“Sticking It” by K. Vale
On our Goodreads thread hop this week, we are answering the question, “If our main characters had a time machine, where would they go?”
I wrote a 500 word flash in response. Yes it is in present, omniscient just for the halibut.
Porta-Potty Time Machine
by K. Vale
“What the hell is this?” Dane knocks on the metal door and turns to give Adam an odd half-smile, half-scowl.
“Why, it’s a time machine.” Adam steps forward, chuckling at Dane’s expression. “See? T-I-M-E spells time. And M-A-C—”
Dane steps on his foot and twists like he’s putting out a cigarette. The maneuver works to put out Adam’s snark.
“Yeah. I can read, Poindexter. What the hell is a metal porta-potty marked time machine doing in my bedroom?”
“It’s May…” Checks his sports watch …“6th, dude.”
“Maybe Paul was screwing with you.”
“Yeah? Look inside, then. If Paul did it, it’s probably going to spray something vile.”
“So, why would I open it?”
Dane harrumphs, stands to the side, yells “Fire in the hole!” and karate kicks the door which springs open while Adam ducks and covers.
Nothing jumps or shoots out. Cautiously, they peer inside. A digital display graces the wall where the toilet should be.
“Fuck me. It is a time machine,” Dane says, doing that weird face again so Adam cracks up as he tries to recover from his undignified retreat.
They squeeze into the porta-machine together.
“Where should we go?” Dane asks, purposely grinding against Adam.
“I wouldn’t mind going back to this morning and fixing the essay portion of my Psych exam. Pretty sure I spelled Wernicke’s wrong. Stupid core classes.”
“Seriously? You’d rather go back and retake a test than get busy in a time machine? It’s like I don’t even know who you are.”
“What? You didn’t say have sex. You specifically said where should we go?”
“Right. You wanna sit on the console or should I?”
Dane yanks down his pants and underwear while Adam is deliberating. He folds his jeans in half and lays them over the buttons before hopping up on top.
Lights start flashing and the porta-machine begins to spin like Dorothy’s house.
“Fuck!” Dane jumps down and slams into Adam as the machine shifts around them worse than a tequila hangover.
“That’s what got us into this mess in the first place!” Adam yells over the sounds of howling wind and robotic beeps.
They slide to the floor, a tangle of naked and clothed limbs, vibrating against each other.
“Hey, not bad.” Dane mumbles, and finds Adam’s lips with his own.
“Really, Dane? Really?”
“Hey, when in Rome…”
“Rome? Oh, Lord. I have a calculus exam at three!”
“Come on. A little bathhouse action and I’ll have ya back by two thirty.” Dane squeezes Adam’s stiffening piece through his khakis.
Adam gives him an exhausted sigh, but Dane knows he’s got him by the balls. Because, in fact, he does have him by the balls.
“Okay. But only because I have our togas in my backpack for that stupid party later.”
“That’s the spirit.” Dane starts unbuttoning Adam’s shirt and kissing his way down his neck.
And the rest, as they say, is history.