Doug Donnan

Doug Donnan
Doug Donnan

Friday, March 11, 2016

STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS WAYS

Doug Donnan                                                                                  
Executive Editor/OMNI-GENRE+ 
 




            







STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS WAYS
                                                   
  by
            
   Doug Donnan  
                                                
    
     "Tell us professor just how often does this alignment business happen?" a young blonde
reporter asked. She had a probing intensity that shocked even her. It was her first actual
assignment, but one would never have guessed it by the way she conducted herself.

     "Well miss," Professor Vanderbilt began as he slowly pulled away his chromium, wire
rimmed glasses as if he were about to address a room filled with impatient students. "The
chances of this ever happening again are, at best, infinitesimal. Einstein proclaimed that
'God does not play dice with the universe!'  This arrangement of Jupiter's moons, all in a
row if you will, would be a long shot at any casino in Las Vegas or Atlantic City!" 

    . "But what does it all have to do with us here on Big Blue?" the woman pressed.
"Layman's lingo if you would please.”

     "Okay, I’ll try," Vanderbilt said as he grasped the podium just beneath the huge bouquet
of microphones. "The giant Jupiter has a plethora of moons, large and small, some very
close to it, and some far away, from the massive icy Ganymede to the tiny Leda. They are,
each and all, captured in the great planet’s gravitational net. There are at least sixteen
moons, at last count, orbiting her. That's a lot of satellites young lady and if you have them
all in alignment sandwiched between Earth, including the eclipsing Mars and our lonely
old Moon, we might just have ourselves one heck of a… moving Christmas!"

     "That's not that far off sir. It’s only a few weeks," an older television anchorman called
out as he fanned some fingers up in the air for effect. "Should we be concerned?"

     Professor Vanderbilt cupped a hand above his eyes before replacing his glasses. He
stood awash in the bright camera lights in his white lab coat. He was secretly enjoying his
fifteen minutes of fame.

     "Well, quite frankly sir--we're not certain about that. Some of my colleagues pooh-
pooh this Jovian lunar parade away as merely a very rare astronomical phenomenon while
still others are ready to sound the alarm for some resounding global catastrophe."

     "What do you think? Is something big gonna’ happen, something…major?"

     "I think that this unique experience just may affect a few of us rather… passionately.”

     "Maybe it’s just me doc, but that kind of passionate experience doesn't sound very
sexy," crew cut offered back.    

       Soon newspapers and magazines worldwide jumped all over the extraterrestrial event:    

Moon Riddler! for Time magazine. 

Queue Balls! quipped Newsweek

Jupiter Jam! announced The National Enquirer
    
What Goes Around Comes Around! USA Today  

From far and wide even the most modest of local newspapers joined the craze:

The Sixteen Moons of Christmas! Headlined North Carolina's popular Raleigh Observer

      And so what began as a whimsical curiosity for most rational people around the globe
soon became a growing concern as December twenty-fifth and the alignment of the
sixteen distant  moons drew near. The professor grew ever more concerned, eventually
extremely apprehensive.

*     *     *

     "Come to bed Godfrey," Mrs.Vanderbilt sighed as she squinted out from the crater-
like depression of her down pillow. "For heaven's sake it's 3 o'clock in the morning!
You're going to stir up the grand kids downstairs on their pallets with all your pacing."

     "Ssshh Mariane--I can't sleep! In a few hours they'll be set in line, all of them! The
Galileans--Io, Europa, Callisto, Ganymede and then falling in perfect alignment Metis,
Adrastea, Almalthea, Thebe, Leda, Himalia, Lysithea, Elara, Ananke, Carme, Pasiphae,
and Sinope all tugging away with the mighty force of Jupiter behind them! The effect
of it all, the gravitational force and pull on us. There'll be devastation Mariane—
heaving, catastrophic shifting tides, Tsunamis, global flooding and then..."

     "Oh stop that nonsense Godfrey Vanderbilt," she sighed. “You're driving me crazy with
all this moon business. You’ve managed to convince everybody but yourself that there's
nothing to it all. She rolled over on her side like some large, foundering ocean liner. "Come
back to bed. Tomorrow is Christmas day for heaven's sake!"

     Vanderbilt loped over to the triptych of bump out bedroom bay windows that
overlooked the snow covered back courtyard of the two story brownstone. The moonlight
seemed almost phosphorescent as it washed over everything below. He massaged
his pulsing temples with the very tips of his fingers as he gazed up at the twinkling
darkness of the sky. He focused his attention on the radiant North Star… Polaris,
everyman's ultimate guide for hope and direction. A glistening tear wandered down his
cheek, controlled only by gravity and fate. He made a silent prayer as he pressed the
sweating palms of his hands against the frosted window pane:
    
      “Dear God, here and now on the birthday of your only begotten son, save us once
again. Intervene again. Spare us the pain and suffering of this catastrophe. Let it be.
Please… let it be.”

*     *     *

     In the morning, the Vanderbilt house was alive with the excitement and wonder of
Christmas. Sweet smells wafted from the kitchen. Singing and chatter by the green and
silver tree--but for professor Vanderbilt pressing away on the TV remote control
everything seemed Norman Rockwell perfect.

     "Godfrey! Please turn that thing off and come join us in the kitchen for eggnog."

     Vanderbilt was studying the screen with grave intent and interest. Finally he placed
the remote back down on the coffee table.

     "I think it's over and we've made it through!" he said to no one in particular. He
reached for the phone on the mahogany end table and was about to make some phone
calls. His green and red aproned wife came and stood behind him. She placed her floured
hands on his shoulders and began to kneed them like cookie dough.

     "I told you everything would be okay Godfrey. Nothing happened! Remember, the
Lord and this universe, must work in strange and mysterious ways.

Please come along now and join us in the kitchen for some of the nice eggnog…  'mmm!"

     Vanderbilt raised himself up with a deep sigh of satisfaction and followed the cooking
scents into the white warmth of the kitchen. It was true nothing had happened. His wife
was right--strange and mysterious ways indeed!   

                                        
                                         December 25 south eastern Africa
                                     Kaokoveld region of the Namib Desert

    
     Vengapi Pinjvanda had guided his herd of milking goats and rather extensive Himba
family through this region many times in the past. The Kunene River that snaked its way
through this particularly arid and desolate section of the Namib had always been an
oasis. But now, in the last year or so, the Kunene had dried up into a parched red clay rut.
It had become only a pathetic thin highway for stealthy sand lizards and a crude, twisting
runway for scavenging vultures. As he sat there with his long willowy black arms crossed
over his knees, he tilted his head down as if all at once the total weight of his frustrated
efforts to exist had pushed down upon him like some great and merciless weight. His
pipe-stemmed children in their pathetic faded American relief T-shirts and the struggling
sea of emaciated goats all gathered around him hoping that somehow he could bring the
cool flow of water back to them. It was a cruel scene of futility and barren despair.

     And just then…

     There was an impatient rumbling, a shuddering tremor off in the distance. They could
all feel the quivering vibration along the dried mud of the crevasse that was the Kunene.
Then, like an eye-blistering mirage, the waters rushed past them. A thin, muddy ribbon at
first, and then, gradually, a churning silver flow of refreshing liquid life. They staggered
forward and cautiously dipped themselves into the rushing water. Many of them fell to
their knees there at the bank of the rejuvenated river. They scooped the dried cups of
their hands down into the cool wetness and pulled up a refreshing drink. The skeletal
goats fanned out and waded in, bleating and crying out as they felt and slurped at the
crystal waters of the revived Kunene.

     Vengapi raised himself up and blew out a thin sigh of ecstasy. He shuffled forward
and stepped out into the miraculous river. He stood there for a moment letting the cool,
rushing water massage his burning feet before he had even noticed it off on the lavender
horizon, just above the jagged mountain range. The herdsman cupped his crusted hand
over his squinting eyes and tried to focus on the star. It was the silver star of guidance
hanging up in the bright blue sky like a flickering campfire. Here, in the light of day, it
shone down for all to see. Vengapi collapsed to his knees and wept at the strange and
miraculous beauty of it all.

                                                            

                                                        ___The End___

Friday, January 29, 2016

WATCHING MATHILDE #253

DOUG DONNANExecutive Editor/OMNI-GENRE+MAGAZINE!                       
donnan.doug@yahoo.com


               

           
        









WATCHING MATHILDE #253

  by
  
  DOUG DONNAN

    “Well, Leefwater you’re the high-falutin’ astrochemist.
What do you make of this whole business?” Professor Lemp
asked with a bewildered shake of his bulbous bald head.
 Gordon Leefwater held out a large folded stack of
spectroscopic computer printouts as might a tidy hospital
orderly present a fresh stack of cotton bedding. The esteemed
Doctor Leefwater (who had more degrees than a rectal
thermometer!) possessed a swollen ego as well as an extremely
arid drollness.

     “Make of it?” he snapped back. “With all due respect
professor, I wasn’t consciously aware that I was supposed
to make anything of it.”

He plopped the cargo of green and white hardcopy down on
Lemp’s chromium work table where there were already sizeable
towers of astronomy periodicals, scientific journals and various
other assorted documents and research papers all of which were
related to the subject of asteroids. One asteroid in particular,
Mathilde #253, had gotten their undivided attention for the last
48 hours. This seemingly insignificant wandering little orb,
cruising all around way out there in space with the lion share
of the other rotating asteroids between the immense sweeping
orbits of the blushing Mars and massive Jupiter, had recently
been observed (quite by accident by a group of tenacious
amateur astronomers) to be acting rather strange.

     “Listen here Leefwater,” Lemp sighed as he guided his
wire rim eyeglasses up into the protruding loft of his open
forehead. “I sure wish we had never stumbled onto this crazy
can of worms. Do you know what I mean? This whole thing is
insane. Back in ’97 the Near Earth Asteroid Rendezvous
Spacecraft told us all we thought we ever really ought to know
about this little biscuit,” he blew out as he braced himself
up and rolled his eyes all about the vaulted periphery of the
dimly lighted planetarium. “But, nooo here we are well over
ten years later and we come across this! Please help me out
Leefwater. What in the world…the solar system I should say,
is going on way out there?”

     Leefwater straightened up and pushed his gnarled fists
up against the starched pockets of his long white laboratory
smock. He was as tall as he was arrogant. He looked down the
beak of his aquiline nose and over his thin black readers at
Lemp as if he were some pathetic lost dog or other domestic
house pet. He quickly decided that he now had the exasperated
astronomer right where he wanted him.

     “Okay Lemp, I’ll just cut to the chase and tell you what
I think might be going on with this little asteroid of yours.             
Is that what you want to hear from me?” he scolded with his
lantern jaw poised up and out with a stoic confidence.

     “Yes that’s precisely what I want from you,” Lemp responded
to the curt challenge. “Not reams of color imagery and
spectroscopic printouts. Just your learned, personal opinion…
that is if it’s not too much trouble.”

     “As you well know professor,” Leefwater began as if he
was about to conduct an impromptu student lecture. “Astronomers
have been zooming in on these roving planetoids since the very
early nineteenth century. The Celestial Police, as they call
themselves, discovered the colossal Ceres moving around out there.
After that it seems all hell broke loose. It took some considerable
time but eventually one asteroid, as they came to refer to them,
after another began popping up. The rookies and the regulars
were picking them up with their telescopes like so many rocky
space marbles.”

     “Yes, yes…but what does any of that have to do with—“

     “Hear me out,” Leefwater cut him off with a karate-like
hand gesture. “Let me see if I can try and get to the bottom
of all this.” He began to slowly pace about the floor in wide
concentric circles. “Let us begin by establishing a rudimen-
tary list of generally accepted facts about this heavenly
little body…the Divine Miss M.”

     Very well,” Lemp conceded as he threw his arms out in
total surrender.       

     “Now, as you said, ever since NASA’s ‘NEAR’ spacecraft
did its asteroid belt tour of duty way back in mid-June of
1997, we have come to know plenty about Mathilde. First of
all she is a C type, carbon rich, main belt asteroid,” he
proclaimed as he gazed up at the vaulted ceiling as if now
pondering all the wonders of the universe. “Second, as our
asteroid friends go, Mathilde is rather large…approximately
fifty kilometers in diameter. Third, it has an extremely
slow rotation rate. Just a little over seventeen days. Some
of our esteemed colleagues will swear that she hardly spins
around at all!”

     “But, what about the mysterious lights, the numerous
and odd perturbations and all the crazy—”

     “Please!” Leefwater almost shouted as he tossed out yet
another silencing backhand chop.

      Lemp sagged back into his chair as though gravity had
suddenly become simply just too much for him.

     “Thank you,” Leefwater exclaimed as he continued his
circuitous parade. “It has no moons, no ice or water only
a high measure of silicate. She’s very porous almost like
styrofoam. Mathilde has five huge facial craters. She’s an
odd ball that’s for sure.” He stopped short and executed a
slow about face. He eyeballed the flustered Lemp.

     “But—” Lemp peeped.

     “It’s the government professor. Surely even you can see
that!” Leefwater now almost whispered condescendingly behind 
the back of his open hand.

     Lemp was now numb. His pale brown eyes glazed over like
tiny waxing moons.

     “Oh for pity sakes man, you people, you silly ass astronomers.
You stare into space all the live long night and you
never see things as they truly are…the real world. The stars
and planets get in your way!” Leefwater started towards
Lemp’s table as might a confident trial lawyer approach the
jury box for his closing argument. “Let us put two and two
together,” he sighed as he flipped an impatient look down at
his glistening Rolex. “It seems that we have all these things
going on way out on this little insignificant asteroid named
Mathilde—who in the hell cares? What’s it all about you ask?
Why this and what about that? I’m going to let you in on a
little secret my starry eyed friend. This ‘can of worms’ as
you call it should be left alone. Just roll over on this
and let it be…capiche? Somebody is up to something way out
there and I’ll bet you my last dollar that it’s our government boys.
Some strategic nuclear missile base, a secret radioactive waste
depository…perhaps a new Area 51? God only knows what it
might be. But, I’m telling you, as sure as I’m wasting my time
with you, to swing that big ass telescope of yours in a different
direction or you’ll someday soon have all hell to pay!” 

     Leefwater pointed his long index finger down at the

mesmerized Lemp as if it were the barrel of a pistol.

     “I’m giving you fair warning on this my good professor,
stay away from this Mathilde business. And for that matter
any other little asteroid anomalies you just might come
across. Do you catch my drift?”

     He shot another rude look at his wristwatch and shook
his head. “I’m late for an important meeting professor, but
I truly enjoyed our little tête-à-tête,” he said sarcastically. And,
at that, he did scurry off for the door and quickly whisk out.

*     *     *

     “Yes sir that’s correct. There are five of these rather
large craters and this is the first one we’ve begun full-
fledged construction efforts on. This particular AUI condo-
village we call Solar Hollow. Clever huh? Watch your step as
we descend. These state of the art robotic multi-rung extension
ladders can be pretty tricky.”

     Congressman Neville Garr, feeling rather foolish in the
silver and orange neoprene EVA space suit and accompanying
omni-directional wedge space helmet, had a death grip on the
vibrating sides of the ladder as he cautiously followed the
Astronomical Units Incorporated project foreman Lester Woods
down and down into the pit and progress of the vast crater.
The highly covert construction site was alive with activity.
Thousands of massive incandescent light towers were spread
out and around everywhere creating a veritable forest of
golden metal stanchions all aglow in an almost blinding sun-
like luminescence. There were endless stacks of gunmetal
blue Plexi-Plate siding and great spools of multi-colored
electrical wiring as far as the eye could see. All along
the periphery of the vast workplace were mountains of white
plastic piping and coils of flexible tubing. Thousands of
puff suited construction workers came and went from the
crawling yellow half-track work vehicles. And, as if purposefully
choreographing the complete astronomical ballet below were the
elongated swinging metal arms of hundreds of gigantic cranes
slowly swinging about delivering their heavy designated payloads.
The entire affair a literal beehive of astral-condominium activity.

     “It all seems so surreal,” Garr breathed out from deep
inside his helmet. He had reached the final rungs of the
living ladder. A dramatic pause, as he scanned the impossible
vastness of the undertaking surrounding him. He was almost…
speechless.

     Woods slowly extended his puffy spacesuit arms upward
as if signaling some kind of momentous touchdown. “Yes sir,”
he cried out. “The last thing we’ll do on these projects after the
water reservoir points, sanitation and refuse details and a host of
other transfer and delivery scenarios are ironed out is remove that
over-hanging cover membrane you see stretched out above us. Then
it’s just a matter of positioning the gigantic plexi-dome bubble that
will cover the entire Terra-Formed site. He lowered his arms and
turned to the gawking congressman. “That’s only a few months
down the road Mister Garr. Hopefully everything we’re doing way
out here will be legal and proper by then. I know that AUI wants to
have this whole shebang done on the up and up…you know, take
all the deception and mystery out of  it all. By the way congressman,
how is that redoubtable genius of ours doing with the cover-up part
of all this? What’s his name again…Luftwaffe?

     “That’s Leefwater! He’s trying to keep the big name
astronomers off our back, but the pesky amateurs are everywhere
and they start little fires with their probing questions about this
and that out here on the asteroid highway. It’s pretty obvious we’re
sailing in uncharted waters on this solar system real estate
development business. A lot of do-gooder busy bodies back on
Earth desperately want to find out what’s going on way out here.
Leefwater is a very cagey operative. He’s the very best at what he
does in matters such as these, but…anyway, it’s a big step for
everyone involved. We’ll get the necessary bills passed.
We always do. You simply have to scratch the right backs
and procure the necessary stimulus funds to ramp it all in
the right direction…if you catch my drift? Once everything
is pushed through and squared away in Washington you can
drop your giant bubble domes as fast as you might on any and
all the asteroids you want to,” he finished and then took a
couple of moon-like steps forward as if that would help his
efforts to whisper something important to Woods.

     “Just you don’t lose that list of names I gave you back
in your station office. They’re all, for the most part, fine
upstanding men and women back there on capital hill. They
have a vested interest in all this and want to see it carried
out all clean and sweet…capiche?”

     “I understand,” Woods pushed out a silver circled index
finger and thumb. “It will all be one giant leap for mankind
right?” he laughed.

                   
                           

                                ___ The End ___

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Iron Mom

Doug DonnanExecutive Editor/OMNI-GENRE+MAGAZINE!                                                                 
donnan.doug@yahoo.com




This story is dedicated to all the men and women who gave their lives
in defense of our country..’

                                           

                                            











"Iron Mom"      
                                                      
by

Doug Donnan 


                                                  (Vacaville, California)

     “I have no idea who she is or where in the hell she got that experimental XOS2 suit
sheriff, but I do know I’m worried about tryin’ to stop her,” Officer Saltino said as they
trailed behind her in their patrol car. The cemetery was much larger than a casual driver-
by might think. The pea stone path that wound all around the undulating green mounds
and foot worn hillocks was made just wide enough for a standard hearse to negotiate.

     “She’s wearin’ a damn’ Iron Man suit!” Sheriff Bench bellowed with a boiling pique of
aggravation. “How in the hell’d she get in here with that gravestone? Where’s she goin’?” 

     “A jogger tol’ me he saw an olive green army truck pull up to the gates of this
cemetery and let her and that headstone giant-step out the back. Then the soldiers just
drove off! She tol’ the caretaker out here that she was comin’ in to do for herself what
our government boys should have done way back then, after it happened, said her son
was killed overseas in Iraq. He was a genuwine war hero…medals, ribbons, Purple Heart
the whole nine yards. Damned caretaker said he made a quick sign of the cross and let
her just march on in carryin’ that big ol’ marble tombstone out in front of herself like
Moses comin’ down the mountain with the tablets.”

     “I’ll be damned,” Bench breathed out as he pulled at his hanging bank of blubbery
chins. “You know, I’ve seen those damn XOS2 exoskeleton suits demonstrated on the
Internet somewhere. It showed that a normal person can lift up ta’ five-hundred pounds
without breakin’ a sweat or an arm. Now I don’t know if I’d consider this little gal to be
normal, but man she sure seems to possess more than her fair share of gumpshun’.
Drop back and give her some space Salty, but let’s stay on her. I gotta’ see the end of
this little crazy parade.”

     “Oh-Oh,” Saltino chirped. “You must be psychic chief. Speakin’ of parades, take a
look in your side rear-view mirror. That’s my jogger witness and he’s got a crowd with
him.”

      Sure enough, not too far back and walking briskly up the winding stone cemetery

pathway was a man in a red running outfit and a sizeable platoon of other non-descript

citizens.


     “Should I call in for some back up chief?” Saltino asked as he reached for the
Motorola handset mounted just beneath a luminescent green GPS screen.

     “Seems to me like she’s tryin’ her best to make sumthin’ right…not to do anything
wrong.I think she can…I mean, we can handle this,” Sheriff Bench replied as he 
intercepted DeputySaltino’s bony hand and directed it up to the steering wheel.
“We’ll just follow the leader.”

     “Roger that chief,” from Saltino as he geared down. They rolled ahead…slowly.

*     *     *

     “Lookee’ there chief she’s cuttin’ across into the grass. She’s headin’ off down into
that valley,” Saltino alerted as he glared over the steering wheel.
    
     “Hmm,” from Bench as he watched through the windshield, “the valley of the shadow
of death.”

     “How’s that chief?”

     “Nothing… pull up there where she stomped over the stone curb. I think she’s
zeroing in on her target.”

     “This is too weird,” breathed Saltino as he guided the squad car over.

*     *     *

    
     In time the entire throng consisting of the colorful jogger, assorted curious onlookers
and the two steadfast, but standoffish cops had formed a fair sized semi-circle around the
now stationary iron maiden. She had managed to position herself, by means of a series
of several rather deft hydraulic maneuvers, directly astride a tidy elongated oblong
hillock…a grave. The mechanical mom, poised there ominously straddling the green
grass grave, held the alabaster marble headstone directly out in front of her with cable
whirring titanium arms. She kept it out there for a moment studying the chiseled
dedication on its smooth face. Then, suddenly, she combined a shocking motorized thrust
with the omnipresent force of gravity and planted the polished stone directly on top of the
heartless bronze marker placed there by the government to ‘honor’ her son. For the
briefest of moments the earth shook.

     “Jesus!” Saltino called out.
     
     There were assorted gasps and shouts of surprise from the other stunned onlookers.
Then, an eerie but peaceful silence followed. Her mission now complete, the mechanized
woman rotated and stomped off back for the cemetery’s front gate. Sheriff Bench slowly
stepped forward from his position at the rear of the sight. Officer Saltino dutifully
followed him.

     The sun hung overhead in the blue sky a silent witness, like a burning golden medal. 
    
     Bench pulled up just shy of the silent marble monument. He stared down at the
chiseled inscription for quite some time. Soon the others quietly advanced and did likewise.
They all stood there all around and about. Some removed their caps and bowed their heads
while still more than a few others did drop to their knees. The sheriff removed his dark
blue service cap and positioned it over his heaving chest.

     “Take your damn hat off you idiot,” he ordered with a slight sniffle at the gawking
Saltino. “This man lying here was an American soldier!”



                                                   _____ The End _______ 

Monday, January 18, 2016

Enter The Drone

Doug Donnan
Executive Editor/OMNI-GENRE+MAGAZINE!
donnan.doug@yahoo.com




                                    
                       








"qqqq [ENTER] the Drone"



                               by

                       Doug Donnan


[ 2018 / San Diego, Ca. / Chevron Gas & Go (GOSE Lic.) Serv Sta / ATM ]

=========================================================

WELCOME! / BIENVENIDO!

=========================================================

Screen #1

Please choose desired language
Then press [ENTER]
H

q English

q Spanish
____________________________________________________________

q [ENTER]
____________________________________________________________

You Have Selected 'English' / Please Continue

======================================================

Screen #2

Please key in your Desired Request Identification # (DRID#)
Then Press [ENTER]
H

qqqqqq---[qqq]

______________________________________________________________

q [ENTER]
______________________________________________________________

You have entered a DRONE SURVEILLANCE SERVICE # (DSS#)*
There is a $100 fee for this service. Do you accept this fee?
If you accept please key in your Credit or Debit Card Number.
Then Press [ENTER]
H

q Mastercard qqqqqqqqqqqqqqq

q Visa qqqqqqqqqqqqqqq

q Discover qqqqqqqqqqqqqq

q Other qqqqqqqqqqqqqqq


 
*(The DSS is for a 24 hour period 'only')
________________________________________________________________

q [ENTER]
________________________________________________________________

=========================================================

Screen #3

Please select 'one' of the following. Then key in the appropriate information
Then Press [ENTER]
H

q Private Residence/Home  (Street Name/Address Number)

qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq

q Automobile/Motorcycle (VIN#)

qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq

_________________________________________________________________

q [ENTER]
_________________________________________________________________

==========================================================

You have entered the VIN of a 2015 Toyota Corolla/pplate/tag [CAL-GAL!]
The 24 hour Drone Surveillance Period will begin after you press [ENTER]

*The completed 24 hour period DSS video will be available to you in its entirety
(VID/DISC Format) in approximately 72 hours. A copy may be picked up at any
one of the licensed participating 'Gov-Op-Sky-Eye' service stations in your area.
[ENTER]
H
__________________________________________________________________

q [ENTER]
__________________________________________________________________
  
===========================================================

$100.00... DSS Service Fee
    10.00... Gill's Chevron Sta. (loc. charge)
    15.00... GOSE Video Processing Fee
$125.00... Total Charged To Your [Visa] Account
 ======


                                                     [THANK YOU!]

==============================================================
Transac #12146/ATM #43 @Chevron Sta/$125/DSP Cred/Post/Fin///end...end...end
==============================================================
==============================================================
==============================================================



                                               _____ The End _____