Renegade T.M. (22 page)

Crinkle followed Ben in his massive robot suit into the nondescript, security conscious hut. Checking in her pocket that it still contained the Fendel creature, she was convinced she would have the Shears of Salamaloo shortly in her possession, he was just an old man after all, the Fendel creature was right, what was the worst that could happen?

“
Dinkle Mormid
?”
a
sked the medi-computer.

“
Er
yes, hello
,”
he answered.

“
New hand insertion due to habitual misplacing
?”

“
Er
yes, I keep losing them
.”

“
Hand now ready for implant, please insert
stump into grafting-tube four.”

“
Okay
,”
he agreed, moving his handless arm toward the tube.

“W
arning, make sure area is clean before proceeding, only insert graft area into tube
.”

“
Oh right
,”
he said rolling up his sleeve and removing his fission watch
,
“
that could have been dangerous
.”

“
Come on, this is our chance
,”
said Pete excitedly
,
“
follow me peeps, it’s time to fix the future
!”

Pete, Slip and Crinkle then all piled into the implantation room, and confront
ed the one-day Co-leen Commander in Chief
.

“
Hey buddy
!”
Pete greeted Dink
, holding out his hand to shake.

“
You can’t be in here
!”
replied a startled Dinkle Mormid
,
“
this is a very delicate operation
!”

“
Delicate, smellycat
,”
put in Slip
,
“
man, I’ve seen this done thousands of times, it’s as easy as tying your shoelaces
!”

“
Your shoes are Velcro Slip
,”
Crinkle pointed out.

“
Life style choice Crinks, life style choice
,”
he replied
, reaching down to reattach one of the straps that had become loose.

“
Who are you people, what do you want?
!”
d
emanded Dink
, who had already committed himself to the grafting tube, and was not going to be going anyway soon.

“
Allow me to introduce ourselves
,”
began Pete, with what he imagined to be a statesmanlike manner
,
“
my name is Pete, the big beardy one
is called Slip, and the shor…” h
e checked himself in the nick of time, before continuing
,
“
and surely, you already know Crinkle, well anyway, that’s her there
.”

“
What do you want?
!”
Dink
replied, a little panicked now
,
“
should you really be here, are you doctors
?”

“
I am a doctor of life
,”
said Slip
,
“
I never found it necessary to actually learn medicine, just picked it up along the way, you know, while I’ve been living
.”

Dink
started looking for the help button.

“
Now what have we here
,”
continued Slip, grabbing Dink
’s chart.

“
Leave that alone, you shouldn’t even be here
!”
shouted
Dink
, growing ever more alarmed.

He had found the button that called for help, but then discovered to his dismay, that it was located on the underside of grafting
tube four
, one that would be easy
to push
,
were he not currently sec
ured arm-deep in grafting tube four
.

“
Well, well, well, this is all very interesting
,”
commented Slip, re
viewing the chart as he spoke, “
it says here that you’re in need of
a new nose, it says that it’s your second nose transplant this
week
.
”

“
Hand! It’s a new hand you idiot! What do you think this is here?
!”
said Dink
pointing to his nose with his free hand.

“
It’s your hand of course, and the pointy bit is your finger
,”
replied Slip without a trace of irony
,
“
now, t
e
r
r
ible business this, not having a nose. Perhaps, I can recalibrate the grafting machine here to work a little quicker
,”
offered Slip, pulling out a hammer.

“
I think you should leave that alone
,”
put in
Crinkle.

“
Yeah
, just leave it Slip
,”
agreed Pete, realizing the situation was going far from to plan.

“
Please don’t hurt me
!
”
wailed Dink
, who had started to cry.

“
We’re not going to hurt you, we’re going to help you
,
”
declared
Pe
te, sounding less than convincing, “
Slip, show him your rod
!”

Now, what happened next is very difficult to report, so instead I ask you to imagine a really awful situation and then multiply it by a ridiculously large number. What resulted were screams, tears, pain, horror, essentially an experience that no number of showers would ever wash away.

“
Not that
,”
whimpered Pete
,
“
your
fishing
rod
!
”

“
Oh right
yeah
,”
said Slip, pulling out the makeshift fishing rod they had cobbled together earlier.

“
What’s wrong with you people?
!”
asked Dink
with
heartfelt earnest
,
“and
what by Borz is that?
!”

“
This
,”
began Pete
,
“
is your future! Nay, it’s the future of all us, everything single living sole
!”

“
Looks like a broom handle, with some electrical flex tied on the end
,”
replied Dink
deeply unimpressed.

“
Broom handle
!”
s
coffed Slip
,
“
electric flex! How are you meant to go fishing with that?
!”

“
Yes indeed
,”
put in Pete, desperately trying to maintain the paper-thin illusion of a fishing rod
,
“
I mean
,
could a broom handle with flex tied on, do this?
!”

That said, he
grabbed the rod from Slip, and then casting it back way over his shoulder
,
as he had seen people do on th
e Fishing channel, he then lung
ed forward with all his might, launching the flex through the open window of the transplantation room.

“
Wow!” expressed Dink
,
“
that was pretty cool
!”

“
I know
,”
Pete replied with a cowboy swa
gger, wishing he had a cigarette he could take a heroic puff on.

“
Now what
?”
a
sked Dink
, genuinely excited.

“
Now, we see what we’ve caught.”

That said, h
e started retrieving the flex and pulling it
back through the window. Dink
had big wide eyes, entirely engr
ossed in the matter of what he
was going to produce
from that window. S
lip looked on him with admiration, as a father might on a child who had
just stepped out of his shadow,
and though he could not be sure, it looked as if Crinkle was smiling at him, admiring his fishing prowess and perhaps imagining what magnificent children they would make together. With a final heave, the flex end finally appear
ed back in the room, and as he
beamed at them all with his newly found hero st
atus, all of sudden,
their faces drop
ped
.

“
What in the hool is that?
!”

Pete looked down at the end of the flex, and discovered to his profound dismay, that attached to the end of it was a mutilated kitten. The flex had obviously attracted the innocent little thing, who having pounced on it, then gorged its paws on the wire trai
ling from the end. The poor
creature had then become entangled round the thing, and quite noticeable were the bite marks in the chord
,
where the kitten had tried in vain to gnaw its way free. Pete the hero, had become Pete the evil kitten mutilator, and as he desperately tried to think of something positive to say, a tiny, pain-filled meow came out from its bedraggled body.

“
Oh my Borz! It’s still alive, you bastard
!”
s
aid Crinkle, with a look of pure hate.

“
Do something you idiot
!”
b
arked Dink
.

“
Yeah
come on man, you can’t leave it like that
,”
put in Slip for good measure.

“
What do you want me to do exactly, throw it back?
!”
h
e replied sarcastically.

“
You’re gonna have to finish it Pete
,”
said Slip seriously
,
“
here take this
,”
he finished handing him the medical chart he had been holding.

“
What do you want me to do with this
?”
“
Decapitate it
.”

H
e looked down at the helpless creature and realized Slip was right. He could not leave it like that,
so
he would chop the clipboard into the kitten’s neck, removing kitten head from kitten shoulders in one fell swoop.

“
Okay, nobody move
,”
he said very seriously
,
“
I’m gonna finish this
now
.”

He brought the clipboard to just above the desired entry point, and then composing himself for a moment, then suddenly brought it down quickly through the neck, severing the head neatly so that it rolled across the floor
and came to rest against Dink’s
foot.

“
Nice work champ
,”
stated Slip, quite matter-of-factly.

“
Please
,”
pleaded
Dink
, kicking the severed kitten head away
,
“
please, leave me alone
.”

“
Oh no you don’t
,”
said
Slip
,
“
we came here to make you fish, and make you fish is what we’re gonna do
!”

“
Perhaps we should cut him some slack
here
,”
suggested Crinkle
,
“
I mean we have just decapitated a kitten with a clipboard
.”

“
No way José avocado
,”
replied Slip
,
“
we came here to do a job, and I’m gonna see it through right to the very end, even if you pastry puffs don’t have the stomach for it. Here, give me that
,”
finished Slip, grabbing the fishing rod from Pete.