My news server's flaky and I'm not getting any incoming posts. I thought I'd send this out to relieve (or perhaps enhance) the boredom.
It had been a long, hot, but deeply fulfilling day for the Holy Paving Crew [tm]. The Atlantic Ocean was nothing now but a bad memory, and in a single afternoon they had swept across Britain. The only delay had been the absence of the South Devon branch of the Chrome Moon Faction, when the Pave Foreman looked in to check his PPP certificate. However, they had pressed on, rolling flat the Quantocks, Cotswolds, Chilterns and other pathetic bumps on the Earth's surface. As they moved into East Anglia the pace quickened, as they found that fate had surely intended that totally flat cultural desert for paving in the first place.
However, it had not escaped the crew's notice that Suffolk was the home of one of the mavericks in the Paver fraternity. Dave Rogers, Moon Chromer and part-time heretic, was known to operate in these parts. What were his loyalties, what was his agenda? When the time came, would he join the paving crusade, or would he attempt to confuse and delay the march of Paveworld [tm]?
Suddenly, the character of the terrain changed beneath the wheels of the Pave Vehicles. Instead of loathsome green biodiversity, the ground now gave way to purest asphalt. No indication could be found as to who had made this contribution to the noblest work of Mankind. The crew began to increase speed, savouring for the first time the joy that would be theirs when the work was done, rejoicing in this unexpected reward for all the years of ground-breaking and tree destroying that had led them far from metalled road.
At last, the global positioning system told them that they had reached Ipswich, perhaps the least important place they had so far encountered. But of the town itself there was no sign. Nothing. Just beautiful asphalt as far as the eye could see. The crew halted, mystified. There was silence, broken only by the sound of the Dumbass Truck Driver scratching himself.
As they looked around, the Pave Foreman's highly trained eye made out something different about the surrounding asphalt. Already almost vanished due to the miraculous self-healing properties of asphalt were tell-tale signs that this area had, at some time in the recent past, been subjected to great heat and a mysterious crushing force. The roadbed, well constructed, had held, but faint ripples could just be seen in the asphalt itself.
Suddenly, the Sacred Screed Man emitted a vast cloud of intestinal gas from both ends simultaneously, then spoke.
"Hey boss, it ain't dark!"
"Don't be ridiculous!" snapped the Pave Foreman. "It's asphalt, isn't it? It looks dark enough to me!"
"I think he means the sky", put in the Pave Goddess, who had just arrived with the Sacred Pay Checks. "It's nearly midnight in this time zone, but it hasn't gone dark yet!"
As she spoke, a chance shift in the mighty clouds of smog caused an unexpected flash of light to reflect off the rhinestones that studded her leather bikini. Looking up, the Holy Pave Crew saw a mighty light in the sky, like a second sun. And as the pure, harsh moonlight struck the asphalt at their feet, the last traces of the damage to the paved surface vanished like an extinct species.
In the distance, with a sound like mocking laughter, a HyperCar roared into life...
