The Waltzing Mathilde Archives
August 8, 2007
She always sat alone, in as near to a corner as anyone could find in a room carved out of the interior of an asteroid by a ball borer.
The bartenders knew to keep ‘em coming until last call, when they drew straws to see who would lift her back to her boat.
It was finally Pinky’s turn one Saturday night. He had a powerful curiosity about her, was actually looking forward to the duty, despite her godawful stench. Well, that is until he saw the inside of her boat.
We had to ship Pinky back Mars-side in a box