Mr. Flinch Is Coming For Dinner
By Mikael Persson

Tom 96 stopped the Delta Glider in the heart of sector T and turned to his colleague Peter 69.

“Unit 75, here it is, huh?”

“Yeah. Let me see, Mrs Muriel Sugarbridges, widow.  Hmm, insubordination.”

“Some people never learn.” Tom 96 said with a chuckle.

The two police officers climbed down to the surface, locked their vehicle and adjusted the belts on their latex suits.  Since it wasn’t a red alert situation – for now - they didn’t use their master key but rang the doorbell instead.  A stocky built, pink haired old lady opened and after viewing them from head to toe, beamed at the police officers.

“Good evening Madam, we are police officers number 69 and 96 from the Metro Division of Everything In Good Order – EGO.” Tom 96 said.

“Please do come in, won’t you,” she said and shook their hands in an almost painful grip, “please step into the kitchen, I was just preparing meatballs.”

“Yes, Madam, that might have a connection with the reason we are here,” Peter 69 said as they followed her, “our scanner sensors have registered organic food here in your habitat unit, which would be strictly forbidden since according to our files Madam, your family line is sponsored by Basturmate Nutrition Incorporated. Their quality laboratory products should be quite sufficient for you.”

“Yes, of course. I know.” The old lady said with a sweet smile.

“Preparing meatballs you said?” Tom 96 asked. “You don’t have anything organic in them, do you? You know the punishment – we would hate to disintegrate you.”

“Oh boys boys! You have nothing to worry about! Here, try a couple of my meatballs and tell me what you think!”

“Mmm! They are very…I mean they taste adequate!” Tom 96 said.

“A bit dry maybe, and too salty!” Peter 69 said.

“Too salty? Just a twinkling boys, I have the perfect cure for that!” The lady said and opened the carbon dioxide cupboard. A clinking and rattling was heard from behind its door.

“Preparing something to drink, are you? Please hurry!” Peter 69 said.

“Here boys, wash my meatballs down with some home made barium soda!”

Both police officers drank their tankards down to satisfy their thirst.

“Ahh! Very nice. Homemade did you say?” Tom 96 asked.

“Yes. My Grandma’s recipe. Let me get you boys a refill! You don’t taste something like this every day, do you boys?”

“It’s good, although it has a rather bitter aftertaste.” Peter 69 said and yawned.

“Ah, yes well, I did put a little something in it for you to sleep on.”

“No, you silly old…silly old you!” Tom 96 said. “We’re not allowed to sleep for another fortnight!”

“Yes, you do look exhausted, boys. You really deserve to sleep!”

“But it won’t be nice for you when we wake up.” Peter 69 said as he tried to lift his arm but found that he couldn’t.

“You will never wake up, boys. But I will treat you with love and respect.”

As the police officers felt their heads beginning to nod and their bodies getting numb, they could feel the old lady poke and pinch them.

“Yes, you’re so young and tender,” she said, “you’ll be much better meatballs than the old and constipated officers that called at my door yesterday. And I do want to make a good impression. You see boys, Mr Flinch is coming for dinner!”

Mikael Persson is an industrial worker who loves to read and write in the English language, and his aim is to make a living on his writing one day. Seven of his stories have been published so far, in Dream Forge, The Cynic Online Magazine, Long Story Short and Uptown Books Chapbook series.  Contact Michael.
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