From: charles@zip.eecs.umich.edu (Charles Jacob Cohen) Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: QL Rountable: Second Story Message-ID: <1993Jan19.165656.3938@zip.eecs.umich.edu> Date: 19 Jan 93 16:56:56 GMT Sender: news@zip.eecs.umich.edu (Mr. News) Organization: University of Michigan EECS Dept., Ann Arbor, MI Lines: 86 ** ROUNDTABLE: Story 2 ** or ** Oh, what a tangled leap we weave ** A cool breeze and a cheering crowd were the first sensations Sam realized when he leaped in. Taking a look around, he found himself on the top of a flight of steps which led to the airplane he was standing in. Unsure of what else to do, he just stood there and looked down the steps, finding a red carpet lying on the runway below. On either side of the carpet stood reporters and photographers, all battling to get a closer look at Sam from behind the string of secret service agents and policemen. Somewhere nearby, a brass band started playing "Hail to the Chief." In all his confusion, Sam looked back to see the plane he was disembarking from was Air Force 1. "Oh, boy." Sam just stood there, confused. *I'm the President?* he thought. Which one he was he had no idea. Not knowing what else to do, he took a tentative step down as reporters started yelling questions at him. Without warning, Sam hears a high pitched squeal right in front of him. Al is there, and he looks quite worried. "Sam, quick, there isn't much time, you have too..." Sam jerks his head up, surprised not only by Al's appearance, but by his tone of voice. Combined with the the commotion all around him, it was too much for Sam, and he looses his balance. "Aaaaaaaal...." he shouts, as he stumbles down the steps. Grinning from above, Al looks down at Sam. "Nevermind. You did it Sam." Al smiles his all-is-right-with-the-universe grin as he waves goodbye to Sam. As the blue-white light envelops Sam, he frowns, wondering why he was here and what it was he was supposed to do... ...As the bluish white light fades, Sam gets a very sick feeling in his stomach. This time he is clutching the rails of a ladder, and someone in a NASA spacesuit is looking down at him. "Neil, get moving. The whole is watching! And don't forget your line when you reach the bottom." Sam is confused again, trying in vain to figure out what his line is supposed to be. He starts moving down the ladder, and almost pushes himself off because for some reason he is much stronger than before. That is when Sam finally looks around and sees the pitted and cratered surface of the moon. "Oh boy!" "I'm on the moon!" Sam hangs onto the rails as best he can. This is a dream come true for him. He never thought he would get a chance to get into outer space. No wonder why he was unsteady: he weighed only one-sixth of what he was used to. The other astronaut was getting agitated, "Yes, your own the moon. Are you alright? Are you getting sick." "No, no, I'm ...uh...fine." Sam looks around, wondering where Al is. Then again, Al might not be able to reach here. "Okay, Neil, then get going." The astronaut got out of the way and Sam started on his way down. Neil. *Oh boy, I must be Neil Armstrong,* he thought to himself. *What was it that he said? One small step for man, ...I hate my swisscheesed brain!* When Sam reached the bottom of ladder, he looked out over to the camera and swallowed. He knew he had to say something, but he couldn't even remember this historic occasion. Trying not to shake to much, he says in an almost timid voice, "One small step for man." *What now? Al, where are you!* Sam had no choice to make something up, thought for a second and grinned. *It couldn't hurt, and it's almost true...* "One giant leap for mankind." He almost started laughing when his vision got cloudy as he was enveloped in the all to familiar bluish white light. Sam found himself holding a receipt pad in his hand. The pad already had written on it the words coffee and chocolate cake. "Make sure you give me cream with that coffee, babe." *Babe?* Sam looked down at himself, and saw he was wearing a pink waitress uniform. "Oh boy..." -- to be continued by Douglas Renze -- -- "I do not feel obliged to believe that same God who endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect, had intended for us to forgo their use." - Galileo "I'm an engineer, not a dictionary!" - Me