Sam Joven was given a simple task that should've taken a few minutes. When delayed by unaccountable circumstances and taking a full day, could he really tell his the truth or should he tell a lie?
As he searched along the shore line, Sam heard a rumble of large trucks. He climbed up the small hill towards the sound. He saw olive green military trucks with the Bombboblia emblem, the two palm trees on an island, painted on the sides of the trucks. Sam started to wave down a truck. Some drivers waved back at him. In deep frustration, Sam made a mad dash to stop the last truck. Instead of stopping on the side of the road like all good bobs, he stopped in the middle of the path of the incoming truck. The driver slammed on the brakes and the truck came to a skidding halt touching Sam's beak. "What is the meaning of this?" the driver growled at Sam Joven as he neared the driver's side of the truck, "Why are you not where you belong? I could have killed you!" "I am glad you didn't," Sam replied, "I would like some way to get back. If you please sir, I was kidnapped and thrown into this spot against my will." "Kidnapped! huh?" the driver said pulling down more of his hat to cover the noticible grey tufts, looking at Sam from head to foot, "I guess you can hop in here next to me, and be quick about it." Sam readily complied and got in. As soon as he was in, the mechanical monster roared to life and began moving at military speed. Sam soon found himself bouncing up and down in his seat. He obviously did not know about the safety belt. He soon buckled in and felt much better. Sam watched the terrain change as they rumbled into the Victoria Phase of the Modern Quadrasphere. He wondered how his boss was going to accept his strange story. Two hours later the skyline of Bingland came into view.
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"So what do you do for work?" the driver asked as the rumbled along. Sam told him that he was a clerk at a counting house and was on an errand for his boss but was twice delayed. The driver listened with great interest and asked more about his boss, Mr Goldbin. "You know," the driver pointed out, "We don't have to be in such a hurry. Why not wait until tomorrow and head over to Main Modern phase for a night or two. I can show you the highlights, the lowlights and the other lights we have. I would be willing to drive back where you need to go. You will still complete your job. Then you can tell your boss that you were abducted by aliens, examined, genetically mutated for scientific research. I'm sure your boss wouldn't care." Sam stared at the driver in horror. The thought of even deserting his commitment for a day or two, even though the idea of seeing Main Modern Phase did sound awesome. He had heard stories of the other regions and what they are like. Possibly he could, the day was nearly spent. He wondered if he should take his offer or not. Looking forward in silence, Sam knew he was close and yet far enough to turn around take a detour through Main Modern Phase. He crossed his arms think. He felt that packet still in his jacket pocket. Regardless if Mr. Goldbin might be the meanest boss in the world, he had trusted him with a simple assignment. His boss wanted the job done today before the bank closed. What now? What should he do? The driver said he still get the job done if it was delivered a day or two late. Again there was that hunch, that something inside him that urged him to get the assignment done before the bank closed. How soon that was, Sam didn't know. Judging by the basic position of the day star (closest translation for diaestrella), the day was almost spent. What should he do? Deep down he knew the answer to that question. "Thanks," he told the driver, "For the offer, but I am going to decline it. I have a job to do and I need to get it done." The driver looked disappointed but with a shrug of his shoulders, he said, "Your loss then, don't say I didn't make an offer. Where to from here?" Sam looked forward and saw they were entering Bingland. Sam gave the driver directions how to get to the Bank of Binglad. They were soon weaving in and out of the busy streets and familiar landmarks began to appear. The BobBen read 4:30 to the amazement of Sam Joven. The day was almost over and the Bank of Bingland was going to close in less than a half an hour. As they neared the bank, the truck coughed and sputtered and died just a few yards from the doors of the big bank. The driver began grunting that he was out of gas. Sam thanked the driver and hopped out and ran for the bank. He burst through the bank doors. He was dirty, wrinkled, and messy. Teller windows began closing as Sam madly dashed done the row of tellers. He finally reached one that hadn't closed yet. He pulled out of his jacket the packet and delivered it to the teller. Upon exiting the bank doors, he whooped out loud and cheered for his success.
