“I don’t understand,” she said, looking at the sign.
“What’s to understand? The sign says NO VACANCY. That means you can’t come in.”
“I don’t make the rules,” he said, rubbing his huge belly.
“This doesn’t make any sense. I’ve come a really long way.”
“Whatever,” he said, chewing on his cigar.
“You smell terrible. What is that thing?”
“Haven’t you ever seen a cigar before?”
“Look, I can’t hover here all night,” she said. “I’m landing and that’s that.”
“They’ll blow up your ship if you land.”
“I’ll go farther out.”
“You can try,” he laughed.
“This is a tiny, unimportant rock, circling a medium size star and you’re keeping US out?”
“Looks that way,” he said, straightening his newspaper.
“I could erase all of you, with one word.”
“Go ahead,” he said. “See if I care.”
She closed the communication link, the ship rose, and the captain said. “Hit them with an HO*.”
And that’s the day all the humans died. No comet, no sun turning into a Red Giant, nothing big. Just a stupid human doing his job and a NO VACANCY sign. In the end, and more often than not, it’s the things you never even thought of that take you out.
Photo: Prime Cinematics