|The Morons Are Still Out There
Author: Treacle Parcheesi PM
Mortimer McMire has escaped the asylum! He sets out to steal something of great value to the peaceful and noble Fribbulans, and enslave them for eternity. In order for Billy to save them, he must learn the most important lesson of all.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor/Adventure - Chapters: 6 - Words: 7,805 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 11-22-11 - Published: 02-22-11 - id: 6766974
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Fribbulan Airspace, Saturn's 63rd moon
Agatha XX-039 pushed away the fuzzy dice hanging from the glass dome of her flame-painted spaceship and cranked up the stereo. The sound of eurodance filled the entire saucer, and as the craft went upwards and abandoning the atmosphere, she turned it down. No sound absorption in the universe, you know.
"Female Fribbulan no. 34598723," a male voice said sternly. "Turn the craft around. Do not attempt to leave the exosphere. You are under arrest."
"In a pig's eye I am!" she exclaimed end crushed the intercom with her bare little foot. She hated how the justice people could hijack these.
Agatha was in deep trouble, and she knew it. But she was absolutely not going back to juvie this time. She accelerated, and felt her polyester-clad rear end floating up from the zebra-patterned seat. "Computer, gravity on, gravity on!" She pushed all the reachable buttons frantically.
"You are now entering the asteroid belt," Computer said stoically. "Please put on your seat belt before I put it on for you."
Agatha's spacecraft was built to navigate unharmed through asteroid belts; after all, Fribbula I is surrounded by three rings. But it still got to her. The only ones who crossed the asteroid belt after the Tellusians discovered space exploration were teenage Fribbulans, who lasered forms on empty planet surfaces. One of them once drew what they thought aliens looked like on the surface of Mars.
Something caught her by the corner of her eye. It was an official space craft, belonging to Sleeves; Fribbulan senator.
"Holy shoot!" Agatha yelped. Her hands were sweaty on the steering wheel.
"I order you to turn. Turn now and maybe the mayor won't demand your head on a platter."
It had happened to two of her friends from juvie. She winced and instead turned up the music, setting course for the only planet in the universe she knew no Fribbulan would ever set their foot on to save their lives. All of a sudden, the alarm went off, and "MALFUNCTION" illuminated the dome in red neon.
"Danger," the computer said imperturbably. "Tellus are inhabited by meat-eating monsters."
"Shut up," Agatha said and stomped on the accelerator.
It was too late, however. Senator Sleeves made a sharp turn and intercepted her. She was trapped.
"Female," the senator's voice filled the cockpit. "You are under arrest. Follow me back to home, and you shall not be harmed."
Agatha bit down on her lip. "I'm not returning! I need to find help! You have to let me go!"
If she had been able to see Sleeves' face, she would have seen that his eyes were swimming. She sighed. "Please! I voted for you!"
A few silent seconds floated by. "All right, female. Detach the cockpit from the craft. I'll have to destroy it for the sake of the evidence."
As the glassy dome was swallowed by the Earth's gravitational pull, senator Sleeves waved goodbye. "Find help," were his final words.
Agatha steered the remainder of her craft toward a green-looking patch with a chain of mountains. The gravity on Earth was much more compact than on Fribbula I, as she soon found out. It destroyed the saucer's own system completely, and she floated up from her seat once again.
"You are now plummeting to your death. Nice knowing you," the computer said obnoxiously and Agatha sighed. At least she was going to lose her head while enjoying herself.
In the meantime, on Earth, a young boy was kicking his sneakers off and heading for the stairs.
Before he could sneak away from the dinner table that recently set, a woman in a yellow dress and apron that read: "Of course not, they're Republicans" turned the corner.
"You better wash your hands, Billy dear," she said, dangerously kind.
"Aw, mom!" Billy complained.
Billy's club house was the reason for 4 out of five family meetings. It consisted of wood from milk crates supplied legally. Something. The kids of the suburban Wisconsin neighborhood had a saying; "if the German Shepherds guarding the trash pile don't kill you, then what you steal is legally yours."
It looked small, but among a lot of things, the Vorticons had taught him how to build things in this fashion. Inside the club house there was room for a massive bookshelf, a work bench, a computer desk and of course, the Bean-with-Bacon Megarocket. It was named after the many soup cans it consisted of.
Billy Blaze was kind of a child prodigy. He had an IQ of 314, had saved the galaxy three times, and always thoroughly chewed his food.
This was the best part of the day. Now all he had to do was go back to work on his newest invention. It was a laser gun that instead of needing an antidote to cure incapacitated targets, just "killing" them for about ten minutes.
Someone knocked on the door. First seven, then five, and three, ending with nine.
"And the password?" Billy examined a tiny diode with a magnifying glass.
"A-F-L-K-I-S-A-D-B-A-G," someone said.
Billy had met Edie Mammon at a local science convention. He was displaying his theory on alcohol as fuel, and she was actually interested. Edie herself was also a child prodigy; she had finished her law degree, and was a high-prized attorney working in secret. She was exceptionally bright, but she never revealed how bright. As with Billy, she didn't do cooked vegetables, or going to bed early. It was good to have a friend after the fallout with Mortimer McMire. She had braces, and had only been without headgear for two months. She was freckly not only on her face, but her shoulders as well. She sported a tomboyish look; she wore red Mary Janes, and a green pilot jacket. She wore wide jeans, as she liked keeping different kinds of samples in her pockets.
"I've finally finished the new generation of ComputerWrists," she said. She held up her arm and presented a ComputerWrist that looked much like the old model, but red. The LCD screen displayed Billy's data.
Name: Blaze, Billy
Age: 8 Y 234 D 22 H
Height/weight: 49.2 in 49 lbs 6 oz
Favorite food: Meat lover's Pizza
Favorite movie: The Champ
"Whoa," Billy said in awe. "Can't let that little doozey get out."
Suddenly the Photachyon Transceiver in the corner sparked into life, and they both jumped.
"The escaped XX-039 is still at large. Fribbulan Search and Destroy out."
The kids were silent for a moment. Edie broke the silence eventually. "Fribbulan?"
Billy set course for the bookshelf, where he had an edition of Alien Encyclopedia he had swiped from the Shikadi, and turned the pages.
"Fribbula I," he said and sat down. "A minor planet located in the Cyanea Galaxy." He skimmed the page. "Fribbulans are the intelligent cousins of Bloogs. Females are roughly the size of a human 12-year-old and extremely clever. They can exhale poison gas at will. Males are up to seven feet tall and have hunchbacks capable of carrying over 400 pounds as well as sharp, poisonous teeth. The Fribbulan is solely carnivorous and," Billy's face turned to disgust, "Prefer their meals served alive and kicking."
"Eww," Edie interjected.
"Are we going out to find this Fribbulan?" Edie asked with a crooked, scared grin on her face.
"Who else?" Billy said and cocked the neural stunner.