supremeness...
Victor - Czar, you legally could not even represent Deer Planet. You weren't born there...
Caller 2 - Yes, I, he was!
Victor - Sir, I'm quite sure that you weren't born on Deer Planet.
Caller 2 - But of course he was!
Victor - Only deer live there!
Caller 2 - Well that's... simply conjecture. Besides, it isn't the point. The point is that Supreme Galactic Czar Percy Cocoro is further exemplifying his capacity for strategic thought and diplomatic grace! Any other opinion would clearly be treasonous.
Victor - (Long pause and deep sigh) Alright. Thank you Czar Cocoro.
Caller 2 - You're quite welcome. Wait, no!
- Dial Tone -
Victor - We're going to take a brief commercial break, followed by the IPR Weekly Spotlight. Stay tuned!
Narrator - Opening this Friday in select theaters across the galaxy, a coming of age story that is as relatable as it is long: Brembo the Farm Lizard.
Young Brembo - When I grow up, I want to explore the universe!
Brembo's Father - Brembo, you can't… You have to stay and help your lizard family tend the dust crops for the rest of your life.
Narrator - The difficulty of choices...
Brembo's Mother - Brembo, no! You can't go! You can't leave us like this!
Brembo - I'm sorry, ma! There's a whole universe out there! A lizard like me has gotta see it.
Narrator - Life lessons...
Masked Stranger - Welcome to Sketchoria. Would you like to exchange your Lizard Coins for Sketch Dollars? They can be used anywhere in the galaxy...
Brembo - Sure! I'll go ahead and exchange them all. What a kind stranger... And such a neat face-mask!
Narrator - The pain of discrimination...
Angry Landlord - No lizards allowed!
Brembo - Please let me stay, I beg you. I was swindled out of all my money and I'm cold and hungry.
Angry Landlord - I said 'no lizards' and I meant 'no lizards'! You lizard types are all the same... (Door slams)
Brembo - I should have never left the farm...
Narrator - Love...
Amorphous Blue Blob with Feathers - The galaxy will never accept our love, Brembo. We're too different!
Brembo - I don't care that you're an amorphous blue blob with feathers, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
Amorphous Blue Blob with Feathers - You make me the happiest.... thing.... in the universe, Brembo!
Narrator - And other situations....
Sergeant Mason of the United Galactic Special Forces Battalion - Brembo, nooooooo!
(Loud explosions)
Narrator - Brembo, the Farm Lizard...
Victor - Welcome back to Intergalactic Public Radio. I know I speak for the whole station when I say that we simply can't wait to see Brembo the Farm Lizard. There is absolutely no other way I'd choose to spend seven hours on a Friday. On to our Weekly Spotlight... We've been getting a lot of transmissions from listeners saying they are very excited about this week's topic. This week's topic on the IPR Weekly Spotlight is the Wool-Ball squad of Pppleion's District Eleven. Wool-Ball, as many of you already know, is a game in which teams compete against each other to shear a flock of sheep, amass the freshly cut wool into a ball, and push it up a steep hill. What few enthusiasts of wool-ball know, is that it once was not a game at all. We have with us today, Pppleion's District Eleven wool-ball squad historian, Tusk Pinkton, to discus the origins of the sport.
Tusk - It's a pleasure to be on IPR, but I mus correct you. It's pronounced P-p-leon. The third 'P' is silent.
Victor - Ah, my apologies.
Tusk - Well, wool-ball started right there on Pppleion. Some of the districts like to take credit for founding the sport, but in actuality, Pppleion wasn't even divided into districts at the inception of wool-ball. Wool-Ball did, in fact, cause the splitting of Pppleion into eighteen different districts, however. After teams formed, the towns in which they formed had to close off due to the fierce wool-ball rivalries that formed.
Victor - Wow. Interesting and enlightening. So wool-ball is taken quite seriously on Pppleion?
Tusk - Heh... Yes, Victor. It's taken quite seriously. It was briefly outlawed eight centuries ago, resulting in a coup staged by the district thirteen wool-ball team. Thank goodness for their act of heroism. District thirteen is now a bunch of wonkydunchers though, of course...
Susan the Perpetual Intern - Sorry to interrupt, but we're getting in a lot of calls... and threats... from district thirteen of Pppleion. They are demanding to speak to -
Victor - Susan, this is not a call in segment.
Tusk - And it's pronounced P-p-leon. The third 'P' is silent.
Victor - I'm sorry for the interruption. Please, do go on.
Tusk - Right, where was I... Oh, yes. The origins of wool-ball. You see, wool-ball began over a millennium ago. The residents of Diakololombo, now known as the Sky District, offered the villagers at the foot of their mountain ski resorts and beyond a handsome fee in return for the first fifteen burloughs of wool delivered to the ski resort atop the highest mountain at the beginning of the Brutally Cold Season.
Victor - For our listeners that are unfamiliar with Pppleionic units of measurement, could you describe the size of one burlough of wool?
Tusk - Hmmm... One burlough of wool is roughly equivalent to a standard four door aqueous transportation orb.
Victor - Oooh! Pretty big.
Tusk - Yes, quite! In the beginning, each of the eighteen villages took part in the shearing of the sheep and the balling up of the wool into burloughs, but when it finally came time to push the wool balls up the mountain, they realized that not every village would get to sell all of their wool, so the race was on!
Victor - Wow. Truly fascinating. Now, I was under the impression that games of wool-ball can get violent. Is this accurate?
Tusk - Oh, yes. It is very violent. The matches themselves are violent, the spectators are violent... In fact, Pppleion is usually in a state of war due to wool-ball.
Victor - Interesting... Tell me about your district.
Tusk - Ah, yes! District eleven... It's located on a desert plane. Our sheep have evolved the unique property of reflective wool which keeps them cool while the sun is shining and warms them when the cool breezes blow. It's no wonder why our wool is prized above all others in the Sky District.
Susan the Perpetual Intern - Victor, we're being flooded with calls from Pppleion, I'm getting scared. They're saying they're warming up their jump-ships to -
Victor - Susan, dear, it's pronounced P-p-leon. The third 'P' is silent. Besides, like I told you earlier, this is not a call-in segment.
Susan the Perpetual Intern - But sir -
Tusk - And since we have the fastest shearers, the quickest and strongest pushers, and the finest wool, it's no wonder that district eleven is the best
wool-ball district in all of Pppleion.
(Loud angry pounding on door)
Victor - Uhhhhh, let's go to a quick commercial break. Susan!
(Sound of splintering wood and screams cut off abruptly by generic jingle music)
Singers - If your ship won't fly, don't sit and sigh! Call 881-3833-49-777777-X12-4B-9Q-11-MR-49 today!
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Victor - ...and they were so fast! It was incredible. I'm lucky to be alive, really, it was -
Susan the Perpetual Intern - You're on the air Victor.
Victor - Ah, so I am. Welcome back, listeners. I regret to inform you that our Weekly Spotlight segment will be cut short this week, as our guest was just forcibly rolled inside a ball of wool by several members of Pppleion's district five wool-ball team. Such teamwork... I, for one, can't wait to watch this Sunday's wool-ball match. This concludes today's segment of Today's Look at Today. This is Victor L. Wave, signing off! Would you like to make salutations, Susan? Susan...? Ah, it appears that Susan is updating her resume again. Ha! Bless her. Stay tuned for an inspiring documentary on the All Percussion Trillion Piece Band of Overkillion, on the upcoming segment 'Space Jazz with Space Chaz'. Thanks again for tuning in. Good-bye!
(Brief Musical Outro)
The Snake in the Grass
Black turned to grey as a man blearily opened his eyes. It was extremely difficult for him to focus on anything, but it appeared that he was in a jail cell. He had no memory of how he had come to be there. His head throbbed as though it had been split in two. He raised a shaking hand to touch it but paused when he saw how shockingly pale his skin was. He touched the top of