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From Our Editors
Thanks to a tiny tear in the space-time continuum, we are able to glimpse the future of Golden State Car Wash as a robot-polishing station and Dippin’ Dots parlor.
B-402 could feel his circuits overloading. His mother blamed his delicate constitution, but his laser scanner begged to differ—the problem was dust, not a dearth of chrome-plated nerve endings. Since his last trip to Golden Galaxy Exo-Shine, he’d exploded two asteroids and house-trained his pet Roomba. Then there was a trip to Saturn’s moons, where volcanoes spew confetti every 7.6 seconds. Yes, a polish was in order. He set his jets to turbo and headed south, past the grove of neon palms and the black hole that ate the Hollywood sign. Sometimes, the beauty of it all seemed too much to bear.
Eons ago, in the early 21st century, Golden Galaxy was known as Golden State Car Wash. Here, covalent bonds of hydrogen and oxygen bombarded vans, sedans, and history’s first car-and-creature crossbreed: the Model T. rex. Back then, machines cleansed the exteriors, and human helpers rooted debris from the seats and floor mats. But over time, motor-buggies gave way to jet packs, and Golden State Car Wash started catering to other standard features of cyborg anatomy. As B-402 stepped into the polishing pod, he fancied it a time machine. When he exited, shiny and fresh, he could grow oranges, sunbathe by an ocean, or become a star in an ancient film instead of Orion’s garish bodybuilding belt.
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