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Saturday, January 5, 2013

Episode 3: The Colonel and the Alien



               After a few miles of prancing Ewan and The Deer are walking through the woods in the midst of a good conversation.  “You’re pretty good at that!  Much better than I thought you’d be.  You’re like one of those River Dance guys, except you move your arms like a ghost doing the moonwalk,” comments The Deer.
“Yeah, I’m a little surprised at my performance as well…  Now let us never speak of it again.  So where are we going again?” asks Ewan as he briskly changes the subject.
               “We’re going to The Outpost,” replies The Deer.
               “What’s ‘the outpost’?”
               “It’s an old, secret, military facility built back in the 50s to study all the extraterrestrial activity in these parts.”
               “Cool.  Are we going to be able to get in?”
               “Yeah, as far as we can tell it’s been abandoned for some time now.  There’s the entrance up ahead.”
               Ewan and The Deer walk through an open, chain-linked fence gate towards an old, tan building.  As they pass through Ewan notes the barbed wire atop the fence and looks around for the usual accompanying armed guards.  There’s no one around in sight, and it looks as if it’s been that way for awhile.
               They pass a couple more abandoned security check points and reach the façade of the old building and a massive, steel entrance door.  The steel is about four inches thick and looks like it belongs on a battleship.  The door is propped open with a rock though, and so Ewan and The Deer just walk right in without even breaking their stride.
               Past the door is a short hallway that opens up into a small office, much akin to a waiting room in a doctor’s office.  There are a few old chairs and a large, old, metal desk in one corner pushed out from the wall a few feet.
Sitting behind the desk leaning back in an old, reclining office chair is an older gentleman in his mid fifties dressed from head to toe in green, camouflaged, combat fatigues.  His hair is short, snowy-grey, and precisely groomed.  His feet are propped up on the desk in front of him, ankles crossed, so that his big, black, shiny combat boots are facing the door and anyone who enters the room, yet his gaze is intently fixed on an old World War II era pin-up magazine in his hands.  Opposite the desk is an old, 32” CRT Television on an old, metal shelf.  The channel is tuned to some twenty-hour hour news network.
The Deer comes to a halt in front of the man with Ewan to his right side, “Howdy, Colonel.  What’s the good word?”
Without looking up the man replies, "Before I joined the Service I was fired from a marketing job at a soda company when I referred to 'easy pour' bottles as 'slut' bottles."
“Good to know,” replies The Deer without missing a beat.  “I’m just stopping by to let you know we’re having another campfire party tonight and to show Ewan the alien.  I hope to see you there.”
The Colonel licks the tip of his finger and turns the page of his magazine.  He doesn’t reply.  Ewan looks at The Deer and shrugs his shoulders.
The Deer walks through the foyer into the continuation of the hallway and Ewan follows.  As they’re walking they pass some open doors leading into unused offices, “So what’s his deal?” asks Ewan.
“I’m not exactly sure as he never says.  My best guess is that at some point the secret program going on here was cancelled or shut down or something, and apparently he never got a copy of that memo.”
“Well, have you tried asking him?”
“As you just saw he’s not one for conversation.”
“Gotcha.  So what’s up with this alien then?  Is it like the ones that abducted me back in the forest?”
“See for yourself.  It’s usually hanging out the break room up ahead.”
“It’s just in there hanging out?  Why doesn’t it try to escape?”
“I don’t think it wants to leave.  You’ll see.  It’ll be like looking at the ‘what’s wrong with this picture’ in a Highlights magazine.”
They walk around the last corner at the end of the hallway and into a large, multi-purpose room that has been setup has a break room.  In fact, it looks like it was setup as a break room fifty years and hasn’t changed since.  The furniture is sturdy, functional, and very outdated.  There’s three old couches of varying lengths grouped in a C shape around an old television.  The upholstery on the couches is akin to burlap, and a dull orange color heavily faded from the sun.  The TV is one of those old TVs built-in to a wood enclosure to look like furniture.  Behind the TV in the back left corner is a green ping pong table and a pool table.  In the opposite far corner is a bookshelf with some old books and a few loose reading chairs, and a steel chin-up bar bolted to the wall.
“Look over there in the corner,” says The Deer.
“Ooh!  A buffet table with bagels and cereal!” says Ewan.  He quickly rushes over to the right to the near corner and tears into a little box of Count Chocula and a bagel.  “It’s all a little stale, but still good!”
“No, Einstein, the other corner.”
“The coat rack?” says Ewan, motioning his head towards the corner by the door behind The Deer.
“No, the other-other corner.”
“The corner with the bookshelf?”
“No, the corner with the alien.”
“Which one?”
“It’s the one with the alien.”
“Ohhhhhhhh.  Snap,” says Ewan, finally spying the alien next to the ping pong table.
The alien is about five feet tall, green, and pear shaped.  At the top of the pear are two small, friendly eyes flush with the skin that appears to have the consistency of Jello.  Its pear-shaped belly goes almost all the way down to the floor.  Protruding from underneath the floor are two fin shaped feet, also green.  Sticking out on each side of the torso is an arm about the length of a man’s, but with no elbows, wrists, or other visible joints.  There’s no visible mouth or nose.  “It kinda looks like a fat Gumby.  Or a green, Hershey’s Kiss candy with feet,” says Ewan.
“Yeah,” agrees The Deer.
“How does it go to the bathroom?” asks Ewan.
“How does it go to the bathroom?  That’s your first question??  You meet intelligent, alien life from another galaxy for the first time and your first question is how does it go to the bathroom?!”
“Well, yeah.  I mean, does it go #1 or #2?”
“It goes #3,” replies The Deer, frowning at Ewan’s question.
“What’s #3?”
“You’ll know when it happens.  Try to duck.”
“Why is it bobbing up and down like that?  Is it dancing?” asks Ewan, referring to how the alien is pulsing up and down about an inch or two like an Oompa-Loompa.
“Maybe?  It does that about eighty times a minute, so I think that's how it breathes and circulates whatever fluids it’s made of around its body.  I don’t think it has any bones.  Its whole body is as squishy as it looks.”
“Really?  Can I touch it?  It won’t get mad?”
“Does it look like it gets mad?”
“Nah, actually it’s kinda cute.”
“Sure, go for it.  It doesn’t care.”
Ewan walks up and gently pokes the side of the alien’s belly with two fingers, “Hehe!  It’s like a water bed!  Only my older brothers aren’t jumping on it and making me cry and pee myself.  Why is it holding a ping-pong paddle?” asks Ewan, notioning to the wooden paddle in The Alien’s left, fingerless hand.
“The Alien loves ping-pong.  It seems to be its most favorite thing in the world.”
“Bee-doo-bee-doo-boop?” says The Alien, perking up a bit at sound of the word “ping-pong”.
“Did it just talk?” asks Ewan.
“Yeah, it asked you if you want to play ping pong.”
“How do you know what it said?”
“Because that’s all it ever says, and it’s always holding a ping pong paddle.  And if you grab a ping pong ball and go to the other side of the ping pong table it will play you.”
“Oh reeeeeally?  I spent a lot of time in college playing ping pong.  My professors said that my time would have been better spent going to lecture and reading the material.  Well I certainly showed them!”
Ewan grabs a paddle and a ball from a nearby shelf and walks around to the other side of the table, “Okay, Al, you’re on.  I can call you Al, can’t I?  Great.  You serve.”  Ewan tosses the ball to him over the net and assumes his ready stance.  Al picks up the ball, bounces it once, and gingerly serves it over the net to Ewan, like a five year old serving to his older brother.
A bit surprised by this, Ewan hits it right back to him with a soft return.  Al returns the volley in suit.  Ewan hits it again, but slightly to the right this time.  Al goes up on his tippy-toes and slides to the left like an old, electric type writer when it hits the carriage return, and returns the volley.  Ewan hits it back to the other side of the table.  Again, Al goes up on his tippy toes and slides to the right, but just misses the chance to return.
“1-0!” yells Ewan.  “We’re playing to fifteen, right?”  No response from Al; just more bobbing up and down.  “Right.  Fifteen it is.  Okay, my serve.”
Play continues for a few minutes.  “10-0.  You ready?” asks Ewan.
Very nonchalantly, or at least as nonchalantly an alien can be, Al transfers the paddle from his left hand to his right.  Ewan serves and Al returns the serves with a shocking increase in speed.
“What was that??” exclaims Ewan.
“That was 10-1!” laughs The Deer.
“Pshaw.  Beginners luck.  Your serve, Al.”  Ewan bounces the ball over to him.  Al picks it up and gingerly serves it over the net.  Ewan lightly hits it back.  SMACK!  The balls whizzes by Ewan.
“10-2!” laughs The Deer.
“That was a fluke!  Won’t happen again.” insists Ewan.
Al serves, Ewan hits it back much harder, and Al sends another one whizzing off the table and just past his right ear.
“10-3!” shouts The Deer.
“A lucky shot!”
“10-4!”
“More luck!”
“10-5; ‘Don’t call it a comeback!  We’ve been back for years!!’”
Play continues for a few more minutes.
“10-10!” laughs The Deer.  He’s sitting on his hind legs now, holding his chest with his front hooves to try to stop from laughing so hard.”
“Why are you laughing like that??” says Ewan, starting to get a little annoyed at the situation.
“Because he’s hustling you!!  I mean, come on man!  How many ping pong playing aliens have you met that suck at the game?”
“Well this is the first one I’ve met, actually.”
“Fair enough.  Well how long do you think he’s been playing this game?”
“I’m not getting hustled.”
“Are you sure about that?  Do you want to make it interesting?”
“Sure.  How about twenty bucks says I win this game,” says Ewan, pulling out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and throwing it on the floor in front of The Deer.
The Deer reaches behind his back, pulls out a wallet, and does the same.  “You’re on!”
“I have a confession to make though,” says Ewan with a somber look on his face.
“What’s that?”
Ewan looks right at Al, drags his first two fingers across his eyes as if he were wearing a mask, and says, “I am also not left-handed,” and tosses the paddle to his right hand with a flourish.  Al serves and Ewan smacks it right back for a point.  “11-10!” shouts Ewan, looking at The Deer with an ear to ear grin.
“Well played, sir,” dryly replies The Deer.
Game play continues for a few more minutes.
“15-10!” shouts Ewan triumphantly.  He walks over and scoops up the pile of money, “Domino, beeyotch!”
“Yeah, yeah.  Good job.”
Ewan turns to Al and holds up his hand to give him a hi-five, “Hey, good game, Al.  You had me worried there for a bit.”  Al remains motionless except for his usual bobbing, and so Ewan puts his hand down.
“Bee-doo-bee-doo-boop?” replies Al.
“What?”
“He wants a rematch,” interjects The Deer.
“How do you know that’s what he said?”
“Well literally he asked if you want to play pong, which in this context I’m assuming means he wants a rematch.”
“Sure, why not.  Let’s call it best two out of three, double or nothing?”
“I’m game,” says The Deer, pulling out another twenty from his wallet.
“It’s a bet then,” says Ewan, dropping another twenty on the pile.  He walks back over to the ping pong table and bounces the ball a couple times.  “Okay, this time I get the starting serve now that I know this isn’t your first rodeo.”  Al looks back at him blankly, bouncing up and down as usual, ping pong paddle in his right hand.  “Are you ready?” asks Ewan.
Al very nonchalantly reaches his left hand behind his back and pulls out another ping pong paddle.
“Oh, what is that?!  Two paddles?!  I don’t know which planet’s rules this guy is playing by, but it isn’t ours!” exclaims Ewan.
The Deer laughs, “A bet is a bet, buddy!  Or do you want to back out?”
Ewan puffs up his chest a bit, “You know what?  I got this.  Game on.  Zero serving zero.”
Several minutes of frantic game play ensue.  Al doesn’t shuffle from left to right as he did before.  Instead, his arms stretch to get the paddle on that side where it needs to be to return the volley.  In the end though, it’s not enough.
“15-13!  That’s game!  Whew!” pants a now sweaty Ewan.  “Good game, buddy,” he says to Al.  “Give me a hi-five.”  Al looks at him with the same expression, bobbing up and down.  Ewan reaches down and holds up one of Al’s hands and gives it a good slap.  “Hi-five!  Alright!  Good game.”
“Bee-doo-bee-doo-boop?”
“Oh, you want some more of this?  I don’t know, I beat you pretty good last time.  And now I’m in the zone.”
“Play him again.  Give me one last chance to win my money back,” pleads The Deer.
“Well I’d love to take more of your money, except I’m out of cash.”
“Okay, how about something else then?  I’ll raise you a pizza and some beer.”
“That’ll probably work.  Let me check something real quick first…”  Ewan walks around behind Al.
“What are you looking for?”
“I’m just making sure that he doesn’t have any more paddles or anything else hidden behind his back.”
“Gotcha.”
“Okay, you’re on.  Are you ready, Al?”
Al bounces up and down for a few seconds, then reaches both arms behind his back.  He pulls them forward again and reveals the same two paddles he was using earlier.
“Hah-hah.  Very funny, mister,” answers Ewan.
Very nonchalantly Al pulls two more arms forward from behind his back, complete with a second pair of paddles and a second ball.
“Aww crap.”
“I like my pizza with pepperoni and mushrooms,” grins The Deer.




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 Next episode: The Colonel and the Alien
Previous episode: Ewan and the Deer

1 comment:

  1. LOL! I am thoroughly enjoying each installment. Very fun :)

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