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


0 posted 2003-07-24 09:13 PM



Cool Universe
by
mirror man

Chapter 15



     All the way home from Californaheim, all Abnorman could think about was how great it was to have a reanimated rat from his end-term project.  He couldn’t think of anything better.  It was so...Cool.
     But when he walked in the front door, there was Daddyo.
     “What’s in the box?” said Daddyo suspiciously.
     And suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a great idea any more.
     “My end term project,” said Abnorman.
     “What is it?” said Daddyo suspiciously.
     “Nothing,” said Abnorman innocently.
     “What is it?” said Daddyo suspiciously.
     “Just something we put together,” said Abnorman innocently.
     “What is it!” yelled Daddyo.
     Abnorman jumped.  “A rat.”
     “A RAT!” screamed Daddyo.  
     “Well, actually---”
     “Hand it over,” said Daddyo, holding out his hand.
     “It’s reanimated,” said Abnorman.
     “Hand it over,” said Daddyo again.
     “He’s not well,” said Abnorman.
     “Gimme that rat!” yelled Daddyo.  And he made a lunge for the box.
     “No!” Abnorman yelled, and held it back behind him.
     “Gimme that rat!” yelled Daddyo, grabbing for the rat.
     But Abnorman held the rat out of his reach either way Daddyo grabbed.
     “Gimme that rat!” yelled Daddyo again.  And this time, he reached both ways at once.
     And then Abnorman turned around and wrapped himself around the box.  “No!  No!”
     And then they both landed on the floor together.
     “Ooof!”
     “Gimme that!” said Daddyo loudly.
     “:No!” said Abnorman.
     “Give it up!” yelled Daddyo, reaching for the box.
     “No!” said Abnorman.
     Then Daddyo reached his hand under Abnorman’s arm and got him in a hammer lock.  “Ouch!” said Abnorman.
     “Now I gotcha,” said Daddyo.  Hee hee.  And he yanked on Abnorman’s arm.
     “Ow!” said Abnorman.
     “Gimme that rat!” said Daddyo.
     “No!” said Abnorman.  And then, “Ow!”
     Then Tool Cool and Maximum Cool walked in and saw Daddyo and Abnorman wrestling on the floor..
     “What rat?” said Too Cool.
     “He’s got a rat in that box,” said Daddyo.
     “Cool,” said Maximum Cool.
     “Give it up,” said Daddyo.
     “Better give it up,” said Maximum Cool.  “He’s gotcha.”
     “No!” said Abnorman.
     “Ha ha!” said Too Cool.
     “No!” said Abnorman.  And then, “Ow!”
     “Give it up,” said Daddyo.
     “No!” said Abnorman.  And, “Ow!  Ow!  Ow!”
     “Give it up!” said Daddyo again.
     “No!” said Abnorman.  And, “Ow!  Ow!  Ow!”
     And then Mama Cool walked in.
     And everyone was silent.
     Daddyo and Abnorman suddenly quit fighting and looked up at Mama Cool guiltily.  “What?” they said.
     “For shame!” said Mama Cool sternly.  “You should be ashamed of yourselves, fighting like that.”  She pointed at them sternly, just in case anyone couldn’t tell who she meant.
     Daddyo and Abnorman looked at each other.
     “He started it,” said Daddyo.
     “Did not,” said Abnorman.
     “What’s this all about?” said Mama Cool.
     “He’s got a rat!” said Daddyo.
     “It’s my end-term project,” said Abnorman.
     “It’s a rat!” said Daddyo.
     “He’s special,” said Abnorman.  “Cousin Schizotonic and I made him.  He’s going to be my end term project.”
     “It’s still a rat!” said Daddyo.
     “Now, now,” said Mama Cool.  And she looked at them both sweetly and said, “Now, why don’t we take a look at it first.”  And to Daddyo, “Before we decide.”
     Daddyo scowled around the room, scowled at Abnorman, and then look up at Mama Cool and said, “Well, okay.  But I got him down fair and square.”
     “I’m sure you did,” said Mama Cool sweetly.
     “Oh...okay!” said Daddyo angrily.  And he let go of Abnorman.
     And then both stood up and brushed themselves off.
     “Okay,” said Mama Cool sweetly.  “Now Abnorman, show us your rat.”
     So Abnorman lifted the lid of the box. And inside was Homer, crouched in a ball in one corner amid a litter of torn newspapers and sawdust.  One leg was white, one was gray, one was brown, and one was black.  His body was mostly brown, and his head was mottled with spots of all four.
     “He looks weird,” said Too Cool.
     “It’s not just any rat,” said Abnorman.  “It’s a reanimated rat.  His name is Homer.  Cousin Schizotonic and I made him from an old club sandwich.  He’s gonna get me an A on my school project.”
     “A rat?’” said Mama Cool.
     “Yuck.  A dead rat,” said Too Cool.
     “You made him from a what?” said Maximum Cool.
     “Who ever heard of a rat with ten different colors fur?” said Daddyo.
     “That’s because he’s ten different rats,” said Abnorman.  “See, there’s a bolt to hold on his tail.  His head and legs are stitched on, paper clips to hold on the ears, and crazy glue for the eyes and teeth.”
     Homer looked up and smiled.
     “Crazy glue,” said Maximum Cool.
     Abnorman added proudly, “He’s a real work of art.”
     “He looks weird,” said Daddyo.
     “Yes, yes,” said Mama Cool, standing back when she’d seen enough.  “He certainly is different.”
     “He’s not just different,” said Abnorman, “he’s reanimated.”
     “Yes...well,” said Mama Cool, and Abnorman could tell she didn’t know what that meant.
     “He’s all screwed up,” Daddyo grumbled.
     “He looks crazy,” said Maximum Cool.
     “He looks dead,” said Too Cool.
     “Can I keep him, Mama Cool?” said Abnorman.
     “I won’t have some crazy, mixed-up, dead rat crawling around the house!” yelled Daddyo.
     “Can I keep him?  Please?” said Abnorman to Mama Cool.
     “Well....”
     “I’ll keep him in the box,” said Abnorman.  “He won’t run around the house.  And I’ll feed him and clean him.  So he won’t be a bother to anyone.”
     “I don’t know,” she said.  She turned to Daddyo and said, “What’s it say in the Book?”
     “Good point,” said Daddyo.  He walked over to the Big Book of Cool Family Tradition and opened it.  He read for a long time.
     “What are you reading?” said Mama Cool.
     “There’s all kinds of rats here,” said Daddyo.  “Pickled rat, filleted rat, fricasseed rat, fried rat, sautéed rat, scalloped rat.....”  He looked at Abnorman.  “What kind is yours?”
     “Dead,” said Abnorman.
     Daddyo read some more and then suddenly closed the book loudly and said, “Oh...Okay!”
     Then Mama Cool turned to Abnorman, smiled sweetly, and said, “I guess you can keep your rat.”
     “But it also says he’s not supposed to crawl around like that,” said Daddyo.  “So as soon as you get your grade, out he goes.”
     “Oh, thank you, Mama Cool,” said Abnorman, giving her a great big hug.
     “You’re welcome,” said Mama Cool sweetly, hugging him back.
     Daddyo looked at them hugging, frowned, and said, “What about me?  Don’t I get any thanks?”
     “Oh, sure,” said Abnorman, standing back.  “Thanks.”
     “What kind of a thank you is that?” said Daddyo.
     “What’s it say in the Book?” said Abnorman.
     “Oh, yeah.”  Daddyo opened the Book, read it, closed it, looked at Abnorman, smiled sweetly, and said, “You’re welcome.”  He looked at Homer and said, “You’re welcome, too.”  And then he walked out, smiling sweetly.
     Maximum Cool and Too Cool began to walk out also.
     “Thank you, too,” said Abnorman.
     “I don’t want a hug!” said Maximum Cool.
     “Get away!” said Too Cool.

     Meanwhile, down at the gates to hell:
     King Rat was conferring with his cohorts when a messenger approached and interrupted them.
     “I have good news, your Ratship,” said the messenger.  “Abnorman has returned with a rat.”
     “A rat!” said King Rat and all his cohorts.
     “Yes,” said the messenger excitedly.
     Then King Rat looked all around and said, “That is excellent news.”  He looked at the messenger and said, “Is it a local?”
     “No,” said the messenger, “It’s from Californaheim.”
     “Californaheim!” said King Rat excitedly.  “Excellent!  Excellent!  We must welcome this new friend to our group.  Bring him here as soon as possible.”
     “Yes, your Ratship, sir,” said the messenger.  “It will be done tonight.”

     And back on terra firma:
     So Homer had been accepted into Abnorman’s crazy, mixed-up, Traditional Cool Family Group, yes.  But Abnorman was not deceived.  He had already looked up “You’re welcome” in the Big Book before, and it said, “You can say you’re welcome, but you don’t have to mean it.”  So Abnorman knew Daddyo didn’t like Homer, didn’t want him around, resented him even.  So Abnorman knew enough not to let Homer out of his sight even for a minute.
     When Abnorman ate supper, Homer ate with him.
     “Hey!” Daddyo yelled, “He’s using food.”
     “He only eats what I eat,” said Abnorman defensively.
     When Abnorman used the bathroom, Homer went with him.
     “Hey!” yelled Daddyo, “he’s using water.”
     “He only uses what I use,” said Abnorman.
     When Abnorman watched TV, Homer watched with him.
     “Hey!” yelled Daddyo, “he’s using electricity.”
     “He only watches what I watch,” said Abnorman.  “Willard’s his favorite.”
     Every time Abnorman did anything with Homer, Daddyo raised a million objections, and for every objection Daddyo raised, Abnorman countered with a completely off the wall, bogus excuse.  Pretty clever, huh?
     Even so, as tolerant as everyone was about Homer staying in the house, Abnorman knew that for the next few days he would have to watch over Homer and never, ever let him out of his sight.
     Then came bed time.
     “Do you have to bring that thing into bed with you?” Too Cool whined.
     “It’s just until I go back to school,” said Abnorman.  “Besides, he’s sleepy.”
     “I don’t like it,” said Too Cool.  “He looks at me funny.”
     Abnorman could understand that.  “He won’t bite,” said Abnorman.  “I just fed him.”
     “Yeah?”
     “Yeah,” said Abnorman.  “Anyway, he’s in the box.  He can’t get out.”
     “Yeah?” said Too Cool, thinking it over.  “Well...okay.  Just keep him away from me.  He gives me the creeps.”
     “No problem,” said Abnorman.  The last thing he wanted was for Too Cool to start to like Homer...or vice versa.
     This seemed to satisfy Too Cool, and he turned over in bed and closed his eyes to sleep.  Then Abnorman turned off the lights, and with happy thoughts mixed with unease, and one arm around Homer’s box and his head on the top, he slowly drifted off to sleep also.

     Abnorman woke up sometime in the middle of the night.  His head was lying on the mattress, and the box was gone.  He stood up straight in bed, eyes wide open and fully awake.
     “Hey!  What happened?” he said.
     “What?” said Too Cool, also wide awake and sitting up in bed.
     “What happened?” said Abnorman again.  “Where’s Homer?”
     “I don’t know,” said Too Cool.  “I didn’t see anything.”
     “What’d you do with him?” Abnorman demanded.
     “I don’t have him,” said Too Cool, holding out his empty hands.
     “Where is he?” said Abnorman.  “You know something.”
     “I don’t know nothin’,” said Too Cool.  “If someone came in and took him out, it wasn’t my fault.”
     Then Abnorman jumped out of bed and ran out of the bedroom in his pajamas.  There was Daddyo standing in the dark by the cellar door.
     “Daddyo,” said Abnorman.  “What’re you doing here?”
     “Just looking around,” said Daddyo innocently.
     “It’s dark,” said Abnorman.  “There’s nothing to see.”
     “I thought I heard a noise,” said Daddyo.
     “Did you see Homer?” said Abnorman.  “His box is gone.”
     “I think I heard the cellar door close,” said Daddyo.  “He might have gone down there.”
     “Thanks,” said Abnorman, and yanking open the cellar door, he raced down the steps to the basement under the house.

     It was very dark down there, so the first thing Abnorman did was light a torch.  He walked across the floor and through another door into a network of ancient catacombs.  Beyond this, he knew, was the River Styx, and beyond that was the gateway to Hell.
     The air was very damp and cold, and thick coats of niter dripped from the walls and formed stalactites on the ceiling.  He found a lot of old bones, an open case of Medoc, a cask of Armadillo, and a walled-up corpse.
     But no Homer.
     He wandered through a maze of dark, dank passages and low hanging archways, by crypts half open out of which flew bats now and then, by coffins full of Transylvanian earth, and unburied skeletons lying in shelves along the walls.
     But no Homer.
     Finally, after hours of wandering, he ended at the river and sat down on a nearby skull to contemplate his fate.
     He looked down into its deep waters.
     “Oh, woe is me,” he said to no one.  His end-term project seemed hopelessly lost.  Without Homer, he would not get an A on his end-term project.  Without Homer, he wouldn’t even have an end-term project.  Without Homer, he didn’t know what he would do.  And besides all that, he kind of liked the little guy.
     “Oh, poor poor Homer,” he said to himself.
     Then he heard a noise and looked up.  It was Cousin Satan.
     “Cousin Satan!” said Abnorman.  “What are you doing here?”
     “What am I doing here?” said Cousin Satan.  “I live here.  What are you doing here?”
     “You live here?” said Abnorman.
     “Sure,” said Cousin Satan.  “There’s the river Styx,” he said, pointing to the river.  “And that’s hell,” he said, pointing to the other side.
     Abnorman turned around and looked.  There was the river all right.  And on the other side was a large fire, around which were black shapes of something like people dancing around who were chasing and holding some small things which were squealing and squirming as they variously roasted them or ate them or both.  Or at least they seemed to be.  Abnorman decided not to ask.
     “Yeah, you’re right,” said Abnorman.
     “So what are you doing here?” said Cousin Satan.  “Not that I’m complaining.”
     “I’m looking for Homer.”
     “Who’s he?”
     “He’s my rat,” said Abnorman.
     “Well,” said Cousin Satan, “if you’re looking for a rat, I guess this is the place.”
     “He’s not just any rat,” said Abnorman.  “He’s reanimated.”
     “Oh,” said Cousin Satan.  “Did he have olives for eyes.”
     “Yes,” said Abnorman.
     “And beef jerky for legs?” said Cousin Satan.
     “Yes,” said Abnorman hopefully.
     “And fur like...mold?” said Cousin Satan.
     “Yes, yes!” said Abnorman.
     “Never saw him,” said Cousin Satan.  Adding, “Burrrp!”
     It took Abnorman a moment.  Then, “Oh!” he said, and “Oh!” and, being nearly speechless, “Bad!  Bad!” pointing.
     “I didn’t eat your stupid club sandwich,” said Cousin Satan, greatly offended.  “He was too fast for me.  All I got was this.”  And he held out a piece of dirty spaghetti with a bolt on it.
     “Homer!” said Abnorman, quickly grabbing it.  And then, remembering, his eyes started to water and he pooched up his mouth and cried, “Oh, poor poor Homer.”  Boo hoo hoo.
     Cousin Satan looked on with disgust.  “I can’t believe you mooning over a dead club sandwich,” he said.
     “He was my end-term project,” said Abnorman sadly.
     “Oh,” said Cousin Satan.
     End-term projects were very important things.  Especially in hell.
     Cousin Satan watched on in silence as Abnorman variously cried, boo hooed, and blubbered over his dead club sandwich.  And slowly a feeling came over him which was almost, nearly, human.
     “Hey,” he said finally, “I can’t get you your club sandwich back.  But how about this instead?”  He held it out for Abnorman.
     Abnorman stopped crying and looked up at what Cousin Satan held in his hand.  “What is it?” he said.
     “A flying phlegm.”
     Abnorman looked at it.  A flat blob of something, it was black and slimy and dripping a smelly ooze.  All around evil looking.  And just the thing to ease the pain of a kid losing his reanimated rat.  Cousin Satan knew his stuff.
     “What’s it do?” said Abnorman.
     “You throw it in the air,” said Cousin Satan.  “And it flies around and attaches itself to someone’s face.”
     “That’s it?”
     “And sucks their brains out.”
     “Oh,” said Abnorman.  He considered it.  It wasn’t as good as a reanimated rat.  But it might do in a pinch.  “Okay,” he said, taking it from Cousin Satan.  “Thanks.”  He put it in his pocket.
     Cousin Satan considered saying You're welcome, and decided not to.  This was really too much.  Especially when Abnorman went back to mooning over his dirty spaghetti with a bolt on the end of it.  
     “Seeya, kid,” he said.  And he left.  
     So Abnorman was left to moon over his moldy spaghetti with a bolt on the end of it by himself.  
     “Oh, poor poor Homer,” he said.  Boo hoo hoo.
     A little while later, he fell off his skull and into the river.

     As for Homer, he was a very good swimmer, having escaped from Cousin Satan by diving into the river earlier.  He swam all the way to the other side.  He walked up on shore and joined a line of sinners walking through the gates to hell.
     Cousin Satan beamed proudly as he welcomed each new sinner to their new home.
     “Welcome, welcome,” said Cousin Satan happily.  He shook the hand of each one.  It was a very long line, and very slow.  And they all hung their heads in shame.
     There was an Untouchably Cool One, touched by greed and power.
     There was the Father who knew better, the victim of bad writing and worse acting.
     There was Ozzie and Harried Cool, the victims of changing mores and Elvis impersonators.
     And then there was Buffalo Chips, dragging Yo Dummy behind.
     “You can stay,” said Cousin Satan to Buffalo Chips, “but the dummy goes.”
     “Really,” said Buffalo Chips indignantly.  “It’s just as much his fault as mine.”
     “It’s not a sin to be a dummy,” said Cousin Satan.
     “No, really,” said Buffalo Chips.  “He’s...,” and he pointed to his head.  “You know.  Talk to him.”
     Cousin Satan looked skeptically at Buffalo Chips, and then at Yo.  “Okay,” he said.  He turned to Yo.  “Yo---,” he said.
     “Well, yo to you too,” said Yo.
     “No, I mean, that’s your name,” said Cousin Satan.
     “What’s that?” said Yo.
     “Yo,” said Cousin Satan.
     “Well, yo to you too,” said Yo.
     “No, I mean, that’s your name,” said Cousin Satan.
     “What’s that?” said Yo.
     “Yo,” said Cousin Satan.
     “Well, yo to you too,” said Yo.
     “No, I mean, that’s your name,” said Cousin Satan.
     “What’s that?” said Yo.
     “Yo,” said Cousin Satan.
     “Well, yo to---”
     “Okay!  Okay!” yelled Cousin Satan.  “Maybe we can marinate him or something.  You pass.”
     And so it went.
     “What’s that I smell?” said Cousin Satan suddenly to his faithful three-headed hounds.  They sniffed the air too.
     “Is that boloney?” said Cousin Satan.
     His faithful three-headed hounds shook their heads no.
     “Is it pastrami?” said Cousin Satan.
     His faithful three-headed hounds shook their heads no.
     “Is it pepperoni?” said Cousin Satan.
     His faithful three-headed hounds shook their heads no.
     And then Homer appeared.
     “That’s it!” said Cousin Satan.  And then, “What’s this?”
     He watched Homer shambled fearlessly up to the gate.
     “Stop!” said Cousin Satan.  
     But Homer kept walking.
     “You can’t enter here!” said Cousin Satan commandingly.
     But Homer kept walking.
     “You’re already dead!  Alive!” yelled Cousin Satan frantically.  “Whatever.”
     And Homer just kept on walking.
     “Get him!” Cousin Satan called to his faithful three-headed hounds.
     And then the three-headed hounds bared their fangs and made terrible growls.
     And Homer looked up at them and smiled.
     And then just as quickly, the three-headed hounds stopped, closed their mouths, bowed their heads, whimpered, backed away, and cowered on the ground.
     “What!”  yelled Cousin Satan.
     And Homer looked up at Cousin Satan and smiled.
     “Oh no!” yelled Cousin Satan.  “Oh, no!”  And Cousin Satan backed away too in terror.  
     And Homer continued to walk in.
     “Oh!”  yelled Cousin Satan.  “Help!  Help!  He’s....he’s Nice!”
     And so Homer walked through the gates of Hell unchallenged.
     “I hate nice!” Cousin Satan yelled.


     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.



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

1 posted 2003-08-05 01:12 AM


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 08:40 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


Munda
Member Elite
since 1999-10-08
Posts 3544
The Hague, The Netherlands
3 posted 2003-09-06 05:50 AM


Can you tell I'm loving this tale?
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