Renegade T.M.

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Renegade T.M. Page 12

by Langley, Bernard


  “So what now?” asked Crinkle sounding more than a little bored.

  “Now we…”

  Suddenly the window they were staring at shattered into a thousand pieces, and though they could not be sure, both Slip and Pete swore they could hear laughter coming from what was now just a hole in the wall.

  “Now we get closer,” said Slip, “come on, follow me.”

  25.

  “Er yeah, I’ll take a plasma manhattan, swirled not stirred, thanks,” said Slip.

  “Of course sir,” said the waiter.

  “With one of those twirly straws and tiny umbrellas too.”

  “Right away sir, and for the lady?”

  “The same,” said Slip, before Crinkle had a chance to answer.

  “Of course,” said the waiter and left to get their drinks.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous!” he said, visibly shaking.

  “Uh huh,” replied Crinkle, deeply unimpressed.

  “I mean, what if I win? What if I win?!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Crinkle obviously nonplussed.

  “You’re not really taking this seriously are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you don’t care if I win or lose, do you?”

  “Nope.”

  “So basically, you couldn’t give a figlet?”

  “Your drinks sir,” interrupted the waiter, placing two smoking drinks down on their table, tiny umbrellas sticking out of them and all.

  Slip passed him a fabulous emerald and motioned him away.

  “That’s correct,” resumed Crinkle.

  “But Crinks, this is my dream! Can’t you see that?! This is my life’s goal!”

  “Sure Slip, but… “

  “Hang on a ping Crinks, it’s about to start,” he butt in.

  Ladies, gentlemen and species of extraordinary gender, I would like to welcome you all to the Universe Awards. It is my great delight tonight to see so many special guests in the audience, please give a big hand to King Mook there in the second row! Of course he needs no introduction, let’s hear it for God up in the balcony, hi there God! I must however draw special attention to, I really can’t believe that he’s actually here, oh my, is it, no it can’t be, but yes it is, it’s SLIP MCGROOVY!!!

  “Crinks, did you hear that?! They mentioned me!”

  “Yeah, t’rific,” yawned Crinkle.

  “Thank you fans, thank you,” he bestowed thanks on the guests about him.

  That’s right folks, tonight we sort the wheat from the chaff, the good from the ugly, the red dwarf form the dwarf! Right here, right now, in this very room, we have assembled the greatest ever beings from across the ages. The greatest minds, warriors, lovers, poets, inventors, musicians, thinkers, tyrants, persuaders, procrastinators, revolutionaries, dreamers, literally the very mount of all that is paramount is here, and shortly I will announce the number one!

  “Did you hear that Crinks?! The number one!”

  “Whatever.”

  So without further ado, here are the nominations. The first nominee is Eric Fankst from the Joonta system. Eric was born in time sector non-yellow on the moon of Poosht, to his seven parents Mr’s & Mrs’ Fanskt. From an early age he showed some promise in zero grav tetherball, but still more promise in being exactly the right time at the right place. At the age of fifteen, Eric happened to accidentally step on a butterfly who was rushing home in order to surprise his wife for her birthday. Though this incident in itself seemed quite trivial at the time, causality scholars of the future, later discovered that this incident, as a first cause, actually ended the Endless War of All Time, a war that had been raging since the birth of the first stars and had resulted in the death of countless species across numerous galaxies. Of course, Eric had been quite oblivious to this fact, and further oblivious to the fact that the wife of the dead butterfly soon remarried, had three baby butterflies and lived much happily ever after. These sorts of events regularly featured in Eric’s life and culminated on an unremarkable day later in Eric’s retirement years. Eric was a keen gardener and had always dreamed of having a patio in his garden. Now retired, he found that he could finally realize his dream, and spent some really rather lovely summer months laying down his dream patio. Relaxing with a drink on his patio one summer evening, Eric could have never known that though his patio really was very nice, in the act of laying it, he had quite unknowingly inverted reality. Before the patio had been built, the universe had been an evil place, where death and horror were the norm. His patio set up the exact conditions necessary to reverse the quantum bent of universe, and changed this principle from evil to good. Changing the very nature of reality went unnoticed at the time because all life was locked into the quantum bubble, though causality scholars are now certain that Eric Fankst is single-handedly responsible for turning an evil universe into a really rather lovely one. Ladies, gentlemen and those inbetweenies, I give you Eric Fankst.

  Applause echoed around the hall.

  “Wowza, that Eric, quite a guy!” exclaimed Slip.

  “Again, whatever,” said Crinkle, the very essence of nonchalance.

  And now your second nomination for the greatest ever ever-great is Borz Wibbleflurst, step forward Borz. Now though I’m certain that Borz really needs no introduction, let me run you through some of his best bits. At the tender age of ten galactic beeps, Borz transcended physicality and became pure thought, in this incarnation his first act was to return to the birth of the universe and aid God with his design of the curly bits on the Stretcham Ring galaxy; he also added the finishing touches to the law of gravity when walking under an apple tree one day, an apple was repelled by his head. Later on in life, Borz successfully swam the Omega Nebula, invented the inventors, a self replicating machine species who are quite masterful at tiling, and has had sixty-five number one hits and eighteen multi-plutonium albums! Ladies, gentlemen and species who look both ways before crossing, I give you, the indisputable Borz!

  Screaming erupted around the hall, and some people started to chant Borz’ name.

  “Seriously Crinks! If he ever became corporal again, even I’d think twice!”

  “Slip, isn’t this all a bit, you know, STUPID?!”

  And now your third and final nomination is…

  “Stupid?! How dare you! And what pray tell oh Crinkly is stupid about it?”

  is…

  “How about the fact that none of this is real and we’re both dead!” Crinkle dropped the bomb suddenly.

  Is… Slip McGroovy!!!

  “That’s me!” he said aghast, “that’s me!”

  That’s right ladies and gentlemen and those who play from any tee, Slip McGroovy is your third nomination! Who I’m I kidding, forget those other two losers, he’s won! Slip McGroovy is the best ever person in the universe ever! For just being here! I mean WOW! Look at him! Just look at him! Seriously folks! Look!

  The crowd then went nuts, some were screaming Slip’s name and removing their clothes, others just bayed at the ceiling quite unable to cope with Slip’s magnificence. Some drooled and gawped, yet others instantly dropped dead in homage to him. A child approached Slip asking for his autograph, so he reactively shoved the tiny umbrella from his drink into the child’s lapel. Later that umbrella would become a famed relic and people would travel millions of light—years to see it and be near it.

  “Did you hear me Slip?! None of this is real!” shouted Crinkle struggling to make herself heard over the commotion.

  By now Slip had been carried to the stage and the audience were all bowing down before him and chanting his name. The compeer pushed a button and the ceilings above started to part. Now the night sky was exposed, all that could be viewed was a galaxy sized representation of Slip’s winking face, made entirely of stars. The stars had been trawled together over the last few thousand circuits using wormhole hoovers, and now stood as everlasting testimony to the greatness of Slip McGroovy. He stared up at his galaxy wide face, and a single tear
dropped neatly from his own.

  “You’ve gotta be kidding!” she said, though no one was listening.

  “Hupa Hool? Hupa Hell more like!” and that said, Crinkle left the building.

  26.

  “And that’s the last time I saw Crinks, she just turned tail and left!” finished Slip.

  “Oh okay,” replied Fendel pausing for thought, “and you were awarded the greatest ever person in the universe of all time period award, right?”

  “Yeah!” he agreed emphatically.

  “And none of that, or indeed this, is real?”

  “Erm, yeah. “

  “And we’re all dead Slip, that’s right isn’t it?”

  “Your point Fends?”

  Pete took the moment to interject, “you’re an idiot!”

  “I’m sorry?” said Slip abashed.

  “He’s spot on, you’re an idiot.” repeated Fendel.

  “Oh I get it,” said Slip narrowing his eyes, “you’re jealous!”

  “Jealous of what exactly Slip?” asked Fendel, taking in his surroundings as he spoke.

  “Well me of course! You just can’t stand the fact that I’m the most amazing, amazing person ever! Well fellows, I guess it’s just something you’re both going to have to learn to live with.”

  “Or,” began Fendel, who pausing for effect, then kicked Slip quite skilfully in the knee.

  “Ow!” he whimpered, “what was that for?!”

  “For being an idiot!”

  “Look this is getting us nowhere,” put in Pete, “how on Earth do we get off this rock?”

  “How on what?!” asked Slip bemused.

  “On Earth.”

  “Never heard of it!”

  “Nevertheless, the questions remains, how do we get outta here?”

  “Pete’s right, this is not the time to be arguing semantics. Slip, you’ve been here the longest, how do we get back?” asked Fendel.

  “Get back? What like? Back to reality?”

  “Yes if you like.”

  “We don’t.”

  “Oh come on Slip, what would Crinks do if she was here?”

  “She’d probably just leave again,” he answered in a small voice, sounding a little hurt.

  “No she wouldn’t, she’s always got a plan. Come on Slip, stop being so defeatist.”

  “Well I know what I’d do!” he declared, sounding cheerier.

  “What?” asked Pete and Fendel in unison “Ask Crinks of course.”

  “Well that’s decided then,” said Fendel, “we find Crinkle.”

  “But she could be anywhere.”

  “Maybe,” replied Fendel cryptically, “or maybe, she’s just over that hill.”

  27.

  Dink made his way downstairs to have his morning meal pill with Petunia. She was there waiting for him, arms folded across her bosom, hair dishevelled like some wild animal, and grinning at him as he imagined a maniac might.

  “Morning Pet,” he began timidly.

  “I KNOW!” she shouted back, throwing his morning meal pill directly at his head.

  “Ow!” he yelped, as the pill hit him squarely in the forehead, before replying meekly “thank you.”

  “She’s got him whipped! “ said Crinkle with evident glee.

  Crinkle was sitting on Slip’s shoulders now, and they had made their way over to the window outside Dink’s building. Perched high up on a sort of fire escape balcony, they each eagerly peered through the kitchen window waiting for the next instalment to begin.

  “How’s your pill sweetheart?” asked Dink.

  “ARRGGHHHHHHHHHHH!” she bellowed from across the breakfast table, grabbing a nearby laser bread knife.

  “Oh is that for me?” he asked indicating his slice of toast.

  “YES!” she screamed, plunging the knife into his hand, “DIE! DIE! DIE!”

  Pete, Slip & Crinkle all looked on in horror as Petunia repeatedly stabbed the laser bread knife into Dink’s defenceless hand. Pete could do nothing to dispel the feeling of familiarity he was experiencing. It had been dawning on him for some time now, and he could no longer avoid the conclusion that Petunia was his ex, Sarah, and that he was Dink. This was uncanny he thought, she even looked like her, were it not for the multi-dimensional chin. He watched helplessly as Dink’s hand turned to pulp under the relentless onslaught of Petunia’s laser knife assault.

  “Darling, please stop that,” said Dink with quite unbelievable calm.

  “DIE! Die! Die,” finished Petunia before dropping the knife.

  “That’s the second hand you’ve destroyed this week, what’s got into you?”

  “I just really hate you Dink,” she answered deadpan, “anyway, I’ve gotta get ready,” and that said, she went back upstairs.

  Dink stared at the mutilated hand in front of him, then whistled for the hover phone. A telephone of sorts then flew out of nowhere and attached itself to his face.

  “Emergencies & Accidents please,” he said into the device.

  …Dialling…

  “Oh hello, it’s Dinkle Mormid, it’s about my hand.”

  “Yes, what seems to be the problem sir?” asked a voice from the phone.

  “Well, I need a new one.”

  “A new hand huh, well let me see. Says here, this will be your second hand this week.”

  “Yes that’s right, I lost the other one,” he lied.

  “Lost your hand huh, very well sir. And what prey tell happened to the one we issued you earlier this week?”

  “Er, I lost it.”

  “So you’re saying that you’ve in fact lost two hands this week?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “You really aught pay more attention to where you put them sir.”

  “Indeed,” he agreed, amputating what remained of his hand and then cauterising his wrist with the laser bread knife as he spoke, so that a smooth stump remained.

  “Well you’re in luck, we’ve just harvested a new hand crop this morning.”

  “That’s handy.”

  “Do you think that is funny sir?”

  “Er, no, sorry.”

  “We can fit you in at fifteen clicks to mean hour eleven, okay?”

  “Er, yes, thanks,” he replied glancing at fission watch.

  “See you then, good day.”

  “What was all that about?” asked Pete.

  “Must have ordered a new hand,” answered Slip nonchalantly.

  “A new hand! As in a hand, that’s new?!” said Pete bemused.

  “Yeah handy huh?!” put in Crinkle.

  “Think that’s funny?!” said Slip sternly.

  “No, sorry.”

  “Yeah that’s right,” continued Slip, “must have advanced cloning or gene regeneration techniques on this planet. Nothing to it really, simply a case of growing a new hand, and then attaching the new hand to where the old one was.”

  “Wow doc groovy, never knew you were medically trained!” said Crinkle sarcastically.

  “Actually I’m not Crinks, I just happen to know these things, like to keep myself at the cutting edge,” replied Slip, without an ounce of irony.

  “More like blunting edge,” she said under her breath.

  “So we follow him to hospital and confront him there?” asked Pete.

  “Yeah, sounds like a plan,” agreed Slip.

  “What if he decides we’re just a bunch of nutters?” asked Crinkle.

  “I think I can help there,” replied Pete, “come on , he’s leaving.”

  So Pete, Slip and Crinkle followed Dink as he left to get his new hand attached. Pete stared at Dink as he got into his transportable, and could not help but feel empathy with this soon to be evil galactic Emperor. The Renegade gang had hailed one of Spank’s public transportables and told the driver CPU to follow Dink, so as Slip and Crinkle bunked down to catch some sleep, Pete had a chance to think about what he was doing. He was convinced now that his plan to persuade Dinkle Mormid from his path to Co-leen leadership w
ould succeed, he felt a sort of kinship with the brow-beaten Dink and realized that if anyone would be able to get through to him, then it would be him. He could almost see how Dink’s life had taken shape, with Petunia attacking him at every opportunity. He imagined that Dink had some lousy, monotonous job, where people just ignored his potential everyday, and he almost forgave him for the evil that he had yet to unleash upon the universe. It was all so clear to him now, he would save Dinkle Mormid, save the universe from the Co-leen, and save planet Earth, it was all just a matter of time.

  28.

  Crinkle left Slip to collect his most really amazing chap in the universe ever award on his own, having decided that she was not going to pander to his egomania any longer. Outside she decided to put as much distance between herself and Slip as hupally possible, and set off confidently at a brisk pace. She decided that Hupa Hool was not where your wildest dreams came true after all, for she had been there for seemed like entire circuits, and all she felt was irritation.

 

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