George Jetson entered his apartment on the moving sidewalk feeling lower than a Jovian worm. He had just been fired by his boss, Cosmo Spacely and was home early. His job at Spacely Sprockets had been marked by ups and downs, but this time he had really screwed up. Instead of producing stainless steel automatic salt shakers, he had used gold in the production line and now they had a supply of gold salt shakers which cost a fortune with no one to buy them. On top of that, he had forgotten to set the number of holes so that there were no holes for the salt to come out from. So even if someone had been interested in gold salt shakers, they were useless.
He had messed up before, but never this badly. There was no way Mr. Spacely would forgive him this time. He slumped into his chair as the television automatically turned to his favorite channel. Jane, his beautiful red headed wife, walked in, wearing a sleeveless purple dress that stopped above the knees topped with a triangular white collar.
“Hi, honey,” she called out. “You’re home early.”
“Yeah,” he morosely replied.
“I wasn’t feeling too well, so I decided to come home early,” he lied, unable to tell her the truth. Their finances were a mess, their credit cards charged to the max, living from paycheck to paycheck. George had held onto his job at Spacely Sprockets feeling that he was just on the verge of being promoted to vice-president. He had, in fact, been promoted to that coveted position several times, but there was always some screw up that cost him his promotion and he would end up back where he had started. And at 38, he wasn’t getting any younger and if he now changed jobs, he couldn’t afford to take the pay cut starting with another company.
“Poor baby,” Jane cooed as she hovered over him, feeling his forehead. “You must be working too hard.” She pushed a button and the chair Continue reading