by Douglas Cobb
"That'd be great!" Celeste said, and munched away on her crispy bacon, so yummy-smelling yet so far away! Please drop some, please drop some! I thought to myself. Celeste must have noticed me staring up at her and looking at her with my "Feed Me!" look, because she took pity on me and handed me half a slice of bacon under the table.
The parades were pretty awesome, as usual. I was amazed that seed, petals, flowers, and other plant parts could be transformed into such cool-looking floats. Of course, the Trojan Panda that I and Fuzzy Wally MacGee had made ranked right up there, too, but we didn't have the luxury of working with flowers--we just had to use whatever we had around us.
The rest of the day was spent not doing much of anything, just laying about and licking on Celeste's blanket. It had a certain flavor to it that somehow I found to be irresistible! It was almost as addictive to me as Nicole's Chocolate Chunky Chip Cookies. I thought of it as being calming and soothing, probably much like Sherlock Bones thought about his meerschaum pipe.
****
"So, how was your New Year's, Virg?" Horace asked, rolling on a coat of Robin Egg blue paint in Celeste's bedroom the following day.
"I keep on hearin' the dang ol' dang ol' ringin' of the bells, bells, bells," Virgil said. "Ohhh, my achin' head!"
"Guys, we've been doin' good so far; we're in the home stretch; let's get this room painted and collect our money and a sweet bonus!" Bryce said to his employees.
"Seen that dang ol' diddley-dang red-furred dog anymore, Bryce?" Virgil asked.
"Naw, he must have either been caught by the Animal Control van or maybe he left for parts unknown, but he's gone."
"Your daughter takin' it hard?" Horace asked.
"She was at first, but I told her I'm thinkin' about gettin' her a pet of her own." Bryce paused for a moment, concentrating on applying the blue paint.
"Got any ideas what kind? How about a dog?" Virgil said. "Kids love dang ol' dogs!"
"Yeah, but you know what? I was thinkin' of maybe gettin' her the kind of pet that would keep her company by talkin' to her, like maybe a Macaw," Bryce said.
It was all I could do to stop myself from running into the room and biting Mr. Gunderson on the leg. I am a pterodactyl of tremendous restraint, though, showing restraint being one of my numerous good qualities. I have stacks of restraining orders to prove that, but that's another story. If Mr. Gunderson went through with his idea, something told me that the New Year would be a very interesting one, indeed.
Even if he didn't, I had no doubt that it would be an interesting one. Bring it on, Frankie, I thought to myself; "Hit me with your best shot," as Pat Benatar would say. "Fire away!"
Chapter Fifteen
Grey Is the New Scarlet
"T here are more things under heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Fuzzy Wally MacGee," I said. "Did you know there are thousands of planets out there that might be capable of supporting life, just like here?"
"Just like here?" Fuzzy asked, cocking his head to the side and pondering for a moment the implications of my words.
"Well, maybe not just like here, but possibly similar, and possibly with strange life forms that are almost impossible for us to imagine."
"Imagine that," he said. "There may be another world or dimension somewhere with another Fuzzy Wally MacGee on it. But, maybe the other Fuzzy Wally MacGee is not a rhino, but something silly, like a goldfish.
"Oh, maybe it's the kind with googly eyes on the top of its head. It's a wonder to me how they see without colliding into the glassy curved walls of its aquatic home. Do you think goldfish dream, Lily, or get headaches from bumping their heads against walls a lot? I do that sometimes, when I'm not paying attention so much."
"How very philosophical of you, Fuzzy! I didn't think you had it in you!" I exclaimed.
"Had what in me? I hope you're not talking about more worms. I had the hardest time getting rid of them the last time I had them," Fuzzy replied.
"No, Fuzzy! I'm talking about the ability to wonder, to let your imagination soar and take your thoughts to entirely different worlds and places!"
"That sometimes happens when I stand up too quickly and my legs are still asleep, and I have to shake them, first one side and then the other, until they finally wake up like the rest of me! Also, it happened when I sat on the tranquilizer dart the other day--I started imagining all sorts of colorful things, until I suddenly forgot what happened next for several hours."
"Do you know, Fuzzy," I said, "that some people believe we've been visited before?"
"I've had visitors, Lily; there's nothing so strange about that. Sometimes one of my brothers or sisters comes over for the weekend, or you or Fonz or Lucy comes over--"
"No, Fuzzy--not by someone that you personally know, but by aliens. People used to think aliens had green skin, but now many people think they have grey skin, and so call them the 'Greys'."
"I thought you said they were colorful. I dunno; grey doesn't seem that colorful to me. And, Frankie and General Yao Xing and Omar Khalid Ali were aliens, and they weren't grey. They were more on the, I'd say, reddish side."
"Oh, Fuzzy, I don't mean aliens from other countries, but aliens from other planets!" I said.
"So these aliens look like you or me, but they're grey?" Fuzzy Wally MacGee asked.
"Now you're getting it!" I said. "But, they don't necessarily look like you or me--they could look like anyone, but are often described as having large triangular-shaped heads that are round at the top, with biggish dark black eyes, and only slits for their nostrils and mouth."
You're just messin' with me now," Fuzzy said. "Maybe you've hit your head on one too many walls, too!"
"Sometimes I wonder, Fuzzy Wally MacGee; sometimes I wonder!"
"I've got an aspirin around here somewhere if you'd like one, then," Fuzzy offered.
"I haven't hit my head, and I am not messing with you! I'm just telling you about aliens with grey-colored skin from some other planet that some people believe have been visiting the Earth!"
"Oh, tax or draft dodgers, eh? I can see that, even though I don't have cool 'biggish dark black eyes,' like your alien buddies," Fuzzy Wally MacGee said.
"I didn't say they were or weren't my 'buddies,' Fuzzy! I suppose if there are any, they could be either, or both--some could be enemies, and some could be our friends. But, as a rule of thumb, Fuzzy, if we run across any strangers, be they white, black, green, red, or grey, what are we supposed to be?"
"That's an easy one! I'm Fuzzy Wally MacGee, and you're Lily! What's a 'rule of thumb'?"
"The rule you should always follow in most cases! Aargh!" I said, exasperated at him.
"What do you mean, 'always' or 'most'?"
"Always, except in those cases where an exception probably should be made. And before you ask, just ask me, and I'll let you know when an exception possibly should be made, okay?" I lowered my voice so that only Fuzzy could hear me. "Fuzzy, don't laugh, but I think I may have seen a UFO last night, an Unidentified Flying Object, a flying saucer."
"Don't laugh? Ha, ha! Which one was it you saw of those three, or did you see all of them? You really ought to try to speak more clearly and say what you mean to say."
"They're all three the same thing, idiota!" I said, the last word slipping out too late for me to stop it. I hoped he wouldn't be too offended, but he was being a bit thick-headed.
"IDIOTA: Noun. Spanish for 'idiot.'" blurted from his language translator. Why did I ever give that to him for Christmas? Now it was turning against me.
"That's not a very nice thing to call me, Lily! I can't help it I haven't been educatamified like you! I suppose I shouldn't have let rugby take over as much of my time as I did, but I did it for the la-dies, yo!"
"I'm sure they were very, um, appreciative," I said. "But, unless I'm very much mistaken, Fuzzy, I think that Centralia might be becoming the newest Roswell, New Mexico or Clearwater, Florida, a hotbed of alien activity!--Oh, and by the way, the 'rule of thumb'
is that you should Always Be Vigilant, but you knew that, right?"
"Um, er, sure," he said. "But what do 'hotbeds,' 'Roswell,' and 'Clearwater,' have to do with 'Centralia,' Lily? Are you speaking in riddles on purpose?"
"Roswell is where newspapers originally claimed aliens crash-landed, though later on, reports from our government said it was just a 'weather balloon,' and not a spaceship that crashed. “Clearwater, Florida is a city where many people have reported seeing spaceships in the skies, and even have videotaped many of their sightings as evidence. And if you call a city a 'hotbed' of activity, that just means that lots of things are going on there that seem mysterious. What I'm really trying to tell you, Fuzzy W.M., is that for some reason, spaceships are flocking to Centralia like sparrows to Capistrano!"
"Ah, I see...." said Fuzzy Wally MacGee.
"You do?" I asked.
"Uh, no. Aren't sparrows wee tiny birds with no little grey men inside of them, and isn't Capistrano in California, and not Arkansas? Also, I've seen sparrows, crows, red-wing blackbirds, bluebirds, cardinals, mallard ducks, geese, and chickens (most recently) flock, to name a few; but, I've never seen spaceships flock."
It's just a figure of speech, Fuzzman! Of course spaceships don't really 'flock.' I only said that to compare them to sparrows, in that they are quite a few flying about these days," I said.
I noticed Fuzzy looking up at the sky, vaguely puzzled. "Where?" he asked.
"Currently, we seem to be going through a slight dry spell of spaceship activity, a drought, but trust me, they have been seen, and by many respected people."
"Name one," Fuzzy said.
"Well, there's--me--and many others, too numerous to mention; it would take way too long. Anyway, the point is, we need to let Prince Alphonse Saed and Lucy Marmoset Higgins know about the aliens. It's better to be safe than--than--"
"Out at second base?"
"No, than sorry."
"If I was safe on second base, I know I wouldn't be sorry about it at all--I'd be glad!"
As Fuzzy Wally MacGee and I were talking to each other, Lucy Marmoset Higgins approached us. At least, it was someone who looked liked Lucy, but not quite--not quite, in that she was, well, grey.
"I AM LUCY MARMOSET HI-HI-HICCOUGH-I MEAN HIGGINS!" the not-so-much Lucy Marmoset Higgins said, speaking in a squeaky loud monotone.
"Hmm...." I said after a moment. "Are you feeling okay, Lucy?" I asked.
"YES. WHY WOULDN'T I FEEL FINE, LILY?" the oh so obviously B-Lucy (or greyish Blue C) asked. If it worked in Fringe with the alt-universe Olivia becoming known as B-Olivia or Bolivia, I figured hey, it's good enough for me.
"You're looking a little bit less orange than usual," I answered.
"Perhaps she's had an accident skiing," Fuzzy Wally MacGee said.
"YES. I HAD AN ACCIDENT WHEN MY SPACESHIP--ER--WHEN I WAS SKI-ING AND ROLLED DOWN A STEEP MOUNTAIN. I AM JUST--DUSTY, THAT'S IT, DUSTY, YEAH, THAT'S THE TICKET, DUSTY," Blue C said.
"See, Lily, I was right, she just had an accident skiing down a steep mountain, and got a little bit dusty, that's all," Fuzzy said. "You are so suspicious sometimes."
"I am? I've never noticed that in myself before, Fuzzy," I said. "Perhaps a trifle careful, but--
"YES. YOU REALLY SHOULD BE CAREFUL, LILY." B-Lucy said ominously. "YOU CAN NEVER BE TOO SURE WHEN AN ACCIDENT MIGHT HAPPEN, LIKE WHAT HAPPENED TO LU--COUGH, COUGH. I HAD A FROG IN MY THROAT.--TO ME."
"See, Lily," Fuzzy Wally MacGee said. "She has a frog in her throat. It's no wonder she's feeling not herself when she has both rolled down a hill and swallowed a frog. That's funny, though; I thought you just liked to eat bananas, Lucy."
"YES. BANANAS. I MEANT TO SAY I HAD A BANANA IN MY THROAT. SILLY ME. HA, HA, HA! CAN YOU TAKE ME TO YOUR MILITARY FACILITIES NOW THAT I HAVE ESTABLISHED A RAPPORT WITH YOU?" Blue C suggested, with a nudge and a wink. She grimaced; the gesture seemed painful to her, as if she was using muscles she wouldn't normally have used.
"That was a jolly joke Lucy made, wasn't it, Lily?" Fuzzy asked. "She must be feeling better, already!"
"Still as grey as ever, though," I replied, "and look, over there--here comes our good friend, Alphonse. I wonder if he was involved in the same accident, and rolled down the same hill? He also appears to be deficient in the area of coloration, other than grey."
"But that would be silly, Lily!" Fuzzy Wally MacGee said. "What would the odds be of two of our friends having a skiing accident on the same hill? Granted, I suppose it wouldn't be entirely impossible, but it would be highly unlikely. They must have had separate skiing accidents on two different steep mountains--that would explain it!"
"I believe, Fuzzy, that this would be as good of a time as any to be leaving! Pardon us, Blue C and Prince B-Alphonse Saed; we really must be flying!" I said, and then manifested my true form, and told Fuzzy to get on my back. We took off and got away from the two aliens who had taken over our friends' appearances in the blink of an eye.
"That was rather rude, Lily!" Fuzzy Wally MacGee said as we flew. "What will Lucy and Fonzie think about us for rushing off like that?"
"My poor deluded Fuzzy, those two beings were not Lucy and Fonzie!"
"They weren't? Then what were they?"
"Aliens, Fuzzy, aliens!" I answered him, the wind making our conversation a challenge. "Dust didn't make them grey; they are grey-colored aliens who did something to the real Lucy and Alphonse and then took over their shapes to try to trick us, do the same things to us, and try to pass themselves off as us to do who knows what! Didn't you think that 'Lucy's' request that we take her to our 'military facilities' was a tad unlike something the real Lucy would say?"
"I thought that was only because she was feeling a bit under the weather from her accident, and was just trying to make a joke about it," Fuzzy said. "Are you positive, then that they were grey aliens?"
"Do you want to go back and ask them?"
"Well, no, not really."
"Then," I said, "let us continue, and when we land, come up with a plan to rescue our friends and stop the greys from taking over the entire population of Centralia and invading the world!"
I had to keep the only other member of PAWS, Fuzzy Wally MacGee, with me at all times now. I didn't want him to also be kidnaped and his shape and identity stolen by the Greys. But, I also had to get back to my house, and protect Celeste, Quentin, and Clare (and Dexter and Nicole) from the Greys' scheme, so we headed there. I could not have their lives on my conscience. The problem was, I couldn't be in two places at the same time--or, could I?
I couldn't, not, at least, unless I had more time to perfect the cloning machine I'd been working on for a year or so. So, the only other solution I could come up with at such a short notice involved fooling the Greys into thinking that Celeste and her parents and Dexter and Nicole had already been taken over by other Greys. I would have to rely on using some of Clare's experimental Karma Chameleon Total Body Tattoo Formula Number 51, named after Area 51, where the government had advanced aircraft and (possibly) captured alien UFOs. It was supposed to last for an entire day, and be good for purposes like Halloween parties, and any occasion when you just wanted to, according to the planned slogans, "Blend In With the Concrete Jungle Out There," or "Be One of Us, and Bring Out Your Inner Alien."
Also, I would have to use an animatronic wasp I had been "helping" Triple Q develop for the next April Fool's Day. It would be marketed as The Stinger, with the advertising slogan: "Tired of Getting Stung By Practical Jokers? Sting Back!" It came with it's own remote control toggle switch, but it had a limited range it could be operated best within. So, I had to rely on Celeste's skills at video games and my ability to alter her XBox 360 quickly enough that it could be used to fly The Stinger. What could be easier?
I snuck Fuzzy Wally MacGee in through the "doggy" door, and carefully peered around corners, making sure the coast was clear. We made it to Celeste's bedroom without incident, and she was sitting at her desk doing homework.
 
; "Psst! Psst!" I said, to get her attention. She turned around, and was surprised to see me with Fuzzy Wally MacGee there by my side.
"You won't believe this, Celeste, but--" I began.
"Oh, Lily! Hi, Fuzzy!" Celeste whispered. "Mom and Dad won't want to see another dog in the house, Lily--we have to get rid of Fuzzy!--No offense, Fuzzy!" she added. "And, I can't count how many times you've started a sentence with 'You won't believe this, Celeste,' but it's been a lot! And still you think that you can come up with something I won't believe--unbelievable!"
I told her everything that had been going on. I filled her in about the Greys' invasion of Centralia. I told her about how they had either kidnaped Lucy and Alphonse or just (just?) taken over their bodies and changed their skin color to grey. I mentioned that no one in the city was safe, and that I had to have Fuzzy Wally MacGee with me to prevent him from also being taken over by the aliens. I told her why we'd returned to the house, so that we could enlist her aid.
"I don't believe this," she said.
"I told you she'd say that, Lily," Fuzzy Wally MacGee said to me.
"What-ever," I said irritably. "It's really happening, though! Turn on your T.V., or just look out the front window, and you'll see for yourself!"
Celeste did as I asked her to, and turned on her T.V. to the local news. Scattered about in the background of street scenes were people with grey-colored skin. "No, this can't be happening!" Celeste said. "Aliens aren't real!"
"Tell that to the aliens!" I said.
She then went to peer through the livingroom curtains at the front of the house. I could hear her gasp even from her bedroom. It wasn't long before she came back to us, her face pale. "Okay, what do I have to do again?" she said. I told her, and we got together everything we needed and I started working on the XBox 360, and getting the controller to operate the tiny mechanical wasp.
It didn't take as long as I thought it would. I was finished in about an hour. Celeste practiced flying the wasp through the house, able to see where she flew it by looking at the television screen. "I think I'm getting the hang of it!" she said.