Skip next greeted a human.

​     He looked like he hadn't showered or shaved for days.

     Instead of a bowl of something, the guy plunked a bottle down on the table. 

     He smiled. He looked young, but he only had half his teeth left.

     Skip picked up the bottle and looked at it. It was made out of he had no idea what. It had no label. Did labels even exist in the year 10,000 A.D.?

     He sniffed the contents. 

     Alcohol. Not strong, though. What Skip sniffed didn't overwhelm his senses. He didn't know alcohol at all, though. Scotch? Whiskey? Weren't they kind of the same thing?

     He turned to Parp. "You know alcohol at all?"

     "Of course I do." Parp took the bottle away from Skip and downed two good swallows. Then, 

     "You owe that guy some kloval," Parp said. "That's some excellent blastrolt brandy. You usually can't get that around here."

     "Sweet." Skip then had another announcement to make. "From now on, I'll be trading kloval and blastoid..."

     "Blastolt," Parp corrected him.

     "Best brandy in the galaxy! Let's party!"

     Claudia said, "Skip, you can't imagine what you just..."

​     WHOOSHAW!

CONTINUE