"He's not my friend!"
"Apologies. Yourself and your co-representative, a conservative..."
"Republican!"
Zaxoon reached for his cup and drank some coffee. He'd have to order sandwiches.
"This is a court of law. I am your judge."
The Democrat was the first to bite.
"What's the charge?"
"Ah, I see one of you is awake. The prosecution is represented by Mr. Aphandra over here."
A large tree shook its branches and rustled its leaves.
"Translation, please."
A small alien ran over to the tree and listened.
"I am a victim."
"Thank you, Mr. Aphandra. Now, as humans, you are here on a charge of pollution and gross misuse of the third planet, and prejudice and elimination of other species. I have already seen an immense amount of evidence Mr. Aphandra presented to myself..."
"Sorry, who are you?"
"Zaxoon 48892, member of the UCP and as I said before, your judge today. Keep up. How do you plead?"
The two senators, recovering from shock, answered in unison.
"Not guilty."
"State your defense, humans."
"May I?" asked the Republican to his colleague.
"Why not? It'll be a novelty for you to be first."
The Republican shrugged off the remark and continued.
"We use this planet responsibly. If anyone feels we have misused it or created a victim of any creature it is because it wasn't profitable enough to..."
The Democrat stopped his colleague in mid-sentence.
"Please, excuse my fellow representative."
"Excused. Please continue."
The Democrat coughed and began his speech.
"The planet and its environment are infinitely precious, and we as a race must protect it from pollution and destruction from thoughtlessness, and by creating such legislation as to both benefit ourselves, our economy and the planet, we..."
"Stop. I've heard enough."
"But..."
"In your lease agreement, as signed by OgOg, supreme leader of the human race..."
Zaxoon showed the humans the lease contract.
"What's that 'x'?"
"It's OgOg's signature. As I was saying, it's clear that your species have broken most, if not all, articles written under your agreement."
"Our what?"
"It's all here in black and turquoise."
"What?"
"I hereby evict you from the third planet."
"Are you holding a gun to America's head, sir?"
"You must leave the planet as soon as the papers are through. Do you have anything further to say?"
The Democrat thought a while.
"How long does that take?"
Zaxoon calculated the difference.
"With your time system, 200 years."
They conferred, smiled and answered in unison.
"Okay."
46 - So close
(haboob, high diving horse, Birmingham Jail song, Yves Rossy, the Jetman)
They sat huddled together inside the building, one reading a magazine.
"A dust storm. A damn dust storm!"
"Actually, in these parts, it's called a 'haboob'."
"I don't care what they call it in these parts! It's stopping me…us from reaching that temple!"
The temporary cover over the entrance was taking a beating.
"Yes, so close, and to be stopped by an intense wind of sand carried on an atmospheric gravity…"
"Will you shut up! Can't we just go walk there in this? It's only a few hundred feet below."
"It's not safe. We might get blown away, or get lost, even in this short a distance. You might even go blind. I'd say dive for it, but you could be scooped up by the sand and taken elsewhere. It's best if we wait."
"We can't wait. We've already lost our horses, most of our kit and run out of food and water. And we still need to somehow get back."
"Did you know, horses can dive?"
"What are you going on about?"
"Well, if we hadn't lost them, we could've used them to dive down."
"You know, I have absolutely no idea what you're going on about!"
"There was a high diving horse attraction back in Atlantic City at the beginning of the century. The girl was blind, too, the one who rode them down."
"Blind? Atlantic City? Is it the sand or the heat which has razzled your brain?"
"Neither."
"We're here to get that treasure in the temple! Not swap trivia!"
One stood up, the other went back to his magazine. The sand hit their shelter hard.
"Lucky we found this place."
"It's the gatehouse to the temple."
"Oh, yes, so it is. Oh, look."
"What? What have you fou…oh, your magazine."
"There's an article on Yves Rossy, the Jetman, quite interesting. He almost died in his first attempts."
"We will too if we can't think of a way to get out of here."
"If only we had one of those jet-propelled wings."
"Do you know how they work?"
"Err, no. Hang on…no, the article doesn't go into such details."
"He jumps out of a plane and then deploys the wings."
"Oh. Not much good on the ground, then?"
"No. Anything else which can help in that magazine of yours?"
"No, but it'll be handy in a minute, my stomach's giving me jip."
"That's all I need. Can't you take that outside…no, I guess not."
They were on opposite ends of the shelter, one at the entrance, the other in a corner.
"Oh, well, time for a sing-a-long, I guess…
Down in the valley, the valley so low
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow
Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow;
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.
…hey, that's a bit appropriate, isn't it? Hello? Are you here? Must've gone out for a moment. Well, I can wait, I've got all the time in the world until that haboob calms down..."
47 - Winter Equinox Open Final- Marital Strife
(The Golden Fleece, A Mudskipper, James Bond Mini Spy Kit, A rhinestone Tiara)
"Right! That's it! I've had enough!"
She popped the sucker dart from her forehead without tripping over the seen-better-days goat puppet from the 'Sound of Music', grabbed the toy Colt 45 that Little Timmy was playing with only a moment ago, and put it in the attaché case of her husband's James Bond Mini Spy Kit target game, apparently used by Sean Connery himself when promoting the toy way back in 1965.
"Hey! Be careful, that's a collector's piece."
"Then why is he playing with it?"
"Because he knows how to be careful, not like you and your elephant feet. You bust Audrey Hepburn's rhinestone tiara from 'My Fair Lady' the other day."
She stood there fuming.
"I tell you why he's playing with it! Because we don't have money to buy him any real toys! You keep buying all this 60's movie memorabilia crap!"
It was his turn to get upset.
"Crap? They are pieces of classic movie history! How dare you, you troglodyte!"
She moved over to the table and picked up a blue toy.
"What about this, then? A Muddy Mudskipper cereal bowl caddy? This isn't classic movie history!"
"Come on, woman! 'The Woody Woodpecker Show'? Duh! Not to mention Harris Peet!"
How could she argue with such nonsense?
"And this?"
She pointed to a plastic figure.
"That's a sword fighting skeleton prop from 'Jason and the Argonauts', 1963, created by the late but great Ray Harryhausen."
"'Jason and the Argonauts'?"
"The golden fleece?"
"But that movie's not even a classic!"
"Dynamation! Before all this terrible CGI!"
"You've really gone too far! You spend all our money on these! Eve
n Little Timmy had to spend his first few months sleeping in the original black cot from 'Rosemary’s Baby' because we had no money to get another! You’re crazy, absolutely crazy!"
"Oh, don't talk rot!"
She picked up an old chewed end of a cigar.
"You almost ripped my mother's head off when she tried to throw this away!"
"That's a stubbed out cigar from 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly'!"
"This house is full of your shit!"
"Shit?"
"You can't move without tripping over something!"
She threw a pair of flippers at him which were sitting on the sideboard.
"Hey! They're from 'The Graduate', priceless!"
"And these?"
A worn-out disgusting looking pair of dirty white undies.
"They stink! I'm going to wash them!"
"You can't do that! They're Tom Courtenay's shorts from 'The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner'!"
Next was a piece of wood.
"And what the hell is this?"
"A broken cue from 'The Hustler', 1961!"
"I just can't believe you, I really can't!"
Red faced, she dragged Little Timmy out of the room to help him put on his pyjamas and clean his teeth before bedtime.
"I guess that means no chains and restraints as worn by Charlton Heston in the 1968 version of 'Planet of the Apes' tonight, then?"
She shouted back from the hall.
"Only if you do the washing up!"
48 - A Eulogy for Suzie Wobblebottom?
(Mati Hari, toilet roll hat, single roller skate, house plant)
"Suzie Wobblebottom…"
Suzie what? 'Wobblebottom'? Who the hell has a name like 'Wobblebottom'? I wish I'd had time to be briefed on this one. Still, it's a paid job.
"…was many things if not interesting."
Not many people, those ones in the front pews over on the left are watching me, they must be the reason why I'm here, the small deaf contingency. They're shuffling a bit, though.
"Gathered here today, I see many friends, family and neighbours, who now pay their respects to this wonderful woman."
That part over there set aside for family is almost empty, save for a few shifty-looking people seated way at the back.
"Suzie, when she was young and fancy-free, could never stand by without putting a smile on any passing young lad's face…"
Eh-up. What?
"…with a love life which would put Mata Hari to shame and make even the whores in Mustang Ranch blush."
What the…? Are you serious? Does this man expect me to sign that?
"She was the flower of her district, her state, her country, especially when the circus or army came to town."
Who is this man? Is he insinuating that this woman was the local bike?
"Sadly, her overflowing love for all was to come to an untimely end after one night of passion with a Swahili deck swabber on a long-distance ocean liner when she caught an extremely violent case of Gonorrhea."
You have got to be kidding! How much am I getting paid for this? Whatever it is, it ain't enough!
"After many years of loneliness and depravity, those close to her watched her turn from an open, free wandering butterfly of a girl to a dry, insane, barren spinster, the cocoon of which you see before you now."
Who was this guy?
"Whoever can forget that local fete when she came dressed in nothing but her birthday suit and a toilet roll hat while carrying a Californian flannelbush, her favourite house plant. When asked why, she replied that she loved the plant so much that she kept it with her at all times, forgiving its irritation to her skin and eyes. The toilet paper hat was there as a convenient way to wipe away her tears. Of course, no mention of her nudity, the batty old dear."
Uh-uh, some people are leaving. There's a guy over there on the phone.
"And of her merits, the versatile and skillful way she tore through the town on a single roller skate, her Sunday best black lingerie slip flapping in the wind, among other things…"
Oh, that's sick! The poor woman!
"Suzie was the life of the party, a friend to all who'd have her…"
That guy with the phone, he's pointing over here…Police, he called the Police!
"Stop that man! He's ruined my Great aunt Nellie's funeral! And grab that damn sign language interpreter of his, too!"
What? She's not Suzie…I knew it! Where…? Where'd he go? He owes me money! Shit, the Police! I'm off!
49 - Muppet Respect
(muppet, escalator, stop sign, any 1970s book)
(Names have been changed to protect the innocent, namely to save me from any incrimination of copyright)
"What's on?"
"Let's see...oh, right, the Muppet Show! Always good for a laugh."
We sat down on the sofa to get ready for some entertainment.
"Dermit! We've gotta have that flamingo dancing act on right now!" Cooter came racing backstage.
"But Miss Hoggy is stuck in the elevator!" said Dermit.
"Dermie! Get me outta here!"
"We're working on it, Miss Hoggy!"
The elevator engineer turned to the camera.
"If you'd kept to the maximum weight restrictions..."
"I heard that!"
"Dermit!" shouted Cooter.
"Send in the clowns!"
A collection of crazy clowns with chainsaws ran onto the stage. Dermit heard the sound of screams from the audience and the motors slicing through limbs.
"Send out the clowns!"
A clown with a bloody chainsaw came back offstage.
"What? We're killing them out there!"
"That's my problem! Cooter, get them off the stage!"
The clowns left, disappointed.
"No one likes clowns anymore."
"Especially with chainsaws," retorted Dermit. Fonzie appeared with a green zombie.
"I'll go on, Dermit, with my new partner, Braindead."
"But he's a zombie!"
"And you're gonna hold that against him?"
Cooter appeared again.
"Dermit, they've started throwing food!"
"Oh, Dermie! When exactly are you going to get me outta here?" asked Miss Hoggy, still stuck.
"In a moment, Miss Hoggy!"
The engineer shook his head and restarted his cutting torch.
"I promise!"
"Now they're throwing their colostomy bags and Prosthetic limbs!"
Bonzo walked by with an artificial leg.
"Hey, I can use this in an act.Where's my wonderful Camilla? Camilla?"
Fonzie went down on one knee.
"Please, Dermit, please!"
"Oh, okay, then! Go! Get out there!" Dermit sighed.
The music started and the double act went on, wearing large blonde wigs.
"I tell ya Fonzie, I got stuck in an elevator the other day for 3 hours!"
"3 hours! Derrrrrmiiiiie!" shouted Miss Hoggy offstage.
"3 hours?" asked Fonzie.
"Yeah, it was torture."
"Well, that's nothing. I got stuck on an escalator for six!" Fonzie looked towards the audience, accompanied by a drum roll and cymbal crash.
Stafler and Warndorf woke up in their balcony seats.
"If I had a joke that flat..."
"...it would be a pancake!" They both laughed.
Braindead was now holding a sign showing a red cross painted over a sine function.
"Hey, what ya doing?"
"I'm protesting against Trigonometry."
"Really, well, what's that?"
"It's a 'stop sine'."
Another drum roll and cymbal crash. Stafler and Warndorf started again.
"Well, that one really 'divided' the audience."
Fonzie tried to ignore them.
"What have you got there, buddy?"
"It's Bruce Lee's "Tao of Jeet Kune Do"." Braindead was eating it. "I like to read and digest a book."
There were a few la
ughs.
"Man, I don't know about you, but I'm always hungry an hour after eating Chinese."
Stafler and Warndorf beat the drums.
"I don't know about you, but I found that one 'wonton'."
Drum roll and cymbal crash.
Fonzie and Braindead left the stage.
"How did it go, Fonzie?" asked Dermit.
"Don't ask, just don't ask."
49 - One in a Million (the story entered on TIW)
(muppet, escalator, stop sign, any 1970s book)
I guess the signs were there early on that Jeffrey was different. In kindergarten you could see it. All the others had teddy bears and fluffy pink elephants and horses for comfort toys to sleep with. Not Jeffrey. He had a Gonzo puppet, a grotesque, cross between a bird and a who-knows-what smiling purple muppet. Running around shouting 'The Great Gonzo' and searching for chickens were two of Jeffrey's favourite pastimes while the others hit the swings and slides.
It didn't get better. When we got stuck in an escalator in that Greek hotel, he announced to all those present whom we'd befriended, a French family and an elderly Englishman, that to calm us all down he would recite the Lord's Prayer. It was okay until about the twelfth time around, he was quite cute in his little bowtie and cardigan, his eight year old eyes shining through his prescribed glasses. But it took hours for help to arrive. We never saw those people again. Ever.
Then he got heavily into sci-fi, what with Star Wars, Star Trek and all. The greatest for him was Douglas Adams. He used to be a huge Hitchhikers fan. For years he'd celebrate Adams' birthday with the towel thing and post a picture of it up on the web. He was even the leader of a local HHGTTG fan club, until that is he picked up an old British copy of the book in one of those conventions he was always going to and found out that the words 'Belgium', 'kneebiter' and 'swut' were not the original words used by Adams. Now, whenever he sees or hears of any reference to 'Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy', be it book, film, TV series or any actor or quote connected to it, he throws himself into a rage and rants on about how Adams debased himself as a writer with the use of coarse foul language and that it was actually American censorship which brought the artistic quality out of the book.
And it's grown from there, really, his ever annoying behaviour. Still with the glasses and bowtie, he starts shouting in a crowd and goes off on one, telling someone about how everything is just one big conspiracy theory and that we should stand up against the oppression around us.
One of his latest stunts was to sit at the crossroads waiting for cars to come by and step in front of them with a Stop sign in hand, making them screech to a halt. He then proceeded to tell the driver, from where he stood, how their car was destroying the environment and that they should go to work or wherever they were going on foot or by horse or bicycle. Usually the driver beeped him out of the way with force and he begrudgingly moved. I also saw them get out and belt him one. Serves him right, really. He's one irritating piece of s**t.