“Maybe it means how you play a game called Skip. Like the rules or something?”
“That’s stupid. Whoever heard of a dumb game called ‘Skip’? Nope, I just scanned the databases and there was no such game as ‘Skip’. I bet it’s the secret password of some super powerful rich dude from the past and it got lost when the city burned in the Robot wars of 2079.”
“And B-33 is the stupid one? You both must have huffed dingbats for breakfast… it’s obviously the name of a computer system or gaming device or something from the ‘20’s. You know, before everyone went squirrely and launched all their computers into space to try and stop the beginning of the Take Over.”
“Shut up KK-12! You think you’re so smart with your Blue rating…” F-19 pouted and kicked a pile of imported synthetic dirt.
The three kids stared down; the sounds of their custom-fitted bubble suits would have been severely irritating if each of their noise-eliminator sound machines weren’t working overtime.
“I bet it was the name of a secret bomber, something scientists were working on underground to eliminate the robots before they turned on us. Yeah, some cool high tech airplane with a rad pilot with a name like Jet Johnson or Emilio Estevez,” F-19 shot his arms out from his torso and began running with them outstretched as he imagined the planes from the Wiki pages his mom read him as a little boy.
“You’re so childish,” KK-12 said in her best grown-up voice but couldn’t help giggling as F-19 swooped past B-33 and clipped his bubble suit just enough to knock the boy over.
“Hey! That’s not funny!” B-33 screeched from his back, stuck flailing his arms and legs in the air like an upturned turtle. His air-regulator, protein-pack and hydration-kit strapped to his back made it nearly impossible for him to right himself without help.
His two companions yanked the squatty boy up eventually, once they had recovered from a fit of giggles thanks to KK-12 using her new wireless projector to project an image of a cartoon turtle stuck on his back onto the sad form of B-33.
Feeling bad, K-12 and F-19 offered to buy B-33 a mineral enhancer at the corner shop. Using their hover setting, the three propelled themselves past the big man in the big chair and towards town… the origins of the strange piece of paper they had found with the funny writing all but forgotten.
The Not So Fantastic Reality:
The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:
ONE: Do you ever take a moment during what is typically a normal routine or uneventful task and wonder what future generations would think if they saw or found evidence of it? Kind of like how we postulate and make assumptions at what ancient civilizations might have meant when they built the Great Pyramids or the infamous “Mayan Calendar”? Maybe the guys who built the pyramids just wanted to see how big they could build something or maybe the Mayan Calendar that claims the end of the world is this year was just a rough draft, the real calendar having been smashed to smithereens eons ago. I had one of those moments as I spent a day developing a survey in SurveyMonkey. As I tinkered around with different features, formats and settings, I found myself coming back to two little words over and over again, “Skip Logic”. For some unknown reason I just really love those two words together. They seem to me to be part of a lost bit of ancient wisdom, or a haiku or mantra or something… skip logic. If some kids in the future happened to stumble upon my survey in the rubble of a building destroyed by robots, I’d like to think they would be mystified by the meaning of these words, much like I am (and I know what they mean).
Love & Squirrels.