Imagine, teleportation. The power to think of a place and then just be there. The cunning ability of Nightcrawler, aka the Marvel character, that allows him to move from one space to another space in a Flash, aka the DC character.
The question is: Where would you like to go today?
My daughter’s brain. Or any other woman’s mind for that matter. As they confuse me.
I imagine that the inside of a woman’s mind looks like the control room or flight deck of the Starship Enterprise. (Jeez, I’m a geek…)
A place that has an enormous collection of buttons and lights and control switches and alarms that no-one fully understands due to a lost instruction manual.
I see a massive HD screen all around, showing the beauty of space, with all the glittering stars and indescribable cosmic beauty, unbeknownst to mortal man. A serene vision of love. And peace. And harmony.
An absolute contradiction of the chaos inside, as the hundred technicians are frantically running around trying to keep all of this afloat in the sky, preventing the vessel from plummeting to earth.
Logic is failing miserably as it tries to steer the vessel through a maze of emotion. PMS sits in a corner, feeling sorry for itself, screaming random violence. The ferociousness of its screams create asteroids storms that shakes the whole spaceship. It normally results in excessive flooding of the bridge when the control valves on the tear ducts fail. In extreme cases the audio also goes haywire and sonic noise can be heard. Sounds that may create flares on the surface of the sun.
The GPS generally doesn’t function properly, but it was never correctly calibrated with a compass as reference. This obvious fact doesn’t stop the Captain from having an opinion about the direction where the ship is going to. Even if it is wrong.
For the most part the environment is peaceful, nurturing, loving and patient. The kitchen is stocked with the sweeter aspects of life. It’s only when the vice-captain wants another beer and promise that it will be his last, that the cook might lose it and reveal Mrs Jeckyl.
Be warned, for Mrs Jeckyl may choose to stay overnight, resulting in a botched close circuit television system with a fuzzy video feed, but definitely no audio feed, throughout all cabins.
And you will have to change Dude’s diaper, irrespective of how severe the hangover might be.
Maybe I don’t need to teleport after all…