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mirror man
Senior Member
since 2001-01-08
Posts 814


0 posted 2003-07-12 02:13 AM



Cool Universe
by
mirror man

Chapter 9


     Then it was Sunday.  Sundays at Abnorman’s house were almost always boring, and this Sunday was no different.  Daddyo locked himself in a small room in the garage, Maximum Cool went to visit friends, and Too Cool and Abnorman watched TV.  Mama Cool cleaned the house, made things to eat, and talked on the phone.
     This was standard procedure.
     Unfortunately, Abnorman didn’t know this yet.  One of his favorite TV shows was “The Ozzie and Harried Cool Show,” and he thought Ozzie and Harried Cool were one cool dude and dudette.
     Everyone said they were.  
     And he thought the Ozzie-Harried Cool Group was real too.  Everyone said that too.  
     So he thought the Ozzie-Harried Cool Group was okay.  Everyone said that too.  
     So naturally he thought what the Ozzie-Harried Cool Group did was okay too.
     What he didn’t know was that Ozzie and Harried Cool were actually part of a secret plan by certain underground factions of Planet Cool who were using TV to undermine the blissful standard procedure of totally Cool Groups such as Abnorman’s.  The press and entertainment industries of Planet Cool had been seriously weakened by the enemy who were now everywhere in disguise.  Though not in complete control yet, they had proceeded with their second plan of attack and were aiming their dastardly sights on the very heart of the Cool Universe: prime time television.
     Thus, by the use of state of the art technology, superior writing, directing, and producing, they were able to make “The Ozzie and Harried Cool Show” not only look real, but seem as if this was the way it was supposed to be.  
     Then, by the actions of each member of the Cool Group, they would make subliminal suggestions about what a Cool Group ought to do: go to church, visit relatives, have picnics, go to baseball games, and even vacation together.  The parents would participate in PTA, bake sales, and community organizations.  The kids would study for school, join sports teams, and once in a while do something almost artistic.  And if anyone had a problem, everyone else got involved to solve it.
     It was very effective.  Especially when everyone said what awful actors they were.  Who could doubt such sincere schmaltz?
     So it was that, when lunch time came, and everyone was seated at the table to eat, and seeing as how it was the usual boring Sunday, Abnorman was struck with the unaccountable urge to be normal, and he said, “Hey, I know what we can do.  Let’s all go to the park.  We can ride the rides, play games, and have a great time.  They even have a swimming pool.  How about it, Daddyo?”
     “No,” said Daddyo.
     “Why not?” said Abnorman.
     “It costs too much,” said Daddyo.
     Daddyo was always saying this, so Abnorman was ready for him.
     “How much does it cost?” said Abnorman.
     “Five bucks,” said Daddyo.
     “Okay,” said Abnorman.  “I’ll pay.”
     “You got five bucks?” said Daddyo.
     “No,” said Abnorman.  “Can I borrow five bucks?”
     “No,” said Daddyo.
     “I’ll pay it back,” said Abnorman confidently.
     “You got lousy credit,” said Daddyo.
     “But I’ve never borrowed anything before,” said Abnorman.  “How can I have lousy credit?”
     “No credit is lousy credit,” said Daddyo.
     Later, Abnorman would look this up in the Book and discover that this wasn’t stinginess on Daddyo’s part but sound monetary practice employed by nearly all the major businesses in the Universe.  Daddyo wasn’t being cheap, he was just being financially wise.  Abnorman would expect no less from the First Bank of Planet Cool.
     This hadn’t worked out the way Abnorman had planned, so he switched to plan B.  He looked around the table and said, “Anybody got five bucks I can borrow?”
     “No,” everyone said.
     He looked around the table again.  Everyone either frowned back or looked up at the ceiling.
     “Who wants to go to the park?” he said.
     “I do,” said Too Cool.
     “I do,” said Maximum Cool (there were always babes in the park).
     “That sounds nice,” said Mama Cool.
     Daddyo didn’t say anything.
     “Then let’s go,” said Abnorman.
     “It costs five bucks,” said Daddyo, “and I don’t want to go.”
     “Why not?” said Abnorman.
     “Because I’ve got something useful to do.  Maybe,” said Daddyo, “you should try doing something useful too.”
     “Like what?” said Abnorman.
     “I don’t know,” said Daddyo.  “Build something.”
     “Like what?” said Abnorman.
     “What do you want to build?” said Daddyo.
     “I don’t want to build anything,” said Abnorman.  “I want to go to the park.”
     “It costs five bucks,” said Daddyo.
     Abnorman thought about this and said, “Okay.  I want to build a rocket ship.”
     “That’s more like it,” said Daddyo.
     “The parts cost five bucks,” said Abnorman.  “Can I borrow five bucks?”
     “No,” said Daddyo.
     “Why not?” said Abnorman.  “It’s for something useful.”
     “Likely story,” said Daddyo.
     “How am I supposed to do something useful if I don’t have any money?” said Abnorman.
     “That’s a good question,” said Daddyo shrewdly.
     “Let’s play becheezie,” said Mama Cool.
     “You could get a job,” said Daddyo.
     “Get a job?” said Abnorman.  Get a job!  Where the heck did that come from?  “I’m only five years old.  Who’s gonna hire a kid who’s only five years old?”
     “Good point,” said Daddyo.  “I guess you’re stuck with becheezie.”
     So that was that.  They never went.  But Abnorman did learn how to play becheezie.

     After lunch, when everyone went back to whatever it was they were doing before, Abnorman thought about all this and realized that something wasn’t right.  No one seemed to be fighting the war to save the universe any more, and no one seemed to even care.  If this was the way things were going to be, if this was cool, if this was sane, then he didn’t want any part of it.  And if no one else was going to do anything about it, then he’d just have to do something himself.
     So he dug up Daddyo’s diving helmet and two spittoons for his hands and invaded the neighborhood as the Saucerman.
     As the Saucerman, one can do marvelous things.  Things like vaporize the kitchen table.  Zap.  Then the dining room table.  Zap.  Then the refrigerator.  Zap.  Then the burner barrel.  Zap.  They all went, one by one.  Zap, zap, zap.  First the high pitched searing sound of his famous death ray, then the victim glows white, falls down, and disintegrates into a white ash.
     Then Abnorman assembled his army of wizened old spacemen and descended on the neighborhood.  He got the Maroons first.  They were easy prey.  Then the Pukes.  Hugh Marlowe.  And almost, but not quite, Joan Taylor.  He couldn’t fry her because she was already hot; so he just fried her clothes.  Then he went to the baseball field and fried all the bullies playing baseball.
     Then, just as he was melting the backstop, a giant, glowing spaceship fell out of the sky and landed in the outfield with a loud zooooooom! and a putt!  A second later, the front door opened, and a guy dude wearing a silver space suit walked out and stood on the pitcher’s mound.  Behind him walked a giant, one-eyed, shining metal robot.
     “Stop!” yelled the guy dude in the silver space suit.
     Abnorman turned off his spittoons, looked around, and said, “What?  Who?  Me?”
     “Yes, you,” said the guy dude sternly.  “What do you think you’re doing?”
     Abnorman looked around again and said, “Well, I guess I’m vaporizing the world.”
     “That’s not nice,” said the guy dude in the silver space suit.
     Now this was too much, and Abnorman said, “Wait a minute.  Who the heck are you, anyway?  I live around here, and I’ve never seen you before.”  But there did seem to be something vaguely familiar about him.
     Then the guy dude raised a hand in the air, pointed upward, and said, “I am Kulaat!” just like that.
     Abnorman looked up to where the guy dude was pointing, but he didn’t see anything.  Then he said, “So?”
     “So it’s not nice to vaporize the world,” said Kulaat.
     “So what’s it to you if I want to vaporize the world?” said Abnorman.
     “It’s my job,” said Kulaat.
     “Yeah, well go somewhere else and do your job,” said Abnorman.  “I’m busy.”  He turned on his spittoons and began melting the backstop again.
     “Very well,” said Kulaat with a sigh.  He turned to his giant, one-eyed robot and said, “Grope, do your stuff.”
     Then Grope stepped forward, raised his one giant eyelid, and vaporized Abnorman’s entire army of invading Saucer Geezers.
     It was really gross.  And they smelled bad too.
     “AAAAAA!” Abnorman cried.  “That’s not fair!”  Then he turned to Kulaat and said, “What’s with you anyway?  Don’t you have better things to do than mess up my day?  I couldn’t go to the park, I’m sick of playing becheezie, and now I can’t even vaporize the world.  Why don’t you go do something useful?”
     “You,” said Kulaat, “are behaving erratically.”
     “So?” said Abnorman.
     “So it’s not nice,” said Kulaat.
     “So why do I have to be nice all of a sudden?” said Abnorman.
     “Because...because I....”
     “Go on.  Spit it out,” said Abnorman impatiently.
     “Because, AAbnorman, I am your father,” he said.
     Abnorman jumped.  “My father!”
     “Yes,” said Kulaat softly.  “I am only a handful of what is left of a race of interstellar space-traveling super-geniuses that once spanned the entire galaxy.  A thousand years ago we discovered that our planet was dying, so in order to save the Universe, we made you and left you here.”
     There was a long pause.
     “Wow,” said Abnorman.  This didn’t sound so bad.  He could always get another army of invading Saucer Geezers, but an interstellar space-traveling super-genius father...well, that was something else.  Then, “You made me?  What do you mean, you made me?”
     “Well,” said Kulaat, smiling sheepishly, “you know.”
     “Know what?” said Abnorman.
     “You know,” said Kulaat, blushing furiously.  “The birds and the bees.  That stuff.”  Aw shucks.
     “Oh that,” said Abnorman.  He’d heard about it, vaguely.  “Sure.  So who’s my mother?”
     “Natalie Would,” said Kulaat.
     “No,” said Abnorman, totally awed.
     “It’s true,” said Kulaat.  “Cross my heart and hope to die, if I’m telling a lie.”
     “Wow,” said Abnorman.  “So you’re my father, huh?  And Natalie Would’s my mother.”  Neat.  “Abnorman only has one A, by the way.”
     “No, that’s the way we spell it,” said Kulaat.
     “So?” said Abnorman.
     “So it has meaning,” said Kulaat.
     “So?” said Abnorman.
     “So you have meaning,” said Kulaat.
     “So?” said Abnorman.
     Kulaat frowned.  “You see?  This is what I mean.”
     What? Abnorman thought.  What does meaning mean?  And what does he mean he means?  Also---
     “Go on,” said Kulaat.  “Ask me what it means.”
     “Okay,” said Abnorman.  “What’s it mean?”
     “Savior of the Universe,” said Kulaat, proudly.  “And all around nice guy.”
     “Wow,” said Abnorman.  So at last, Abnorman had found his calling.  Another great event.
     Whatever that meant.
     And it had a kind of ring to it too.
     “So what’s the problem?” said Abnorman.
     “You,” said Kulaat.  “You’re not being nice.  It’s not nice to vaporize the world.”
     “So why do I gotta be nice?” said Abnorman.  “It’s not even slightly cool.”  
     “It’s the Code of Kulaat,” said Kulaat.  “Someday, you too will be an interstellar space-traveling super-genius, like me.  So you have to be nice.”
     “Really?” said Abnorman.
     “Really,” said Kulaat.
     “Will I have my own space ship?” said Abnorman.
     “Sure,” said Kulaat.
     “What will I do?” said Abnorman.
     “You’ll travel the galaxy righting wrongs and delivering stern speeches about being nice,” said Kulaat.
     “Will I have five bucks?” said Abnorman.
     “No,” said Kulaat.  “Virtue is its own reward.”
     Abnorman frowned.   “That doesn’t sound very nice,” he said.
     “You’ll get used to it,” said Kulaat.
     Abnorman didn’t think so.  He thought about everything Kulaat had told him, and said, “Well, then maybe you should tell me what nice is.”
     There was a long, awkward silence, during which Kulaat and Grope stared puzzledly at each other, and then Abnorman said, “I mean, what is it?  If you want me to be nice, I think I ought to at least know what it is.”
     “Oh,” said Kulaat.  He stopped to think about this for a moment, conferred with Grope, and then turned back to Abnorman and said, “Niceness is the essence of goodness.”
     “The essence of goodness?” said Abnorman.  He puzzled over this and said, “Okay.  Then what’s goodness?”
     Kulaat had to stop to think about this also, conferred with Grope again, and then turned back to Abnorman and said, “Goodness is the essence of virtue.”
     “The essence of virtue?” said Abnorman.  This also was something new, and he said, “Okay.  Then what’s virtue?”
     This seemed to throw Kulaat for an interstellar loop, because he talked with Grope for maybe five minutes, and then he turned back to Abnorman and said, “Virtue is the foundation of truth, honor, justice, charity, respect, trust, love, faith, hope, and empathy.”
     Which was true, if a little elaborate.
     “Oh,” said Abnorman.  He thought about all this and said, “Okay.  What’s truth?”
     “AAAAAAK!” Kulaat screamed.  “You’re driving me nuts!”  He started waving his arms around in the air and walking in circles.
     “Maybe you’d better just write it down,” said Abnorman tactfully.
     Kulaat scowled, turned to Grope, conferred again, and Grope began churning out printed pages from under his eyelid.  After Kulaat had collected about five hundred pages, he said, “Here.  Read this.  It says everything there is to know about niceness.”
     He handed them to Abnorman with a whump!
     “Holy cow!” said Abnorman.  He stumbled under the weight and began to get the feeling that being an interstellar space-traveling super-genius was going to be a lot harder than he had thought.
     He started reading the first page.  “You’ll never save the Universe if you keep slouching like that,” it said.
     “Geez!” said Abnorman.
     “What now?” said Kulaat.
     “Can’t you just give me the space ship and show me how it works?  I’ll worry about all this stuff later.”
     “No,” said Kulaat.  “You might reduce some perfectly nice world to a burning cinder, and then where would we be?”
     And then suddenly it hit him.  “Now I know where I’ve seen you!” said Abnorman.  “You landed in New York City---”
     “Washington,” said Kulaat.”
     “Right,” said Abnorman, “and you melted the US Army and they shot you and then you rented an apartment and talked to Sam---”
     “Albert Einstein,” said Kulaat.
     “Right,” said Abnorman, “and then they shot you and you came back to life and then you gave a stern speech about violence and badness and space travel and how if the world didn’t change its ways you were going to vaporize the Earth.  Yeah, now I remember.”
     “That wasn’t me,” said Kulaat.  “You’re thinking of my brother.”
     “You brother?” said Abnorman.  He stopped to think.
     This idea had never occurred to him.
     “Yeah,” said Kulaat.  “He was crazy.”
     “He was?”
     “Yeah,” said Kulaat.  “I mean, look at what he did.  They shot him once, and what’s he do?  He rents an apartment.”
     “That’s true,” said Abnorman.  He thought about this and said, “But he got to play with a neat choo-choo.”
     “Right,” said Kulaat, who evidently had never played with a really neat choo-choo.  “And then, surprise! they shoot him again.”
     “I didn’t do it,” said Abnorman.
     “And then, when he comes back to life, what’s he do?” said Kulaat, now totally exasperated.  “He gives a speech about being nice and how mad he’s going to be if they aren’t.”  He gazed wistfully at the sky and said, “He was a good speaker.”
     Abnorman thought about this and said, “I see your point.”
     “Right,” said Kulaat, and added sincerely, “He was probably the nicest guy I ever knew.”
     Abnorman thought about this some more and then said, “Well, excuse me for asking, but if being nice is crazy, then why do you want me to study niceness, be nice, and travel the galaxy giving speeches about being nice?”
     “Because I’m not crazy,” said Kulaat.
     “Oh,” said Abnorman.
     That made sense.
     “Now go home, be nice, and think about what you almost did,” said Kulaat.  Then he and Grope got back into their glowing saucer and sped off into outer space.
     And Abnorman went home, was nice, and things went back to normal.
     It was hard at first, but he reasoned it thus: if he couldn’t vaporize the world, at least now he knew he wasn’t related to all those strange dudes he was living with.  And of course, being a future interstellar space-traveling super-genius was okay too.  And since saving the Universe was practically his middle name, then he’d have to learn all there was about being nice.
     The only bad part was that now he couldn’t get hot over Natalie Would.


     copyright 1998, 2000

     Author’s note: this is a work of fiction.  All characters and events portrayed in this work are fictional, and any resemblance to real life hypocrites, bullies, and liars is merely coincidental.

[This message has been edited by mirror man (07-12-2003 02:31 AM).]

© Copyright 2003 mirror man - All Rights Reserved
mirror man
Senior Member
since 2001-01-08
Posts 814

1 posted 2003-08-05 12:52 PM


To anyone reading this:

Author's unpleasant note: this is the final and only version of this novel that I have released to the public.  However, this novel has been copied and used by others without my knowledge or consent.  So if you should happen to come across another copy of this novel, under this name or another, in any medium, on the web or not, it is not released with my knowledge and consent and so is pirate.  Or plagiarism.  Or both.

mirror man
Senior Member
since 2001-01-08
Posts 814

2 posted 2003-08-09 08:25 AM


Special note to teachers, educators:

This novel, this version, may be copied and distributed in any medium as needed for classroom study.

-- mirror man


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