Balloon Boy and the Porcupine Pals: Antihooliganism

by Mort Gloss

  Chapter 6 - Temporary Immortality

  Balloon Builds a Spaceship; He Tries

  to Convince Tom to Help Rescue Victory's Dad

  "Are you sure we're going to be able to get everything we need here?" asked Russ. "When I thought about building a spaceship, I didn't exactly think we'd be able to get all the stuff we needed at Parts-O-Rama."

  "Well, we ain't gonna git everthang we need up in here I reckon," replied Balloon, while placing four sets of jumper cables in the cart, "but we can git a whole heap of her. I reckon we gonna need us more carts, on account a this here list a stuff." As he spoke, Balloon reached for nearly every part on the aisle. His enormity would often get in the way, knocking over products and scattering them on the floor.

  "Where did you come up with the list?" asked Russ, somewhat surprised Balloon could conceive such an idea on his own.

  "I says to ma head, what stuff is we gonna need to git this here single-wide into a spaceship? And them answers started fillin' up ma head, so I figured I better make a list so as I don't forget 'n what not. Anyways, after I's done wrote everthang down I gots to lookin at this here list 'n reckoned I's gonna git most of her up to Parts-O-Rama. I's figurin' we's gonna buy most everthang in this here store."

  Balloon, in his idiotic brilliance, determined early on that the best vehicle for space travel was his own single-wide trailer. He toyed with the idea of building a spaceship from scratch, but his guesses informed him it would take almost a year. When he asked himself how long it would take to transform his own single-wide into a spaceship, the answer was a much more manageable seven weeks. Since Victory's dad was scheduled to die in 10 months, he figured the single-wide would have to do. As an added bonus, he also realized he wouldn't have to pack. Both Tom and Russ scoffed at the idea at first, dubbing Balloon's single-wide the W.A.S.P., or white trash spaceship. But when each asked Balloon the necessary questions regarding whether the single-wide could hold up during space flight, Balloon's guessed responses were always in the affirmative.

  Russ decided he would accompany the space voyagers the minute Balloon succumbed to Victory's charms. First and foremost, he was concerned for Balloon's well-being; he knew Victory would take advantage of him in every possible way. As an added bonus, Russ was excited about the prospect of space travel. Since he was a millionaire in his late twenties, he wasn't concerned about leaving the planet for an extended period of time. He had logical fears about the trip, but had been so convinced of Balloon's abilities that if Balloon said they could go to space in a single-wide trailer, he believed it.

  Tom was a different story. He was furious about Balloon's decision. He didn't really care much about what happened to Balloon or Victory, but was more concerned about losing Balloon's money-making abilities. To make matters worse, Balloon was now too busy working on the single-wide to embark on another treasure hunt. And there was no way Tom could get more than his fair share of the money; it appeared Balloon and Russ were spending their entire $4 million share on the conversion of the single-wide. White trash space travel, it turned out, was an expensive endeavor.

  Although Russ only had a rudimentary knowledge of astronomy and physics, he was intelligent enough to know that traveling to the Sombrero Galaxy, which Balloon said was 29 million light years away, would take some serious speed. He knew, for example, that if Balloon's single-wide could achieve the speed of light it would still take 29 million years to reach their destination. This seemed problematic to Russ. Since they only had approximately eight months to reach Sombrero, obtain the "cure", and return to earth, Russ was curious about how they were going to get to Sombrero so quickly.

  "So Balloon, I've been doing some calculations here, and I'm not sure that we're going to be able make it to Sombrero in time."

  "What you talkin' 'bout? We gots a whole heap a time to git there 'n back if'n the single-wide takes as long as ma head's tellin' me," responded Balloon, still grabbing parts and scratching entries off the list.

  "Yeah, Balloon; I know. But it's not like this other galaxy is the moon; it's pretty far away. How long is it going to take us to get there?"

  Balloon stopped what he was doing, screwed up his face, and popped out the guessed response: "'bout 29 days if'n we go in a straight line, and if'n we don't run into them bandits er nothin'." Without giving the response another thought, he then grabbed every window wiper blade in the store and threw them into Russ' cart.

  Russ, although curious about the window wiper blades, tried to stay on topic. "So you say it's only going to take 29 days. That's traveling one million light years per day, Balloon. Are you sure?"

  "Light what?" said Balloon, barely paying attention.

  "Light years. You know, if you travel the speed of light for a year, a light year. Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

  "Yeah, sho 'nuff. If'n ya was way fat one year, 'n then you done lost some weight 'n what not, I spose ya would have yerself a light year the next one."

  "No, Balloon, listen to what I'm saying. You think we can go one million light years per day in your single-wide? Scientists and physicists... and a lot of people way smarter than me say that's impossible."

  "Yeah, okay," said Balloon. He wasn't even remotely interested in what Russ was talking about. He had seen some king size Twix bars by the cash register and was thinking about a snack.

  "Balloon. Look at me. Is it possible for us to travel faster than the speed of light? Don't give me your opinion, just guess."

  "Ain't no thang."

  "And you're positive we're going to get to Sombrero in less than a month?"

  "I reckon so, if'n we can git the single-wide all rigged 'n ready. We gots to git us some car batteries."

  Russ was convinced. He could tell when Balloon transitioned into guessing mode. And at that point, Balloon was never wrong. The next obvious question was "how," as in, how could the single-wide go faster than the speed of light? Although Russ was no student of science, he had paid attention enough in school to know that the speed of light was commonly accepted as a universal speed limit.

  "Alright, Balloon. So you say we can get to Sombrero in 29 days. How are you going to get the single-wide there that fast."

  Balloon's attention had shifted back to the Twix bars. "Well, uh, I reckon I's jist gonna hook everthang up to her 'n off we go."

  "No, Balloon. I mean, how can the single-wide mechanically do it?"

  "Well, I's been thinkin' 'bout that. What I come up with is this. I gots them video game controllers we'all use fer Lord Protector. Well, thems got joysticks 'n buttons 'n things that shake on 'em. I's thinkin' we could hook 'em up to the single-wide 'n steer around with 'em." Balloon paused, deep in thought. "Only bad part is, we ain't gonna be able to git Lord Protector on whiles we is flyin' around if we do it that-a-ways."

  Frustrated, Russ nearly gave up on the question. He decided he would give it one more try. "Just guess on this one, Balloon. What's going to make the single-wide go faster than the speed of light?"

  Balloon obeyed Russ' instructions, and then began reciting the words that filled his tremendous head. "Because the single-wide will begin its voyage at subluminal velocity, it will require the use of a dual-drive tachypulsometer. Activation of the tachypulsometer's first drive will produce the infinite energy necessary to accelerate to the speed of light. Once luminal velocity is achieved, we will then activate the tachypulsometer's second drive, thereby adding infinite energy to the already existing infinite energy, which will in turn propel the single-wide at superluminal speeds."

  "So we need a dual-drive tachypulsometer. Where are we going to get that?"

  "I reckon we's jist gonna have to put one together."

  "Yeah," said Russ, bemused.

  After 12 shopping carts full of Parts-O-Rama inventory, and numerous trips back and forth to the single-wide to deliver the goods, Balloon and Russ finished their day of shopping. Balloon still had quite a few items on his list, but none of them were available at the parts store.
As the two made their final drive to the single-wide, Balloon wondered where Tom was.

  "Hey, Russ, where's Tommy been the last few days? I ain't seen him fer a good piece."

  "I don't think he's going to be coming along with us, Balloon. He thinks it's too dangerous."

  Balloon nodded with understanding. "Yup, space bandits. Them guys is out there, 'n I reckon they's gonna make a push fer us, jist like in Star Trek."

  "Well, I don't think it's really 'space bandits' he's concerned about. He thinks you're going to get us all blown up, or that the single-wide will disintegrate, or that we'll never make it back." Russ laughed to himself as he thought about Balloon's fear of the bandits.

  "That ain't funny," said Balloon. "I ain't gonna git y'all sploded nohow. I knows that fer a fact. Y'all is gonna be safe in the single-wide; she's real strong."

  The two traveled in silence as the Geo Metro traversed the remaining few miles to Balloon's trailer. As they pulled into the makeshift dirt driveway, Tom was there waiting for them. Balloon heaved his enormous frame out of the car and immediately began discussing the trip with him.

  "I knows I ain't no space flier. But y'all ain't gonna git sploded er lost in astro space er nothin' such like that."

  Tom smiled dryly. "Well hello to you too, Balloon. And no need to fret about the upcoming trip. I'm just not really interested in going. I'll be here when you and Russ get back. Hopefully you'll leave Victoria out there somewhere, but if not, I'll be here when she gets back too."

  "So what do you want?" asked Russ, suspicious.

  "Well, as you know, Russell, if you two are going to be off gallivanting in the cosmos, I'm going to need to make a withdrawal of my portion of the funds. Last time I checked, our repository of $6 million was stashed under Balloon's bed."

  "Tom," began Russ, in a somewhat argumentative tone, "you know you've already spent-"

  "We ain't goin' without ya," interrupted Balloon. "You gots to come with us. They's ain't nothin' fer ya to do 'round here anyways. We'all need yer hep out there."

  "How do you expect me to help, Balloon?" responded Tom, ignoring Russ.

  "Ain't sure what any of y'alls is gonna do. But I know you's the smartest one outta everbody. Well, Vic, she's purty smart 'n all, but she jist gonna be thinkin' 'bout her dyin' pappy 'n his splodin' head 'n everthang." Russ stood silent as Balloon spoke, his arms crossed, his body leaned up against the passenger side of the car. He was doing his best to act like he didn't care whether Tom accompanied them on the trip.

  Although he would have never admitted it, Tom was somewhat flattered by Balloon's pleas for help. "Well you see, Balloon, here's the problem. I've got things pretty good now. I've got millions of dollars, or at least I will have after I make my final withdrawal here. I've got a nice, self-sustaining business; I'm doing great. And, you want me just to leave that all behind so I can go and get killed in your mommy's single-wide? I'm not feeling that."

  "So you's worried 'bout gittin' blown up," said Balloon, challenging Tom's prior explanation.

  "You're dang right I'm worried. Traveling through space isn't like making a trip to Taco Villa, Balloon. There are so many things that can go wrong. I'm just not willing to risk it." Tom paused, shifting his attention to Russ. "Unless you can give me a guarantee."

  "Wait a second," shouted Russ, alarmed by Tom's words. "You can't ask him for a guarantee. That's against the rules."

  Tom slightly shook his head and looked down at the dirt driveway. Balloon, as usual, was confused. "What y'all mean, rules?" he asked. "What rules y'all takin' 'bout?"

  "We have rules about what we ask you," answered Russ. "We set them up weeks ago, right after we found out about-you know, your guessing."

  "This doesn't break the rules," interjected Tom. "I'm not asking him about the future; I'm just asking for a guarantee. I don't want any details."

  "It's against the rules, and you know it," replied Russ. "You can't ask him that."

  "Why y'all got to have rules 'bout what y'all needs to know?"

  "Because," explained Russ, "if we break these rules, then we could screw everything up, or find out something we don't want to know, or maybe find out something that's better left unknown."

  "Huh?" grunted Balloon.

  "The rules don't allow us to ask you questions about certain subjects." Russ came around to Balloon's side of the Metro to offer a more detailed explanation. "So, we've decided we can't ask you questions about three things. First, no questions about our futures. Like, when am I going to die? Or, am I going to have kids? Crap like that."

  "I'm not asking about the future, Russ," said Tom, defending himself.

  "Shut up a minute. See, Balloon. What if I asked you when I was going to die, and you said tomorrow? That would really suck. But even worse, what if it was 30 years from now, but I knew exactly when it was going to happen, and how it was going to happen? That would be way too much information to handle. Same with other kinds of information about the future, like kids and girlfriends and wives. Does that make sense?"

  "Plus," added Tom, "we might screw up the future you tell us about, either by trying to avoid it, or trying to make it happen. We just don't want to mess with anything like that. But that's not what I'm doing here, Russ."

  "Wait a second," replied Russ, his voice raised. "I haven't finished explaining the rules. So that's the first rule, no questions about the future. The second rule is similar: no questions about religion, creation, evolution, the existence of God, none of that."

  "Evolutin-whatty?"

  "Questions about the origin of the human race. How the earth was formed. If we go on after death. None of that stuff," explained Russ.

  "Why don't y'all want to know 'bout her?" asked Balloon.

  "Sometimes ignorance is bliss, Balloon," said Tom. "It might be a real bummer to know too much about that stuff."

  "Or to find out there is nothing to know," added Russ.

  Balloon, as far as he could tell, did not agree. "But if'n y'all was to know, y'all would know, and y'all wouldn't have to not know no more."

  "Well said, Balloon," responded Tom. "Like I said before though, ignorance is bliss on that one."

  "What you mean, bliss-"

  "Never mind, Balloon," said Russ, interrupting. "On to the last rule: no questions about Paul McCartney."

  "Who?"

  "Don't ask a question about him!" said Tom. "Don't ask yourself who he is, what he did, when he was born, if he's dead. Not a single question!" Tom was serious now.

  "This rule is more about Tom," explained Russ. "We've always had a certain dispute concerning Paul McCartney, and he thinks it would be unfair if you just told us the answer. I just think he's realized, after all these years, that he's wrong. And he's afraid of that. But in the end I agreed with him on this one, just to preserve the other rules."

  "Alright, let's just leave it at that. No reason to belabor the point," said Tom, trying to shift the conversation to a different topic. "Anyway, Balloon, I'm not interested in going on your little space trip, not unless I can get that guarantee."

  "Tom, I really think that violates the rules. If Balloon is commenting on your future, then he's telling you about the future. No questions about the future, remember?"

  "Well, y'all wait a second," interrupted Balloon. "What y'all meanin' 'bout 'guarantee?' Ain't that when y'all buy somethin' at the store, and they gonna let y'all take her back if'n it ain't no good?"

  "Well, kind of," answered Tom. "The kind of guarantee I'm looking for is one about whether or not I'm going to get killed in your single-wide death trap here. I'm looking for a guarantee that, if I go with you, I'm not going to die. But I don't want any details, and I certainly don't want to know when I'm going to die, or anything like that. All I want is a guarantee of..., well of a temporary immortality of sorts."

  "I still think that breaks the rules, Tom," said Russ. "If you find out you're going to die on the single-wide, what if that means those of us who are actually going will di
e too? There's too much at stake in telling you."

  "I ain't got no clue what y'all mean 'bout tempulary immorality, but it ain't no thang tellin' if you's gonna die on that there single-wide." Balloon had clearly decided it was alright to tell Tom whether he would survive, and perhaps already knew the answer.

  "Well, my good Russell, it appears to me that you're outvoted, outwitted, and outplayed. Are you still against Balloon revealing my fate?"

  "Yeah, I'm against it," said Russ, annoyed. "I just don't think it's a good idea. But, whatever."

  "Alright, it's settled then. Balloon, answer me this question: if Tom Starley accompanies Balloon, Russ, and the hateful Victory on their voyage to space, will he complete the voyage without dying?"

  Balloon crunched up his face, closed his eyes, asked himself the question, and replied: "yup."

  "That's all I needed, Balloon," said Tom in excitement. "I'll go with you. I'll even help you build your stupid white trash spaceship. All I needed was a little reassuring, a little temporary immortality."

  Chapter 7 - Goodbye, Momma

  Balloon Completes Construction on the Single-Wide,

  and Says Goodbye to His Momma