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


0 posted 2003-07-30 04:18 AM



Cool Universe
by
mirror man

Chapter 20



     The next morning was Christmas.
     Abnorman was the first one up.  He was so excited he could hardly sleep all night, and as soon as it was light outside, he jumped out of bed and ran to the front room.  Then he turned on the record player, and played a dysfunctional Christmas album.
     Dysfunctional Christmas albums were a tradition at Abnorman’s house.  Unlike other Christmas albums, dysfunctional Christmas albums were sold almost exclusively at rummage sales.  They sold for a nickel or a dime, a quarter at the most, and their covers were scuffed and dirty, and the record surface was usually scratched or warped.  This gave the sound a definite patina of crackles, hiccups, and background hiss that only a truly dysfunctional Christmas album could have.
     Also, they were never the product of any one artist, but the combined effort of a group of ten or twelve, some who could sing, some who couldn’t, and some who not only could sing but were known dysfunctionals themselves.  Thus everyone could hum along with alcoholics, drug addicts, mama cool batterers, and antisocial psychopaths, along with perfectly respectable bad singers, and never know, or have to explain, the difference.  Nothing sounded as Christmassy to Abnorman as a
dysfunctional Christmas album.
     Then, when the record was playing full blast, he turned on the Christmas Tree and inspected all the lights.  There were greenish blue, bluish green, muddy red, unnatural orange, and vomit yellow.  Most of them had bad spots where the paint had flecked off, and some even blinked with a pop and a crackle.  On top of the tree was a lone bedraggled angel with a dirty gown, a bent halo, and moldy wings plastered to her back.  It was beautiful.
     Then he went out to the kitchen and hauled out the Christmas food.  Mama Cool had made green Christmas ham and red chicken cookies the night before.  There were also mush pudding and candied turnips, and the ham was even stuffed.  All very cool.
     But when he came to the eggnog, it was still in its carton.  Nothing cool about that at all.  And he wanted this to be the best, nicest, most coolest Christmas ever.  So he said to himself, “What can I do that would be all that and more?”
     He went over everything he had learned about being nice and cool.  Then he saw the jug of copasetic aid and he said, “That’s cool.”  So he poured copasetic aid in the eggnog.  And it didn’t taste that bad.  So it was nicely cool also.
     “Oh, this is gonna be great,” he said.
     He set the dining room table for three, and then went out and set the kitchen table for Too Cool and himself.  Then he went out to the front room and waited.
     And so it was in this special mood of cool food and dysfunctional music that Daddyo, Mama Cool, Maximum Cool, and Too Cool all came out, one by one, yawning, stretching, and rubbing their eyes in their pajamas -- Mama Cool in her robe -- and all holding their hands over their ears.
     “Oh, what’s that sound?” said Daddyo.
     “What’s that sound?” said Mama Cool.
     “What’s that sound?” said Maximum Cool.
     “Merry Christmas!” Abnorman yelled, jumping up and down.
     They all stared at Abnorman, and he quit jumping.
     “What’s that awful noise?” said Too Cool.
     Abnorman looked at them, still smiling, and said, “That’s Spike Sonnes, your favorite.”
     “Bonk!  Crash!  Boing!  Whoop, whoop!” said the Spike Sonnes Dysfunctional Orchestra.
     “Oh, somebody turn it off, please,” said Daddyo.
     “But...but it’s your favorite,” said Abnorman.
     “I will,” said Too Cool, and he walked over to the record player and turned off Spike Sonnes.
     Abnorman looked at Too Cool and then scratched his head and said, “Well, that’s okay.  We have other Christmas albums.  How about Jim Nasal?”
     “Jim Nasal?” said Mama Cool.
     “Sure,” said Abnorman.  “He’s your favorite.”  He put on Jim Nasal, and Jim began singing.
     “That’s my favorite?” said Mama Cool.
     “Sure,” said Abnorman.
     Mama Cool smiled, walked over, turned it off, and said with embarrassment, “Maybe later.”
     Abnorman looked at her, puzzled, and said, “Well, that’s okay.  There’s lots of others.”
     “Do you want to listen to them sing?” said Mama Cool.
     Everybody stared at Abnorman.
     “Well...uh...no,” said Abnorman uncertainly.
     “Then why do you want to play their records?” said Mama Cool.
     “Well...uh...bcause,” said Abnorman.  He looked around at everybody uncertainly.  “Because,” he said.  He hadn’t really thought about it.
     “Got any Barry Coma?” said Daddyo.  “Now there’s a guy that can sing.”
     “No,” said Abnorman.
     “How about the Norman Tabernacle Choir?” said Maximum Cool.
     “No,” said Abnorman.  “Those cost money.”
     Daddyo went over and looked through all the albums.  “Well, never mind,” he said apologetically.  “I see we’re embarrassing Abnorman.”
     Everyone looked at Abnorman again.  He didn’t feel embarrassed.  He felt strange.
     “I know,” said Mama Cool.  “Let’s all sing carols.”
     “Excellent idea,” said Daddyo.
     “Yes,” said Maximum Cool.
     “Can we sing ‘Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore’?” said Too Cool eagerly.
     “No!” said Abnorman.  He looked around frantically, and said, “Let’s eat.”
     “Good idea,” said Daddyo.  “I bet we’re all hungry.”
     So they all trooped out to the dining room, and Abnorman went out to the kitchen and sat down.

     Everyone looked at Abnorman.
     “What are you doing out there?” said Mama Cool.
     “Well...uh...it’s breakfast,” said Abnorman.
     “Out there?” said Mama Cool.
     “Oh no,” said Abnorman pointing to the dining room table.  “You sit out there.”
     “Then why are you sitting in the kitchen?” said Mama Cool.
     “This is where I always sit,” said Abnorman.
     “Don’t you want to eat with us?” said Daddyo.
     “Well...yeah,” said Abnorman.
     “Then come out and eat with us,” said Daddyo.
     Abnorman looked at everyone, scratched his head, and said, “Okay.”
     “And bring your plate,” said Mama Cool.
     “Let me help you,” said Too Cool and Maximum Cool.
     Abnorman watched in total amazement as Too Cool and Maximum Cool came out to the kitchen and helped move the plates and silverware and all the food out to the dining room table.  Something was definitely wrong.
     When they got out to the dining room, everyone sat down and smiled at everyone else and Daddyo said, “What’s for breakfast?”
     Mama Cool looked at the ham and said, “Ham...I think.  How’d it get green?”
     “You made it that way,” said Abnorman.
     “I did?” said Mama Cool.
     “Sure,” said Abnorman.  “You make green ham every Christmas.”
     “I do?  It doesn’t look very healthy,” said Mama Cool.  “Ham shouldn’t be green.”
     “Well, it’s not really ham,” said Abnorman.  “It’s horse meat.”
     Everyone stared at the green horse meat.
     “Then why do you call it ham?” said Daddyo.
     “Because it sounds better than horse,” said Abnorman.
     “I should think you’d know the difference,” said Daddyo.
     “Oh, sure,” said Abnorman.  “You can hardly miss it.  I mean, you bring the dead horse into the kitchen and then Mama Cool chops it up....”
     Everybody was staring at him again.
     “You also made red chicken cookies,” said Abnorman helpfully.  He held up a red chicken cookie.
     Mama Cool stared at it.  “Red chicken cookies?”
     “Sure,” said Abnorman.
     “How’d I make cookies out of chicken?” said Mama Cool.
     “Well, it’s not really chicken,” said Abnorman.  “It’s cow hoofs.”
     “What’s this?” said Daddyo.
     “Plum pudding,” said Abnorman.  “Bit it’s not really plums.  It’s fried mush.”
     Daddyo frowned at it.
     “What are these?” said Maximum Cool.
     “Candied yams,” said Abnorman.  “But it’s not really yams.  It’s turnips.”
     “And what’s this?” said Too Cool.
     “Stuffing,” said Abnorman.  “Of course, it’s made with...um...whatever.”
     Mama Cool looked at it all, embarrassed, and said, “Why would I make such things?”
     “Uh...because it’s cheap?” said Abnorman.
     Then everybody looked at everything on all the plates in silence, and Daddyo said, “Maybe we should just open the presents.”
     So everyone walked out to the front room and sat down.

     Now this was more like it, Abnorman thought.  He looked under the Christmas tree and grabbed the biggest box he could find and pulled it out.  He eagerly read the tag, hoping to see “To Abnorman,” being as how he had been an especially good pseudo-progeny/whatever that year -- the better the bigger, as the saying went -- but instead, it said “To Daddyo, from Mama Cool.”
     “Here,” said Abnorman, handing it to Daddyo.  “It’s for you.”
     “Thanks, son,” said Daddyo.
     Abnorman jumped.
     “Did I say something wrong?” said Daddyo.
     “No,” said Abnorman uncertainly.
     Daddyo tore off the ribbon, and then the paper, opened the box and pulled out a new M203 assault rifle with night scope and grenade launcher.  “What’s this?” said Daddyo.
     “It’s a new assault rifle," said Abnorman.  "It’s what you wanted.  Mama Cool got it for you.”
     “I did?” said Daddyo.
     “I did?” said Mama Cool.
     “Sure...I think,” said Abnorman.
     “Why would I want such a thing?” said Daddyo.
     “Um...for nocturnal horse hunting?” said Abnorman.  
     Daddyo looked at it again, and then said to Mama Cool, “Well thank you anyway,” giving her a hug, “but I think it’s a little too dangerous to keep around the house.”
     “I agree,” said Mama Cool.  “I’ll return it.”
     “Good idea,” said Daddyo.
     Abnorman jumped again.
     “What else is there?” said Daddyo.
     Abnorman looked under the Christmas tree and pulled out another box.  This one was big also, but when he looked at the tag, it said, “To Mama Cool, from Daddyo.”
     “It’s for you, Mama Cool,” said Abnorman, handing it to Mama Cool.
     Mama Cool tore off the ribbon and paper, opened the box, and pulled out a brand new ironing board.
     Mama Cool looked at it uncertainly.
     “It’s from Daddyo,” said Abnorman.
     “Oh.  Well, it’s very nice, Daddyo,” said Mama Cool.
     Daddyo looked at the ironing board and said, “You’re welcome, of course.  But I think you should have had one a long time ago.  Tell you what, when you return my rifle, get that new dress you were looking at, and buy the kids all new bicycles.”
     “What?!” yelled Abnorman.
     Everyone stared at Abnorman.
     “That’s not what you’re supposed to say,” said Abnorman.
     “It’s not?”
     “No,” said Abnorman.  He looked at Daddyo.  “You’re supposed to say you got it so she doesn’t have to iron your shirts on the floor any more.”  And he turned to Mama Cool and said, “And you’re supposed to thank him.”
     Daddyo and Mama Cool looked at each other.  “That’s not very nice,” they said.
     “It’s not supposed to be nice,” said Abnorman.
     “Then what’s it supposed to be?” said Mama Cool.
     “Well...uh...well....”  He didn’t know.
     “Maybe you should open your present, son,” said Daddyo.
     Abnorman jumped again.
     “Did I say something wrong?” said Daddyo.
     “No...no,” said Abnorman.  He didn’t know what was going on, but opening his present did sound like a good idea, so he looked under the tree again, but there was just one box left, and the tag said “To Manuel, Chin Ho, Hadji, and Agnes.”
     Abnorman puzzled over the tag.
     “What’s it say?” said Daddyo.
     Abnorman read it to him.
     “Who’s that?” said Daddyo.
     “You don’t know?” said Abnorman.
     “No,” said Abnorman.
     Well, at least there was some good news.
     “Pull it out and open it up anyway, son,” said Daddyo.  “It must be for the kids.”
     Abnorman jumped again.
     “Here, let me help you,” said Too Cool and Maximum Cool.
     Too Cool and Maximum Cool pushed with Abnorman, but try as they might, it wouldn’t budge.
     “It’s too heavy,” said Abnorman.
     “Okay, everybody,” said Daddyo.  “Let’s all help Abnorman get it out from under the Christmas tree.”
     So that’s what they did.  Everyone gathered around, pulled, pushed, sweated, and grunted until they managed to haul their present out to the middle of the floor.
     They pulled the ribbon and paper off, and looked at it.  It was a wooden crate with the word SCRAP stenciled on the side.
     “What’s SCRAP?” said Abnorman.
     “Junk,” said Daddyo with a frown.
     Abnorman looked around the top.  There didn’t seem to be an opening.  “Someone gimme a crow bar,” said Abnorman.
     “A crow bar?” said Daddyo.  “Why would we have a crow bar laying around the house?”
     “To open up wooden crates full of junk,” said Abnorman.  This was getting to be to much.  Crow bars were very useful things.
     Abnorman frowned at everyone and then walked into his bedroom.  A minute later he came out with a crow bar and pried off the lid of his Christmas present.
     They all looked inside.  It was filled with strips of steel with holes drilled in them every inch or so, bolts, nuts, some chain link, and a rusty electric motor.
     “What is it?” said Abnorman.
     Daddyo looked at it closer.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “It looks like an old erector set someone threw out.”
     “That’s not very nice,” said Mama Cool.
     “No, it’s not,” said Daddyo.  “Well, I guess it must be our present to everyone else,” said Daddyo to Mama Cool.
     “It looks dangerous,” said Mama Cool.  “Someone might hurt themselves on it.”
     “That’s okay,” said Abnorman.  “I’m used to it.”  He put on a pair of heavy leather gloves and started pulling out pieces.
     “Here, let me help,” said Too Cool.
     “Me too,” said Maximum Cool.
     Abnorman frowned as everyone helped.
     “Mama Cool,” said Daddyo, “when you return my rifle, get a real erector set too.”
     “But then you won’t have any Christmas present,” said Mama Cool.
     “Oh, that’s okay,” said Daddyo.  “My present will be in the joy of giving.”
     Abnorman nearly jumped out of his socks.
     “Well, I did get you something,” said Mama Cool.  She reached down to the end table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a book.  
     “Here,” she said, handing it to Daddyo.  “It’s that new book on child psychology you’ve been looking at.  I knew you wanted it, so I went ahead and bought it.”
     “Well, thank you,” said Daddyo happily.  He opened it up and started reading.
     Abnorman’s jaw fell open.
     He didn’t know what to think, and after a while he calmed down and watched Too Cool and Maximum Cool pulling girders and bolts out of the wooden crate and laying them out on the floor in the dining room.
     Abnorman looked inside the crate, grabbed the instruction booklet and began reading.
     “What’s it say?” said Too Cool.
     Abnorman looked at Too Cool suspiciously and said, “Aren’t you going to argue with me about who gets to read the instruction booklet?”
     “No,” said Too Cool, puzzled.  “Why would I do that?  You’re my brother.”
     Abnorman jumped again and nearly dropped the instruction booklet.
     “Did I say something wrong?” said Too Cool.
     “No,” said Abnorman.  “Nothing.”
     “So what’s it say?” said Too Cool.
     Abnorman hurriedly looked through the instruction booklet and said, “It says we can make a battle ship.”
     Too Cool looked at all the junk lying around on the floor and said, “Maybe a small one.”
     “Also a Howitzer,” said Abnorman.
     “That sounds a little too destructive,” said Maximum Cool.  “What else?”
     “An ICBM with a MERV warhead,” said Abnorman.
     “An ICBM!” said Maximum Cool.
     “It’s just a fake,” said Abnorman.  He looked in the box.
     “What else?” said Maximum Cool.
     “A flame thrower,” said Abnorman.
     “A flame thrower!” said Too Cool.
     “Yeah,” said Abnorman happily.  “And it’s for real too.”
     “Oh, no,” said Maximum Cool, shaking his head.  “You could start a fire.”
     “Okay, okay,” Abnorman grumbled.  “Forget the flame thrower.”  He looked through the booklet some more and his eyes suddenly lit up.  “A ten megaton nuclear bomb!”
     “A bomb!” Maximum Cool and Too Cool screamed at once.
     “Yeah!” said Abnorman excitedly.  He looked in the box.  “We even got the plutonium.”
     “Good Lord!” said Maximum Cool.
     “Okay!  Okay!” said Abnorman, throwing down the booklet angrily.  “What do you suggest?”
     Maximum Cool and Too Cool thought for a moment, and then Too Cool said, “I think we should make something for Daddyo, since he didn’t get a present.”
     “What!?” said Abnorman.
     “Good idea,” said Maximum Cool.  “Something he can use around the house, maybe.  Or in the garden.”
     “What!?” said Abnorman.
     “How about one of those garden tiller things we always see on TV all the time,” said Too Cool.
     “Yeah,” said Maximum Cool.  “Or maybe even a tractor.”
     “Yeah,” said Too Cool.  “And we could make all the attachments to go with it.”
     “Yeah,” said Maximum Cool.  “And it could run on hydrogen, so it wouldn’t make all those nasty fumes.”
     “What?!  What?!” said Abnorman.  He began jumping up and down.
     They both stared at Abnorman.
     “This isn’t Daddyo’s Christmas present, it’s ours!” said Abnorman.  “We’re supposed to make something out of it for ourselves!”
     “But Daddyo just said he was going to buy us a real erector set,” said Maximum Cool.
     “And all new bicycles,” said Too Cool.
     “You don’t really believe that, do you?” said Abnorman.  “Yesterday, he was telling us you were a Chinese beggar,” he said, pointing at Too Cool, “and he said you were Siamese twins,” he pointed at Maximum Cool.
     Too Cool and Maximum Cool looked at each other.  “He wouldn’t do a thing like that,” they said.
     “And if we don’t make something useful out of it, it’ll just go in the junk,” said Maximum Cool.
     Abnorman threw off is gloves and started waving his arms in the air, running in circles.  “What’s wrong with everybody!?” he yelled.
     Everybody stared at Abnorman.
     “I don’t believe this,” said Abnorman.  “You don’t like the music, you don’t like the food, you don’t like the presents, nobody whines, nobody complains, and now you’re trying to help each other.  What’s going on!!!”
     There was a long silence, and then Mama Cool said, “Do you like the music?”
     Abnorman had to think about this.  “No,” he said finally.
     “Do you like the food?” said Mama Cool.
     “No,” said Abnorman definitely.
     “Do you like the presents?” said Mama Cool.
     “No,” said Abnorman reluctantly.
     “Then what do you like?” said Mama Cool.
     Abnorman looked around silently at everyone and didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what he liked, and he didn’t know what to think.  
     Finally, he scowled at everyone and said, “I’m going to watch Mr. Twiddly.”  And he stomped out to the TV in the front room.


     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 (07-30-2003 04:36 AM).]

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

1 posted 2003-08-05 01:23 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 08:50 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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