America: 50☆Stars (Vol. 3)

Episode 11: The Bad Friday Earthquake

"Ugh... Mmm... Aah... Ooo... Oh my gosh... Right there... Harder... My back is fucking killing me..." California's moans were like that of a porn actress. It didn't help the sensual massage she was receiving from her masseuse seemed like the plot to a porno. Alas, the episode needed to maintain its PG-13 rating, so there would be nothing sexual shown here.

"Your session is over. It's time for me to pack up and leave," the masseuse informed her, taking their hands off her back.

"Nooo... Don't go... My back still hurts... I'm willing to pay extra to extend the session."

"I'm sorry, miss. I have another customer scheduled in an hour, so I must get going."

"Aw... I don't wanna get up..." Despite her reluctance, she was forced to get up for the masseuse to fold up the portable massage table. She laid across her sofa, paying no attention to her favorite masseuse heading out the door like a one-night stand. "These fucking earthquakes, man," she groaned. "I swear nobody can relate to my back pains."

"I can relate."

A cold murmur made California sit up and shriek in surprise, "What the hell?! Ow, fuck!" She placed a hand on her back, glaring at the intruder in the midnight blue parka standing over her. "Who the fuck are you? How did you get in my house?"

Taken aback by the offensive language used against her, the stranger hastily answered both questions, "I'm Alaska, a U.S. territory. I came in through the front door after a lady opened it for me."

'A lady? She probably means the masseuse.' She grumbled, "Okay, Alaska. I don't know why you came here wearing a coat in the middle of spring, but I'm obviously not in a good mood to do any favors."

"Very well. I'll give you a short explanation for why I'm here." Alaska explained, "As you know, I'm determined to join the Union as a U.S. state. Though I've been shot down several times, I won't stop asking for everyone's approval until I achieve statehood. Hence, my abrupt visit to your house. I'm here to convince you to support me."

"I see," California smirked. "If you want to get on my good side, how about you give me a back massage?"

"Why?"

"Because my back hurts, duh! All these earthquakes I get every year are such a fucking pain. I don't expect someone as remote as you to understand."

"Actually, I do understand your pain."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "My earthquakes are on a whole other level. Like, a couple of days ago, I had a magnitude 5.3 earthquake hit San Francisco. It wasn't a total surprise since I had, like, eight foreshocks happen in the days leading up to it. Still, I was scared shitless because I was hella worried it would be 1906 all over again. Thank gosh it wasn't that severe. Too bad I couldn't say the same for my back still enduring aftershocks." She moaned, rubbing the middle of her back.

"By a couple of days ago, do you mean the 22nd of March?"

"Yeah. Do dates matter or something?"

"That's not it." She shook her head. "I had an earthquake that day, too. It was only an aftershock, but what a coincidence."

"Weird flex but okay." She rolled her eyes. "Aftershocks don't compare to the mainshock." 

"Yeah. That's true," she mumbled. "It was my fifteenth aftershock this month, so it wasn't that shocking."

"Hold up! Fifteenth? Is that right?" There was the benefit of a doubt the aftershocks were small and weak. Still, fifteen aftershocks within a month were nothing to sneeze at. 

Somehow, Alaska remained unfazed by this fact. "There might be smaller ones I failed to record. For sure, I counted fifteen aftershocks between magnitudes 6.5 to 7.2. Of course, those numbers pale in comparison to the 8.6 earthquake—the strongest earthquake I ever witnessed."