With a tiny bit of jet lag that erased an entire day aboard that aluminum time machine, Dim Deter decided to step out for the evening in a section of town that welcomed human darkness. King’s Cross was the red-light district of Sydney that lit up when the sun took off for the outback. A muscular Turk stood out in front of an establishment that served inhibition-crushing alcohol and female human skin as an hors d’oeuvre to ripen the palate. Dim Deter watched his new world unfold as the carnival backdrop came alive to entice the fleshy robots to part with their money for brain pleasures. He politely resisted the Turk’s commands for entry and made his way down William Street to find a coloric dispensary and install some authentic Australian cuisine into his empty furnace. Mr. Deter threw caution to the wind and ordered a Big Mac and fries from McDonald’s. So much for exotic staples. Walking the streets for miles up until midnight, he encountered a museum of human figures that satisfied his people watching agenda and returned to his flop house hotel that he rented for 3 days. As he drifted off to sleep amongst the city’s din, he chuckled at all the land locked countries that sent its sailors scanning the streets of Sydney for his entertainment. Enough of this night’s memories; it was time to go to sleep and prepare for tomorrow’s job of buying a car to launch him into the bowels of Australia. The air escapade was over and now it was time to get down to business: to transition into a mode that American males are very familiar with, a road trip.

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