It’s alarming to find yourself awakened by flashing lights, no pun intended. You first think FIRE! But soon you find there is no smoke, no crackling and no flicker in the darkness. Still, the constant red, white, red, white bores into you and in your sleepiness you fish for another reasonable explanation. Coppers? Have they finally caught up with me for all those sins I committed when I was in my teens? Will I finally be locked up for lighting afire the manure filled bags on poor Mrs. Plurd’s front stoop? But then you feel slightly faint as your features in the mirror dissolve and you next find yourself in a comfy chair, strapped in for speedy travel.
“Where the hell are we goin” I asked at 130 decibels or so.
“Mars” came the reply; “Your mother wants a word with you!”