Read Greegs & Ladders - By Zack Mitchell and Danny Mendlow Page 43
CHAPTER 41
Lincran Revolution
We were high on the promise of owning planet Lincra. We were also high on what had been left in the glove box.
Our plans were to fail, for during our journey the beard became useless. When we arrived at Lincra we learned that Commander Flook had been assassinated, and that the entire planet had entered a state of riotous turmoil caused by the unexpected yet well underway toppling of the Kroonum Ladder Union.
From orbit we could see the glow of the towering bonfires. The people of Lincra were gleefully rejoicing in the overdue burning of ladders and all things ladder-related. There were a lot of ladders to burn, hence the towering aspect of the fires. Much of the planet would be forever damaged during what has now been become known as the Age of Bonfires. At least the focus was forever taken off the damage we'd caused by our 'intentional crashing of an Obotron ship' episode.
Of particular note amongst the damage was the decimation of the investment banking corral farms. The ladder-revolution caused a crippling universal spike in gas prices, Lincra being practically the primary source of local IB.
How had interspersed throngs of civilian Lincran peasants managed to overthrow the well-funded and generally indomitable KULMOOG you ask? Everything happened while we were away on Garbotron. It seems the last will and testament of resident Lincran map-maker Nickbas L. Turkey had surfaced, proceeding to startle everyone with the vast amount of money it was worth. Mr. Turkey was shockingly in possession of far more money than was owned by every faction of the KULMOOG combined. No one was quite sure where he got this money, for he never seemed to do anything other than make maps and then give them away for free. Nickbas Turkey's vast fortune was found in the underground facilities of an obscure storage meteor near the Invisible Dimension. By the looks of the caked on layers of dust it would seem Nickbas had not moved or used any of his money in a long time.
Nickbas L. Turkey had always known that if he left his money to the people of Lincra they would in turn use the money to overthrow the KULMOOG. Saving the money to free the people was his purpose in life.
The civilians of Lincra proceeded to spend the money on whatever weaponry was more advanced than that owned by the KULMOOG. With this new weaponry the people were finally able to banish the KULMOOG into oblivion, followed by the immediate celebratory burning of ladders and all things ladder-related.
The ladders of Lincra would soon be replaced with teleportation booths, floating elevators and more shuttle-sliders. In later years this would prove to be a disastrous choice, for no one stopped to think about how all their physical exercise came from climbing ladders. Without ladders, the people of Lincra grew lazy to the brink of Greegdom. Many suffered a gradual disintegration of their bodily cells caused by perpetual physical apathy.
Being the one to have killed Nickbas and therefore being the one to have truly set in motion the toppling of the KULMOOG, Reg was now looked at as a sort of God amongst the Lincran peasants. We found him occupying the same lavish lifestyle we'd expected to gain from the beard.
Reg's compound was atop a spire in the center of the parking dome, reached by a mile-high set of stone stairs. The stairs were completely superfluous, as nobody else was really allowed in Reg's compound to begin with, and the select few inner-class minions always chose teleportation over the mile of stairs. Aside from the daunting stairs, a moat populated by the deadliest creatures of Hroon was busily under construction.
“What is this place?” I said, pointing at the tower. “What is happening here?”
“Don't you see?!” yelled Rip. “Look at all the bonfires of ladders! The KULMOOG has finally been overthrown!”
“Is that a good thing?” I asked.
“For the people of Lincra, yes.”
“For our plan, no,” finished Wilx. “Flook has either lost command or been killed, so impersonating him is a moot point.”
I threw the now-useless beard into the molten core of Lincra. The core was now visible from space, thanks to the collision of our crashed Obotron. The ship was still sticking out of the planet awaiting a proposed removal operation. The specters of the crew-members would not be free to roam until the ship was released from the fiery limbo of the planetary core. They were not likely to be freed, as the ship removal operation was being funded by the ladder makers, most of which had been lynched by now, leaving the question of who was going to do all this strenuous labour.
Later we realized the beard would have been worth a fortune if claimed as the actual beard shaved off the assassinated body of Commander Flook. Oh well. 'Fortunes come and fortunes go, the important thing is to enjoy the ride' so says The Book of The Immortals.
“Should we go?” asked Wilx.
“Why don't we see who's in there,” I suggested, pointing at the newly formed compound in the middle of the parking dome. “Looks like the sort of place where a leader would live.”
“Leaders of planets are not usually good people,” said Wilx. “Haven't you learned to avoid them? The higher up the leader, the greater the danger.”
“How about this,” suggested Rip, “instead of barging directly into the compound of what is clearly the highest up leader of this planet, we go down to the surface and ask some of the peasants what's going on. Gather the intel before making the move.”
We all agreed this was a good idea for the moment. We were quickly told about how Reg, the former Greeg-Keeper/Kroonum Judge was now the God of Lincra. All because he killed Nickbas, he who left the fortune required to overthrow the KULMOOG.
“Reg?!” snarled Rip. “He's the god of Lincra?”
“This is unacceptable,” said Wilx.
“Something must be done.”
“What?” I asked.
“We'll kill Reg.”
“How?”
“We'll get help.”
“Who's going to want to take on the leader of the most popular planet within five trillion universes?” I asked.
“Think about it. Who most deserves revenge on Reg?”
“The Crabbits,” I immediately replied.
“Right. Where exactly do Crabbits live?” asked Rip.
“Many different places,” said Wilx. “You know Grebular? That planet has a plentiful supply of Crabbits.”
“Isn't that a shape-shifting planet?”
“Yeah. Is that a problem for you?”
“Maybe. We'll see when we get there.”
“It's the closest planet with Crabbits, so it wins by default,” said Wilx. “We can't afford to go anywhere else. Prices of Investment Banker have multiplied by pi in the last few hours.”