Those jokey Jupiterians are hard at work again, unfortunately.
There is some kind of proportion formula working between me and the Jupiterians. The more important a project is to me, the more likely the Jupiterians will exert themselves to play practical jokes. And right now my project is right up there with…with…well, it is so important I don’t know what to compare it to.
I am working on the cover for the Department of Temporal Adjustment, and I am well aware that people do judge books by their covers. So I have to get it right. The cover must be superb and perfect. It must exude humor and excitement, without being funny or amateurish.
And while I am working hard to create the perfect book cover for the DTA–and it must be perfect since its job is to entice readers to first pick up and then read the book–the Jupiterians are throwing every possible distraction at me imaginable. Packages, all of a sudden, require signatures. The dog barks, and when I look, no one is around. My computer dies suddenly due to lack of power, even though I had plugged it in a few minutes previously.
But Jupiterians, I will prevail. Give me your worst.
Or, on second thought, you don’t really have to. You’ve distracted me quite enough. I get the point, you are funny, funny, little Jupiterians.
What’s that you say? You want me to put one of you, a Jupiterian, on the front cover? But the book is not about…
Oh, I see. You would be satisfied with life size image, one no humans would even notice.
I’ll tell you what, Jupiterians. You leave me alone long enough to get this cover done, and I will seriously think about it.
Great! It’s a deal!
They sound so cute when they giggle like that–at least they do as long as they aren’t giggling because of some joke they played on me.
I wonder if they realize they are invisible to humans?