Like Landing on the Moon for the First Time

Max suffered from disorientation, but he was used to it. His head felt like thousands of houseflies were crawling around in his brain. The wave had hit him hard this time around, and he could never shake that sensation. He thought that after all the shifts he'd gone through that he would have developed some sort of immunity to it, but he was wrong.

He lifted his head to try to find out where he was. To get a bearing on where he was and if he was in immediate danger.

"Okay fellow," a male voice asked. "Where and the hell did you just come from?"

"Long story," Max said as he sat up, still feeling the dizzying effects of the shift. "Where am I?"

"Well, we've got a long time," a female voice chimed in; she had a high cockney accent. "You better start talking the talk mister, or you'll be going to another place really soon."

"And fellow, you ain't going nowhere until we get answers," another male voice said, with a hint of a Texas drawl in it.

Max looked around and he noticed the group surrounding him. They were all standing in a living room. A blonde girl was looking at him warily. Across the room an older woman was staring at him with her hands on her hips and a cold look in her eyes. The first fellow who had spoken stood nearby holding a small object in his hands, keeping it pointed at Max. And the old fellow with the Texas drawl knelt beside him, patting him down.

"If I were you buddy, I'd start talking," the blonde said to Max.

"I wonder if he's a shifter?" the Texan asked another. "Like us, traveling the infinities."

Max's attention turned to the Texan.

"It's possible," the other fellow said.

Champions Do Eat Breakfast

Frank lowered the newspaper he was reading and peered over it. "Take it easy on breakfast buffet, Goner. You're not the only one here who likes breakfast."

They were sitting in a corner table inside Endless Griddle, enjoying a fine breakfast.

"Sorry, Frank," Goner said in-between bites. "I really don't know when I will eat a meal like this again. Besides, it's fucking delicious."

Max came back and sat down with his plate; he gave Goner a little double-take. It was like he was watching Shaggy attack a meal. Max didn't know where the kid was putting the food, but he figured Goner needed the nourishment.

"Make sure you come up for air," Frank told Goner.

"You getting anything, Frank?" Max asked the older fellow.

Frank folded the newspaper and stood up, grabbing his coffee cup. "Just sticking with coffee. I think Goner is eating for the both of us."

Max chuckled and began to eat his breakfast.