The star on my train ticket seemed to mock me as I bumped my way through the crowded station. My hopes had been too high and my attention to detail too nonexistent: I thought this was going to be a shooting star tour, not some boring ride on a crummy old train. For a week now I had been daydreaming about frolicking with the star people, eating moon cheese, playing with star kittens and watching the star folk battle to the death for my amusement, gladiator-style.

I let out a long sigh as I looked around the station, which looked so very pedestrian. The newly laid cement floors were shiny, but not as shiny as a star; the giant clock hanging on the wall was accurate, but not as accurate as a star clock; the Spirit of Calesco - the train I was to board - had a shiny gold plaque with its name engraved on it, but the gold wasn't as shiny as a star. Once fired up, a thick trail of smoke would no doubt billow from the smokestack, but that's not as cool as the tail of a shooting star!

The people around me were certainly not as awesome as star people would be. One pulled a tissue out of her sleeve and blew her nose. Ick! Another person had his arm wrapped up in a cast. I knew without asking that the injury had not been sustained during a battle to the death. It was probably the result of something more mild, such a fall down the stars or a boating accident. Blech.

After boarding the lame old train and being shown to the stupid room I'd be sleeping in, I decided it was time for a pee break. Earlier in the day I had drank quite a lot of this sparkly, fizzy drink new to Menewsha called Star Juice. I had hoped it might transform me into a human/star person hybrid, so that I might be more readily accepted into the star people community.

I wandered the cars of the train for quite some time, looking for the bathroom that didn't seem to exist.
"Nnnng," I groaned, trying to walk and cross my legs at the same time. "Rrrrgh... Grah!"
After opening yet another door that did not lead to any sort of toilet, I lost control. Of my emotions, that is, not my bladder.
"WHERE'S THE FLIBBITY-FLABBIT BATHROOM AROUND HERE, MO'SAKRA?!" I screamed, shaking a nearby little girl by the lapels. "IF I DON'T FIND IT SOON, I'M GONNA WEE-WEE ALL OVER THIS DIGGETY-DOODLE FLOOR!"
The little girl in my hands started to cry and a woman wearing a disapproving expression took her away from me.
"Excuse me, do you need some help?" A member of the train staff said from behind me.
"YOU BET YOUR NOODLY PATOOTIE I DO, GREGORY!" I screamed. I don't know if that person's name was Gregory. In fact, it probably wasn't, as that person was a woman. "WHERE'S THE FOOPIN' BATHROOM?"
"There is a bathroom located in each passenger's personal quarters," the train woman said calmly. She seemed quite unflappable. She wasn't flapped.
"FLAPPIN' THANK YOU," I shrieked, unsure of why I was still shrieking. I wasn't sure why I was using "flap" as an expletive, for that matter. Must have been all that Star Juice.