Fkilling Fmachine
Ever since they had discovered the music of the "men" from a little planet out in the western spiral arm of the galaxy known as Farplootinken F, the people of the planet Furp had taken to naming themselves after the alien musicians they had come to love.This is how Farport Furnk came to call himself Keith Richards.
He had called himself Keith Richards for so long now that he had almost forgotten his real name. Everyone at the Fministry called him Keith Richards.
Keith stopped reflecting on how strange things had become over the last few years and trained his attention instead on the Killing Cylinder.
They had discovered it out here in the fwastelands when some poor Furg-herder had accidentally walked in and been smashed to bits.
Since then a great deal of effort on the part of the Fministry had been expended to discover just what it's fmotives were.
It was a large metal cylinder jutting out of the ground, tall enouh for someone to walk through the foval on the side. A makeshift fbuilding had been erected around it so that the fstudies could continue unabated in inclement fweather. There was a great deal of inclement fweather on the planet Furp.
The dull gleam of the cylinder stared at him.
They had been working on it for almost a fmonth now. No matter who they put in the fcylinder, it smashed its foccupant to fmush in the blink of an eye, but the Fministry struggled on.
Fwork had to be completed.
Jimi Hendrix stepped into the makeshift building.
"How's it going, Keith? Another test, eh?" Jimi asked.
"Yeah, hopefully this one will go differently."
"Who do we have today?"
"A Fplumber and a Ftelevision Frepairman." Keith said, eyeing his fclipboard.
"Okay. Let's get on with it," Jimi said, opening the fdoor to the outside. "Okay, come on in" he called out.
Two fpeople came inside the fbuilding, one after another. They gleamed with pride to be helping the Fministry with its fstudies. They had no idea what they were doing.
"Okay, er, yes," Jimi said, "Ftelevision guy, just step through that foval there for us, would you?"
"Just this fdoor here?" he asked.
"That one there, yes."
"Ok"
He stepped into the cylinder and turned around to face the others.
"Say what's this all about anyGLK" he said, as the cylinder smashed him into a paste.
"Fjesus Fucking Fchrist!" exclaimed the fplumber.
Jimi Hendrix made a small fnote on a fclipboard fnailed to the fwall.
"Fnext?"
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