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Lunacy: Sleepless


  09:20:00 am, by Nic Wilson   , 611 words  
Categories: Lunacy

Lunacy: Sleepless

Paul slept God-awfully. Of course, that might have had something to do with spending the last year sharing his bed. Or the fact that Ken wouldn't leave the room.

?I swear, I don't know how to sleep without her,? Paul said.

?You'll learn,? Ken said. ?But NASA doesn't do conjugal visits. Not my idea, I'm afraid. But after one of the ISS astronauts caught a case of syphilis from a hooker that didn't show on his labs until he was on the station... well, that mistake cost us millions, because previously we didn't keep enough Penicillin G in space for the high dosage he needed. I suppose that?s moot, as we would have had to space taxi him down anyway.?

?Though we might never have known; he only got diagnosed after he gave a pretty hilarious lecture to an eighth grade science class. You ever seen a man try to explain evolution while in the grips of the advanced stages of syphilitic madness? I have. I'll upload the video to your drive on the Phallus.?

?So you're going to keep calling it that, then? You?re never going to call it the Perseus, are you?? Paul asked.

?It's not my fault our interplanetary ark looks like a dick. How could I call it anything else? And the preliminary drawings were even worse. It had balls.?

?They were storage pods, that could be ejected-?

?After ejaculation??

?After they'd been used up. It's just a bit weird to me that our ground controller isn't going to even acknowledge the official name of our ship. Isn't that some kind of bad luck??

His grin faded. ?In my years, the only thing I've noticed as consistently bad luck is mentioning luck, period.?

?I'd knock on some wood, but our little love bungalo seems to be constructed entirely out of space-age plastics.?

?And asbestos. But only because I refuse to let them gut this place. And if you need some wood...?


?But it's hardwood,?

Paul sighed. ?The sick thing is, I'm actually going to miss this.?

?My penis??

?Well, talking about your penis. Though saying that out loud, I'm not sure that's any better.?

?Everything's better with my penis.?

?I'm going to Mars in the morning. So why is it I can't think of anything other than the girl I'm leaving behind??

?Because she has nice tits??

?She does, at that, and I'm sure in the coming months, I'll miss them. But I really don't think it's as simple as that.?

?You know, I caught hell, when I first suggested we weed out candidates who were married. But when we looked at the stats, we saw an increase- basically, candidates with a lousy home life put more into the job, and performance showed it. Especially outside the atmosphere- people without a home don?t get homesick so easy.? 

?Then we started weeding out people who were in long-term, committed relationships. That we had to be quieter about, using private investigators to dig into people?s trash and things like that. Had you been a thing with Laura when you joined up, we would have bounced you. Hell, if I?d found out before you made the primary team, I?d have personally told you to cut her loose or lose your slot.?

Ken sighed. ?You aren't making a mistake,? he said. ?Twenty-two year olds come and go, or, if they're at my place, they come and come and go. But space, she's the dream girl.?

?You've jerked off to space, haven't you??

?You haven't? An astronaut who hasn't pleasured himself to mistress space? If anything's bad luck...? he trailed off.

?Knock on wood?? Paul asked.

Ken grinned. ?I already was.?

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