Page 55 - Jeremiah Lollipop
P. 55
Meanwhile, up above, the Flooble was looking at the screens and
thinking about profit margins, and the cost of transport and how many of
these protein bundles called humans he could stack in his cargo room.
“I’ll make a fortune!” he chuckled, “This is protein gold! This is like
having a meat well in the back yard! I can just about smell those
Smackeroos now!”
He paced up and down in excitement, almost tripping over on his own
tentacles. There was just one thing that bothered him. All the tests he
had run were coming up with good results, but he had, in two past
occasions, discovered protein that was top quality, but held a hidden
poison. Before he was absolutely sure, he would have to run a few more
tests.
He brought the dish-shaped machine down and tuned into the human
brain of Jeremiah’s dad, who slept on peacefully.
On the screen a picture formed. Newspapers. Hundreds of pages of
newspapers. Headlines. Adverts. Pictures. Cartoon strips. Newspapers
day after day. Years of newspapers.
“Nothing to worry about there,” said the Flooble.
He tried the brain of Jeremiah’s mum.
On the screen this time he saw humans crying, shouting, swearing,
raging, sulking, yelling, angry humans, laughing humans, and a dog in
striped pajamas floating out to sea.
