![]() “The biomass thermal conversion station!” Nick reluctantly gave it a test-sit. It was more like a lumpy black sleeping bag with tubes and wires poking out of one end. Uncle Newt pulled the comforter off Nick’s bed and revealed something that didn’t look like a bed at all. “Maybe I’d better come up and explain,” he said. Even Uncle Newt couldn’t miss the disgust on their faces. You haven’t slept till you’ve slept on compost!” “What?” Nick and Tesla said together. (Nick and Tesla had quickly agreed that the first three would “fall down” and “accidentally” “get ripped” at the first opportunity.) “There’s nothing wrong with your beds, and everything right!” Uncle Newt declared. ![]() They’d been distracted-and horrified-by the posters haphazardly stapled to the wall: Teletubbies, Elmo, Smurfs, Albert Einstein, and the periodic table. ![]() Not that Nick and Tesla had paid much attention to them. “What’s wrong with them?” When Uncle Newt had shown them their room earlier, the beds had looked normal enough. Your beds might take a little getting used to.” “Why?” Tesla asked. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |