‘Ferguson … John Ferguson. Oh yeah …‘ John was loving it. This was the smooth ride that could only come from a car that was inspected and tested by hand at every step of its manufacture. It handled like butter. Shaken or stirred? There would be neither in this vehicle. Everything was still and beautiful like a pond with no breeze. This was the car to end all cars. For John, it didn’t get better than this.
The wind blew through his hair as he flew on the clouds. Or, at least, it would have if his hair hadn’t been impervious to such things. He didn’t mind though because his cape had a nice flappiness about it which he had always found very appealing. He often wondered if the scientists on his home world had spent a lot of time perfecting such a wonderfully flappy cape, but that was silly.
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