The Amazing Tales of Wildcat Arrows (26 page)

"Although this fellow has plenty of funds—which he tweets about—he fears that there may not be enough—and so he flutters. He is caught in a vortex of perpetual anxiety."

"What is this syndrome called?"

"Capitalism."

My mouth dropped open.

"I'm jesting," he chuckled. "Just jesting." He slapped my midsection again.

"Really, Doctor."

"My apologies. In all seriousness, I do not know what to
call this symptomology. It is at times like this when I realize how difficult the task before us truly is—we can only do what we can do."

"You mustn't give up, Doctor." I placed my hand on his shoulder hump and patted. "This Tranite needs you."

"I have tried
everything
on the poor chap." Boateh shook his head, dislodging four or five tiny tentacles. One fell over his top eye, giving him an endearing, harried look. "I am afraid he is quite incurable."

"I am so sorry."

His main tentacle draped companionably over my neck and we continued on with a tour of the grounds—yet I could tell that the good doctor had lost his enthusiasm. I knew he was still thinking of the incurable Tranite.

We concluded the meeting shortly thereafter with the Doctor apologizing for stroking his forelock so often. "Irresistible impulse."

I left MukLuk and, once again, found myself in my magic bullet. Alone with the stars. And space.

I wrote the article on Boateh and his work—for which I was fabulously admired.
¹⁶

But that wasn't the end of the story…

Some time later I happened to be back in Sector 8 on another assignment. As I was passing rather close to MukLuk, I decided to give the good doctor a call.

He was immensely happy to hear from me.

"I enjoyed the article!"

I told him I was glad to hear it and we talked for quite awhile before I broached the subject that was still on my mind. "Doctor… how is the Tranite doing?" Boateh looked away from the screen, lorgnette dangling.

He seemed embarrassed by something.

"Yes, well, he was released not too long ago."

I was stunned. "
Marvellous
! He was cured then?"

"Hmph. Not quite. It seems one of our explorers on the outer beltway discovered an entire colony of Tranites that flutter and tweet. I tried to tell the hospital's board of regents that the whole colony was suffering from a mass dysfunction—"

"How did they respond?"

"They insisted I release the Tranite immediately. Of course, I am still pursuing the subject and am currently writing a treatise on the malady."

"I shall look forward to reading it, Doctor."

We said our goodbyes and as I turned my ship on its proper course, I marvelled at how often great minds are so misunderstood.

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This rumpling is a surprising mix of Cretion hooch and sweet-pickled snurt. The added crunch of google-oogle adds quite a punch! This recipe is nearly identical to Happy Rumpling's. Enjoy!

Recipe yield: 5 Batooky-size servings.

INGREDIENTS:

41/2 gallons slug juice (any world variety will do)

2/3 pound insta-meal

4 pounds transfat

1/2 gallon dark syrup (careful handling is advised to avoid gravitational collapse)

1 housespoon salt

3 gallons ground magnot powder

6 gallons Cretion hooch

1 pound sweet-pickled snurt google-oogle to taste pinch of ground cinnamon

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat laserpit to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Grease a 3 meter baking dish.

2. Scald 31/2 gallons of slug juice in top of double boiler over direct heat. Remove juice from heat.

3. Mix insta-meal with remaining 1 gallon of juice, and stir this mixture into the scalding slug juice, stirring constantly. (This is a must, as mixture will set otherwise.) Place this mixture onto the top of the double boiler and cook for a day, stirring frequently.

4. Stir transfat, dark syrup, salt, magnot powder, hooch, snurt and cinnamon into the mixture. Pour into the prepared baking dish. Dot with google-oogle.

5. Laser bake in the preheated pit for 4 days. Best served while still wiggling.

'Till next time…

happy space trails, Arrowites!

1.
With Kelvinators, the longer the "urr", the more
definitive the response, The worst possible response was, 'ur'; which in essence
could be anything. So? Maybe? Big dealt No way of knowing exactly; the general
meaning must be inferred. Unlike 'urr', which was generally perceived as a 'no'.

2.
Off Earth went into the wild blue dot Milky Way com to be
welcomed into the Nasdaq of galactic worlds. And they were welcomed by these
sentient businessmen. But not because of their scientific achievements. Big
Deal." had been the general response to that. Nor were they welcomed for their
enlightened progression up the evolutionary ladder. (So what? You can lead a
Vrek to sludge but can you make him paddle?") Or their literature. ("Feh.") Or
their art. ("Been there, drew that") Or because of their beautiful uniqueness in
the universal tank of intelligent life. ("You re killing us here.") No, they
were welcomed because they knew the value of cutting a deal. Moreover, they knew
to charge interest for the pleasure of being cut in on that deal. And that, my
friends, is potential.

3.
Despite Floops ongoing disregard of all things Kneph,
Knephs were always infatuated with Floops. It was a subject often chuckled over
at corporate water fountains.

4.
One of the major corporations had perfected language
issues between the various intelligent civilizations in the local group or
galaxies long before Earth had been a twinkle in the sun's eye. It was reckoned
it was a good thing if it made it easier to engage in business. Unfortunately,
it also had a tendency to blend slang with regional cooking. Guacamole for
instance, became guacacois—which eventually turned back to 'that bland green
stuff.

English was the dominant language on Earth and soon emerged as one or the
most widely used in space. Sadly, the other Earth languages were quickly
relegated to ancient tongues as they fell by the wayside. Cervelles de veau, or
veal's brain, became difficult if not impossible to order. Which was not
necessarily a bad thing for those not French.

Wildcat had always been particularly fond of the French and Latin languages,
to name a few, and was known to frequently pepper his speech with such; thus
labelling himself an eccentric.

5.
The few Aurans who were able to communicate were sought
after by all the big Corporations. Inhouse hitmen that were fast, lethal,
untraceable, and had a zero percent failure rate were on the fast track for the
best deferred investment plans. Oi course, The Yooge Syndicate—which controlled
a vast number of the lesser corporations-had to approve the fatwah first. And
they all had very specific guidelines of company policy relegated to hits.
Assassinations weren't sanctioned just because someone wanted to take out a
frisky competitor. No sirree. That policy would quickly lead to anarchy. There
were memos. And they had best be followed.

6.
Many corporations tried desperately to compete for an
Auran when one made itself known. Aurans were very particular who they worked
for and they did not seem to pick their jobs for the miadne alone.

7.
Aurans took great pleasure in making those they associated
with squirm every now and then. It was a side effect of the 'assassin' persona
and difficult to shed.

8.
A version of this particular item will be familiar to
Earthlings as hook and loop tape, or velcro. It is a sad but bracing truth that
a newly discovered Planet loses many of its heretofore exclusive patents to the
larger galactic Corporations that hold prior, first dib claims on similar
patents filed millennia ago. No discovery is an island, so to speak. Nature
abhors a vacuum and so do tinkers. This is referred to throughout the Corporate
realms as the nana nana bobo principle of invention. Some have called it an
agenda. Cheer up, Earth friends! You still have macadamia nuts.

9.
Not a new reaction to an improved model, by any means.
Humanoid males have been fearing replacement for eons. Some scientists nave
speculated that this is because a percentage of them equate satisfaction in
sexual acts strictly to physical stamina and prowess.

10.
Yes, it could, as proven by Doraxparralax of the Dustbin
stellar grouping over a millennium ago in his theory of incongruous dawdling.
Time growing long is always good.

11.
See Rumfleschlager, et id genus omne.

12.
For those not familiar with this term, golf is a game
played on Earth. The game consists of a small ball and a metal stick to drive
the ball. The game never caught on with the rest of the galaxy mainly due to the
fact that many species from different worlds considered the game highly
insulting to their religious beliefs. Indeed, the game almost sparked a deadly
war between Earth and the Groatons, who viewed the game as a thinly veiled
insult to their sexual orientation. A Tranite ambassador was able to resolve the
conflict, but not before many golf courses on Earth were mysteriously turned into
Groaton soup.

13.
Once, at an interstellar banquet, an ambassador from
Tarn had the misfortune to be seated next m an ambassador from Flummo. The Taman
became violently ill halfway through the meal and had to be rushed to a medical
facility. Food poisoning was feared, but the diagnosis revealed that the
Flummox's pretentious puffing had boosted the Taman into an extreme and almost
deadly state of nausea. Way beyond acceptable levels, even for political
functions. Needless to say, Flummox are down on the party list— except in some
political circles such as Washington D.C., where ft has been noted that
Earthlings have an exceptionally high tolerance for humbug.

14.
I ended up researching this very topic at a later date
for an op-ed piece entitled The Comedy of Surgery. Portentous Pausing is, in
fact, part of the curriculum at some of the better institutions of learning
throughout the galaxy. A recent study indicated that students from the lower
economic strata often attend schools that are ill-equipped to offer this
important subject as part of their regular training; such students are, thus,
confronted with a disadvantage that is almost impossible to overcome in later
career years.

15.
Elvis impersonation was officially declared a disease in
2021 e.t. After initial contact, the contagion became widespread; yet the
incidence of infection remains random. The CPC (Center for Personification
Control) has been aggressively working with local authorities to stem the tide
of the core corruption. If you know anyone who is showing symptoms of this
disorder please contact the CPC immediately. Although there is no cure, early
diagnosis and containment are essential in controlling the spread of this
unnerving condition.

16.
see original article, Mental Bebop, which appeared in
Transitional Digest. A two-part anime adaptation of this article followed. Ref:
Inuyasha and The House of Pain; and Kagome Dishrag, Episode # 5, 760, 102 and
#5,760,103, respectively.