“Illuminating dawn in two minutes. Is everyone ready? Where’s Carl?”
Walking to the door, he peered through the narrow glass window into the hallway. Carl leaned against the counter, cheesy grin with coffee in hand, as he fraternized with the interns from the Triangulum Galaxy. Banging on the door, Carl jumped, spilling his coffee before waving to the giggling interns and rushing for the door.
“Carl, you’re late. Don’t mess this up again.”
“Illumination in thirty seconds, sir.”
Carl scurried to his chair, setting his mug down with little grace. “Sorry!” The group groaned as they watched him clean up spilled coffee.
“Cue the songbirds, animals, and gentle morning breeze.”
He watched the screens as a kaleidoscope of birds and animals came alive, plant life waving and dancing in the pre-dawn moments. Pleased with how this version was going, he relaxed his shoulders a little and a corner of his mouth turned up.
“Engage illumination and the opening of flowers. Release the bugs.”
Mosquitoes buzzed across the screen as they observed squirrels scampering about for food. Morning Glories and Hibiscus opened their petals for the expected sunshine while chipmunks bustled playfully from plant to plant.
“Carl! Engage Illumination!”
His heart sank as he regarded Carl frantically scrubbing the console and smashing buttons. “Umm, there is a little problem here.”
Eyes whipping to the screen, they all watched in dismay as the earth’s inhabitants floated by in fear. Tiny legs ran in a frenzy, eyes wide in alarm at the unnatural environment. The humans, drool pooling in the lack of gravity, drifted from their beds.
“You had one job, Carl. All you had to do was push the button to illuminate the sun but no, you had to turn off gravity.” His fingers pinched high on the bridge of his nose. “Turn it off. Maybe we can still fix this. We can put everyone back to sleep and the world’s inhabitants will think they fell out of bed or were sleepwalking.”
“Umm Boss, the gravity button is stuck.”
The entire workforce groaned, some throwing wadded paper at Carl for yet another mishap.
Shoulders slumped in defeat, “Wipe the slate and get that console fixed. From here out, no food or drink is permitted in this office. Hands will be scrubbed prior to entry — we don’t want another syrup misfortune either.” With that, he spun on his heel and exited the room.
An anxious creation suspended and somersaulting, birds attempted what should have been instinctive shone on every surface of the dome.
“Planet self-destruct initiated. Again. Thanks a lot, Carl.”
"You had one job, Carl..."
Haven't I heard that line before?