeberg. “Didn’t see you there, man.” He sets down the now empty can on top of the machine and starts digging around his pockets for smaller change than what he was going to buy his next drink with. “Nickel okay?” He drops the coin at his feet. Roth is understandably disappointed. Sensing this, Spongeberg digs some more. “And this… dime. That’s all I have.” Another drop. He then inserts the two quarters in his other hand and retrieves his second Coffee Mix drink from the machine.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong with me?”
Spongeberg gives him another glance. “Errr… no,” and turns around to leave.
“It’s my hands.” Roth rolls up his sleeves. “Or the lack of such. Here. Take a look.”
Curious, Spongeberg turns back to the figure. He’s rarely seen handicapped people here in His Second Lyfe and wonders why avatars would do such a thing to themselves.
“Oh. Yeah. That is unfortunate.” He starts to explain how things work in this place, and you can simply switch shapes to get the new hands. But Roth interrupts him, guessing what he’s going to say.
“Can’t do it; don’t ask.”
“Don’t ask what?”
“About the body.” Roth heaves a sigh. “I’m *stuck*”.
In a little bit, they start to actually become friends. Spongeberg shares the last 1/2 of his drink with him, putting opening to lips when requested. For, you see, Spongeberg was stuck himself. He’d made a mistake, he owned up to Roth, in coming back to His Own Second Lyfe and trying to make a new start in the remnants of Mystenopolis just down Route 13. He pointed down the highway from whence he came in saying this. So he’s heading over to the big airport he’s heard about on Route 14 on the opposite coast to catch a plane back to Whitehead Crossing. He explained his health is not good over here, not good atall, because, you see, he keeps *dying*. Happened just yesterday on the side of the road, he furthered. So he’s getting out of here. “Just have to go up the new road connecting Route 13 on this side of the peninsula with Route 14 on the other side,” he informed. Spongeberg then decides to ask Roth if he wants to accompany him on the trip. “Since I’m healthy in Whitehead Crossing,” he said, “maybe you can get back your hands in same. Maybe it’s… fate we go together up that road to the big airport. And… maybe even others will join us. A band. Traveling up and then down the road, over the mountainous spine of the peninsula. What wonders we might see.”
But there was basically nothing on the road. And the airport didn’t have any flights going from Second Lyfe to Real Lyfe atall. Still handless Roth then says goodbye and thanks for the effort, but Spongeberg had already died again and didn’t hear him.