From the Imaginarium, a picture waiting for a story. This is your chance. Your imagination is talking to you. Are you listening? What do you see? Who's finger is that and why does this person contemplate such a violation of the universal laws of physics?
The Imaginarium......Simple yet sublime so why aren't you writing?
Our Flight Director Bracken Funk typed up a story to go with the picture. His contribution is below.
Bracken's Story to Accompany the Picture.
Vic slinked down the basement stairs to where the old microwave had been hidden, hidden for a very long time. Since Central had been opened is what he'd been told. The only ones who knew about it were Mr. Henshaw, the District Superintendent, and himself. He recalled the evening where Mr. Henshaw had shown the magical microwave to him.
"We don't know where this came from, Victor,"Mr. Henshaw told him sternly, "We don't know why it's here either. We don't know what it does exactly, and it's never been used. From what the owners manual said, that button stops time. It stops it as soon as you press it... But as far as exact sciences- we haven't the slightest idea. We are showing this to you, because you are doing something here that no other teacher has done. A simulator in a school, with all sorts of potential problems, and thousands of students promised to come here. Should anything go wrong, we want you to know where this is."
He smiled, that had been 1990, two days after the Voyager officially opened. He knew back then he wouldn't be able to resist nearly weekly use of the device, there was never enough time for anything. His mind wandered back to review the day.
"Mr. Williamson," it was the voice of Jon Parker that started his daydream.
Without giving a second thought, the tone of Jon's voice insisted that somewhere very nearby, trouble was lurking, Fortuna, the arch-nemesis of Victor Williamson was waiting to place a card in something that was supposed to be left alone. He looked at Jon, without saying anything to allow himself time to keep the imminent explosion of anger inside.
"It's the Dragon Lady... She's angry about everything again... The lights, the sound, the pet perrett... We don't know what to do..." Jon sounded sheepish, Vic could tell that Jon really wished he could've solved the problem on his own.
"I'll take care of it," He didn't even need to ask for the location of the problem. He headed directly to the Odyssey. Upon arriving, he found the dragon lady breathing fire across thousands of dollars worth of equipment, breathing threatenings with every burst of flame that protruded from her black lips.
"May I help you, Miss DL?"
"YES!! I'm trying to train my future dragons, and your raucous over here is much more than I can stand. The occasional yelp, the 30 seconds of loud music at the end of your mission. The every once-in-a-while hum of your alarms from this place is too much for me to focus. It ruins everything... Why... It's so noisy, I have a constant migraine."
"Well, we'll do what we can if you'll stop burning down my ship," Vic said wryly, watching her walk away still muttering about how she never has any say.
He had completed the first task of the day, but that wasn't going to be the end for sure.
Upon his first field trip flight, the projector went out, a typical Friday happening. The Voyager felt like it was closing night for it's performance- it had to pull it's pranks. And so, the projector died, frustrating him slightly, nothing he couldn't deal with.
Several minutes later, an angry woman with a phaser should up. She wasn't angry with him, just with the phaser. Had the phaser been an animated object, I'm sure she would have beat it. It had been left in a hallway.
Filch came in to tell him that he was the ONLY person that was allowed to move the curtains, seeing as how he had his curtain pass from a young age. This was going to cost him money.
Several students puked in the middle of the day flights- he hoped to get time to REALLY clean that up.
The Voyager, Magellan, and Phoenix sound systems decided to die in the middle of the private flights later, as well as several phone calls that he had to deal with, which generally consisted of mothers crying on the other end begging him to let their kids come to the overnighter. And... Several of the Voyager chairs broke.
With all of this, there were still several things which needed to be handled. He now came back to his senses, standing in front of the microwave.
"I must be the only human being who has a 120 hour work week... I hate Fridays..." He thought.
And with that, he pushed the button, stopping time so that he could attend to all the things that required his attention.