Another perfect day, one of the few days when I am spared slave labor in the Uranium mines on Pluto, and it was ruined.
“Are you just going to waste your entire day rotting your brain on Saturday morning cartoons?” Queen Shimá asked. She stood in the portal, her hands on her hips. “You need to do something, not just sit like a plotted plant.”
“But Mom,” I said, “’Creepy Critter’s Criminal Capers’ is my favorite!”
“It’s a sunny day out there. Go play outside.”
“It must be fifty below. I’ll freeze my boy parts off.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that, young man.”
“Aren’t any of your friends around?”
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