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Rated: E · Essay · Fantasy · #1320103
Thoughts on Scientology
10/31/2010
The End of the Industrial Era
Muzzy's Journal.


    Everyone knew the day would come; all fossil fuel was exuasted.
    The wheel of transportation and swung back to the horse and
    buggy. Tall sailing ships once again test their masts on rough seas.
    Hydro-electrict turbines and solar powered battries provided only a
    fraction of what was once a mighty power grid.

    It is a simpler time with smaller commuties. Their is a need for
    more horses. I ride in a rickshaw down Main Street in down
    town Portsmouth with my slave girl Penelope. I purchased her
    with my chickens. I have taken to raising chickens and selling
    their eggs in the town square.

    The rickshaw is pulled by a sturdy lassie. Erin Go Brah is tatooed
    to her back. She has forsaken her blouse on this hot humid day,
    pulling her rickshaw bare chested. A very proud lassie. Penelope,
    a petite spanish girl of 22, chatters on about Scientology. She
    believes she will empower herself on my chicken farm. I promiss
    to teach her how to read english after her chores.

   
    I ask the rickshaw lassie to stop at the @Rusty Hammer and waite.
    It's time for some ale; I place my slave girl at a table and order some
    tomatoe soup and orange juice for her. The severing wench is a wild
    gypsy, who answers to Ghidora. Her raven hair and firey Romanian
    eyes beckon to me. I ask the barkeep if I may purchase the gypsy
    with my basket of chickens. He agrees. The gypsy' temperment                   
    has led to many fights amongst the men folk and ladies.

   
    Upon leaving the @Rusty Hammer with my slave girls, I discover
    with amazement my Scottish rickshaw lassie bathing in the horse
    troth; with several men folk assitting her, pumping water and
    scrubbing her with bars of soap. "Here now! That's my transportation!"
    My plea is answered with jeers, "She needed a good scrubbing down!"
    It was several hours before the men folk finished their civic duty.
    I had time for some more ale.

 
    Such is the simple life at the end of the industrial era. I must enquire
    about this Scottish lassie; perhaps a wagon of pumkins will secure
    her price.

:)
     

   
   
   
   
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