Cosmic Transmission Received

Bzzt…crackle…

A lone radio telescope swivels, its metallic limbs creaking in the night wind. Suddenly – a signal pulses from the void!

Zzzip…beep beep…

“We’ve got something!” shouts astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson, adjusting his paisley cravat. “Quick, fire up the Quantum Linguistic Modulator!”

Bzzzwoooo…

Lights blink, equations swirl on holographic displays. “The message… it’s addressed to someone named Madd_Fictional,” intones mathematician Michio Kaku, eyebrows knitted like fractals.

Ring ring…

“Hello, Madd_Fictional speaking.”

“Madds, this is Brian Cox. We need you at the lab pronto, mate. The stars are calling your name!”

Whoooosh…

A hover-limo whisks through neon canyons. Madd_Fictional alights at the SETI compound, greeted by lab-coated luminaries.

“Who are you?” blinks the decoded transmission. Madd_Fictional ponders, reality warping at the edges…

Vrrooommmm…

A movie projector whirs. Sibling rivalry explodes on a medieval tapestry – The Lion in Winter. Madd_Fictional’s family tree twists, a tangle of thorny love-hate.

Fwump…

Pages rustle. A Stranger in a Strange Land, at home nowhere and everywhere. Madd_Fictional traverses the margins, a permanent outsider looking in.

Ommmmm…

Desiderata’s zen koan whispers sage counsel. Inner peace shimmers just out of reach, an oasis mirage. Madd_Fictional grasps, fingertips dissolving into sand…

Eeeeeeeee! The Scream reverberates, paint melting into madness. Demons dance at the corner of Madd_Fictional’s eyes, cackling and vanishing in smoke.

Hmmmmmm… The Thinker cogitates, paralyzed by roads not taken. Madd_Fictional broods, a living statue in the wasteland of missed chances.

Rumble rumble…

Tank treads grind. The Unknown Rebel stands defiant, shopping bags akimbo. Madd_Fictional raises an iron fist against the powers that be!

Oooooooo! Ethereal music floods the senses – Sigur Rós’ sonic sorcery. Madd_Fictional dives headlong into uncharted waters of creativity!

Mwahahahaaaa! Sweeney Todd’s razor drips rubies, vengeance and meat pies steaming in the London fog. Madd_Fictional plots delicious retribution, a recipe 15 years in the making!

Hsssssss… Paint-dappled hands blend into brick and mortar. The Invisible Man vanishes, an artist erased. Madd_Fictional merges with the background, hiding in plain sight…

Ping!

“Transmission complete.” The scientists murmur, stroking chins in 11 dimensions. Madd_Fictional grins, a Cheshire Cat adrift in 10 masterpieces.

Madd_Fictional looks to the stars, celestial genealogy bursting with limitless permutations. “This is who I am,” they whisper. “The universe and I are one.”

Fzzzzzzt…

Static consumes the signal. The telescope powers down with a descending hummmmm. Darkness and silence settle over the desert lab, gravid with unanswered questions. Madd_Fictional walks into the night, footsteps leaving a trail of stardust.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Simmer down. I know the story doesn’t make a lick of sense, but that sometimes happens with stream of consciousness writing. And for all of you doubting that Neil deGrasse Tyson, Michio Kaku, and Brian Cox would ever befriend me…what do you know? You’re not the boss of my fate!