Death From Above!
Page 11
“Did you end the war just so you could be Minister of War again?”
“No. Not just. But let’s not get lost searching for trees in a forest of ulterior motives. What’s important is, I ended the war, and there’s really no need for you to be Minister of War anymore, not when you have more important religious duties to attend to.”
“It doesn’t matter who ended the war,” Hattie, the Minister of Sewage, croaks from the shadowy corner. “What matters is who’s going to pay for the sewage improvements now?”
“Hey, silver lining, frog-man,” Trip says. “Without the refugees clogging up the pipes, is there really even a need for sewage improvements anymore?”
Hattie gets to his flippered feet, taking a second to steady himself, his beer sloshing out of its mug. “That’s it! I’ve had just about enough of your stupid, stupid face!”
“You’re seriously coming at me?” Trip’s hand reflexively slips underneath his tux jacket to settle on the handle of his elephant pistol. “What are you going to do? Flipper me to death?”
Hattie growls out an “Arggh!” and rushes at Trip. Well, tries to rush. He’s pretty fat, and wearing swim fins. And halfway there he hits a wet patch on the plywood floor. His flippered feet fly out from under him and he falls down, cracking the plywood with his ass.
Trip lets go of his pistol. “Can’t even walk without falling down. What a joke.”
“There’s water on the floor, idiot,” Hattie yells between painful groans, waving at the pool spreading out from Rox’s feet.
“And you’re wearing flippers. I’d think you’d be able to handle a little water…” Trip’s voice trails off as he stares at the puddle. “Um, why is the floor wet?”
“That’d be me,” Rox says, “I’m having a baby. Like, right now.”
“Universe, I present to you Tripper Zaphod Alexander Shawn Burton diGriz the Fourth,” a beaming Trip says, lifting the swaddled newborn up towards the ceiling of Rudy’s shack.
Rudy stares at him from the Impala couch. “Dude, our last name isn’t diGriz.”
Trip lowers the newborn. “Shh, the universe doesn’t need to know that.”
“We are not naming him Tripper!” Rox yells through the Empire Strikes Back bedsheet curtain from the back room.
“Fine.” Trip smiles at the little pink face in front of him, the blue eyes, the fine head of hair. He pokes his fingertip gently against the newborn’s turned-up nose and swears he gets a smile back. “Caligula, then,” Trip says proudly.
“Better!” Rox shouts back.
“I’ll tell him,” the long blonde Sister of No Mercy civil patroller called Dorris, stationed at the front door, says through a crack in the door at another patroller stationed on the outside. She closes the door and clears her throat. “Excuse me, Trip.”
“That’s Minister of War Trip to you, trooper.”
“Well, Minister, there’s a woman outside demanding to see you.”
“How do you like that, bro?” Trip smirks at Rudy. “Word must already be out I’m back in charge, but gotta say, wasn’t expecting the sycophants to be swarming me so quickly. Hope whoever she is she brought a lot of cash—there’s a lot of lost bribe-time to make up for.”
“She says she’s your mom,” Dorris says.
Trip’s face goes grim. He holds his hand at chest height. “About this tall, red-haired, and well-armed?”
“Extremely well-armed,” Dorris says.
“That’s mom, all right.” Trip tucks little Caligula under his arm and turns to Rudy. “We gotta go. This place got a back door?”
About the Author
J.I. GRECO is an author, doodler, amateur curmudgeon, and disposable fountain pen owner.
Visit his official website at:
grecoverse.com
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Also by J.I. Greco
Yuki Feldman: Licensed Space Pirate
Dungeon Breakers and the Tower of Doom!
Rocketship Patrol
Broont and Van Helsing: Zombie Makers
Spill
Greed Sloth Arrogance and Shame
Scoundrels of the Wasteland:
#0: Death Blimps of Doom! (Get this free at grecoverse.com!)
#1: Take the All-Mart!
#2: We’re Going to War!
#3: Death From Above!