Last Update: 6/6/10
A sand yellow hanglider swooped over the hilly farmland of Petsylvania, a hot easterly breeze blowing on the face of the white fox clutching the bars below. The wind blew his ears back, the black tips wiggling in the air. He shifted his feet and tail, sedately angling the glider towards a clear, gentle looking spot in the distance.
A sudden wind caught the glider at a bad angle, and the glider went into a spin. He listed downward at an awkward angle, speeding to the ground at a rate faster than he wanted.
He twirled again, flipping over backwards. He screamed.
"Oh! Hello!" said a voice above him. "You look like you're having fun!"
The fox just screamed.
"Calm down!" said the voice. "You'll only increase the spinning and hurt yourself!" A moment later, he heard a loud "foosh" and a chinchilla with a rocketpack dropped into view.
"I can't control this thing!"
"Oh, can't is such a limiting word."
With a growl, the fox forced himself to flip over, putting the glider on top again. One of the wings snapped, flapping uselessly in the air above him. He resumed screaming.
"Dear, dear," said the chinchilla. "That thing is entirely inadequate for the task at hand."
Something latched onto the plastic frame, and the fox's descent slowed. Below, he could see a lake, surrounded by farms and ranch style houses. A new looking cel phone tower stood in the distance.
"And here you are!" The chinchilla let go of him only a foot below where the rooflines ended. The fox let out a shout and he hurtled toward a grassy mound, about a hundred yards from shore.
Bang! The next second, he hit it, rolling head over tail across the dirt and weeds. The frame bent and snapped, the stretched nylon ripping to shreds.
He rolled to a stop in front of a run down looking white building at the edge of the lake. A wood sign above the door read `Roocat's Electric,' and a bunch of farm machinery and appliances had been piled up outside the door.
The fox brushed himself off, staring at the cluster of legless fluffballs scurrying around the yard.
"Wow!" said a voice coming from the doorway. "This is exactly why I'd never be caught dead on one of those things." A bizarre looking creature with a cat's head and a kangaroo body came hopping out. "Gad-zooks! Are you all right?"
"Uh, yeah," said the fox. "I'm just a little bruised."
"Well that's good. The hospital isn't exactly close."
"Who are you?"
"Introductions! You can call me Enn. What's your name?"
"Hissori Sadame. It means Silent Fate."
"No offense, but I like Silent a lot better than Saddam." The creature dug in its pouch, taking out a capacitor. It dropped it in the pocket of its plaid shirt. "Well, I'd invite you inside, but the shop's a complete mess. You want a soda?"
Silent shrugged. "Okay."
The roocat hopped into the building. Having nothing better to do, silent stared at the fence surrounding the property. Someone had strung a long wire through it for some reason.
One of the hairball things brushed up against his leg, making funny noises. It reminded him of a tribble from that one TV show.
"It's a good thing you dropped in when you did! I've got a package with your name on it." The roocat handed him an orange soda and a brown package with a return address that said "Akktri".
Silent ripped it open. Inside, he found an antique six shooter with a corroded, unmovable chamber, a valid voucher for free lightsaber shaped faucet handles, a silver egg shaped device resembling a gun, and a stack of papers.
He read the first sheet.
Dear Hissori,
Welcome to Gardenia. I heard from Doctor Wolf that you would be flying through Laurel Lake, so I thought I'd send you this package five business days in advance. I've enclosed a few things you might find useful for whatever journey you decide to take (if nothing else, you can sell them), and a survey to make sure your journey is as fun as possible. Please fill it out and give it to my friend Enn to e-mail back.*
Silent took the attached pencil, scribbling down his answers.
The roocat took the papers, flipping through them. "Technical manuals, eh? I've got a pile of them by the wood stove. If you're that desperate for sleep, you can help yourself!" He scanned down.
"Personally, I like clean ones. The text is hard to make out on dirty pages!"
One of the Tribbles let out a noisy squeak, as if to provide the standard comedic rimshot.
"`What kind of movies do you like?' I like the same thing as the buyer of the ticket!" The Tribble purred. "And judging by the blank, you must like the same."
He folded the page over. "`Do you like gambling?' Not as much as hopping. Im a `roo, not a lamb!"
Squeak!
"`What is your opinion about Pokemon?'" Glancing sideways, he said, "They are teriffic and
wonderful! Oh- hi, MewTwo.. Really, I do!"
The fox looked around, but didn't see a Mewwie anywhere.
"`Do you like fishing?' Not so much. I prefer to ask direct questions."
Purrrr!
"`Do you like to cook?' Not really. That's why I cut my fur short in summer!"
Squeak!
"`The Brotherhood of Cordero... want to join?' Not if they're devoted to cordoroy. Nasty stuf; it makes too much noise when I hop!" Enn cleared its throat. "Well! These seem to be in order. I'll make sure Akktri gets it." He dropped the papers into his pouch. "Now, I've got a tractor motor to fix, so if you want to be bored to tears, you can come in and watch me. Either that, or I've got some train schedules and a map, so you can probably figure things out from there." Enn gestured to a rusting green Chevy with flat tires. "As you can probably tell by the cobwebs, that car over there isn't usable. You'll probably have to walk to the city to find a train."
Silent followed the roocat through the doorway, entering a shoddily constructed workshop crowded with machinery, tools, and scores of parts and objects he couldn't identify. They lay in boxes, cubbyholes, weighed down shelves, and practically covered every open surface.
A shortwave radio behind the desk crackled with static. "The value of the Gardenian pog has gone down in recent months. In these troubling times, you want to have something secure. Why not have gold? Unlike the pog, gold prices continue to skyrocket, despite the economic downturn..."
The fox glanced inside the boxes, staring at capacitors and circuit boards in bubble packages.
"The stove is back here."
Silent saw Enn gesturing to a crusty iron stove with a lopsided chimney pipe. To one side, behind a litter box, sat some plain looking white manuals, and piles of Scratchtower magazines declaring the end was near. Grabbing a couple books, he marched out the door, planning to climb into a tree and converse with Enn about the manuals.
He saw Enn lazily following him outside, stealing a glance at the book he grabbed. "That one? It's about How To Speak Gibberish, and never made any sense to me!"
"Oh! Then maybe I should grab another one."
Silent heard the honking of a fast-approaching flock of geese, the lead goose nodding downward right before a
course-correction. The roocat hopped for the safety of the shop. "I hope those 'bombers' don't have it in for you! They haven't forgiven me for the duct-tape goose decoy with the airhorn inside!"
The fox stared at him.
Quack!
Faint strains of Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries sounded from a radio somewhere inside the shop, something which seemed oddly appropriate.
The fox dove under the tree.
"I think we took a wrong turn at Saskatchewan!" shouted one of the birds.
"We're missing the playoffs!" shouted another.
"Let's go north, eh!"
The birds zoomed off, eliminating a potentially lame plotline.
Since the manual he had was gibberish, he walked back in, picking up a different one.
The roocat went back inside the shop to work, and he climbed up in the tree to read.
However, once outside he couldn't hear much of anything going on inside, so he returned to the workshop.
"Can't keep away, eh?" the roocat joked. "Well, find a spot and sit down if you want. I think that in and of itself will keep you busy for awhile."
While Enn attacked a motor with a wrench, Silent stared at a bench covered with screws, soldering irons, screwdrivers, ratchet sets and assorted debris.
"Bonjowsa," said a gutteral voice on the radio. "Dis is Ollie from Ollie's Cajon Shack in Cheesetown! You wanna have sumpin spicy? C'mon in! You want sumpin tasty? C'mon in! You want kosha? I gots a rabbit-nickel certify! Yum, yum! Come get yo cajon today! It mighty fine, I garontee!"
The fox picked up a hammer.
"Just push it into a box," said Enn.
With a shrug, Silent pushed the whole mess into a box.
"No! Not that box! That's for Farmer Maggot! (Though I'm not quite sure what he was prior to that!)"
A Tribble poked out of the box. Squeak!
Silent took the hammer, placing it in another box.
"That's for Farmer Gamgee."
He tried the next.
"I...don't know what that is."
So Silent transferred the items that he could find into that one. Then he sat on the bench, flipping through the manual.
Congratulations! You have just purchased a Hennington and Filibuster T83-970.
Bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla
Sincerely,
The President...
...s Form Letter Writing Committee.
He turned the next page.
To activate your T83-970,
spin Rotator A in a circle for 5 minutes. Insert ROD Z into Slot B, being careful to connect Cable X into Socket Q. Diode should light up. If it does not, spin rotator for another 3 minutes and prime.
Japanese instructions:
Hey! Why you need read manual! T83-970 easy to use! If you don't know, you are stupid and should leave to pro!
"You're listening to the fusion of ignorance and incompetence! This is...The Muttonchop Program."
"Ohhhnooooh!" said a gruff male voice. "And we're back from the break. We were just discussing this recent lawsuit at Telecorp that made national news..."
Silent heard papers ruffling.
"Okay, never mind. We don't have that story. The...dog ate it."
"You are a dog," said a squawky voice.
"I know, I know! I ate it, okay? I was hungry!"
Silent shook his head, continuing to pore over the booklet.
"Finding anything exciting in those?" Enn asked.
The fox shrugged.
"If you do, I'll give you some new ones to read. That could save me some time!"
"Well," said the voice on the radio. "Since I ate the last story, let's talk about that giant blob that's attacking swimmers and animals along the shoreline. (Sigh). Let me ask you a question. Do you really want to hear about this again? We all know who's at fault, but the simple fact of the matter is, it was a scientific experiment that went awry. They were trying to come up with an alternative to regular fossil fuels, and bam, something happened. End of story. We all know it's a mess, it's impossible to clean up, but they're trying. Can we please move on? Hold on, we've got a caller."
Enn changed the channel to a classic rock station. "I've already heard this one this morning. You're probably bored enough with those manuals."
Silent noticed something gray poking out of one of the boxes. He tugged on it and discovered it to be a silver-gray strap connected to a couple white cylinders with fins sticking out of the sides.
"Oh! You found my rocket belt. It's got a few problems, but if you want a quick ride to the city, there you go. I can fix it for you." He shrugged, gesturing to the motor. "Unless you want to fall asleep watching me refit this thing with a rotator belt." He undid some bolts. "Or you can evict the chickens and shove the Chevy to town."
The roocat grinned in a profit-motivated way. "However, if you have some spare UPC codes or coupons for lightsabre-shaped faucet handles, I might be purr-suaded," He petted a nearby pseudoTribble, Enncouraging it to provide the
sound-effect -and serve as a claw-polisher. "To repair your hang-glider! Course we'd have to launch it somehow...Or maybe I could trade a bunch of these..." He hoisted the pseudo Tribble. "For it instead! These little scamps are stronger than they look. You know, one time I was snoozing on the lawn and woke up in the lake? S'true!" The roocat stared at the fox. "Can you also use a surfboard? If they like you, they might do the sa.. I mean, get together under a plank and carry you to town!"
"I...think I'll push the car into town," said Silent.
"Right! I'll just hand you the title and...wait a second!" Enn hopped to the 1970's style cash register at the end of the desk, typing something. A dot matrix printer started up, rattling out a yellow perforated sheet. Ripping it off the ream, the roocat grabbed a pen, offering both to the fox.
"This agreement says you owe me $100.00 pogs for the car. Sign the bottom and the title is yours. (I'm practically giving it away. Do you know how easy it is to get 100 pogs?)"
"Uhh, let me think about it," the fox replied. "Right now I think I'll walk to town."
"Suit yourself! Personally I would have tried the surfing idea (or fixing the gas powered bicycle!), but there's nothing wrong with a little exercise!"
Silent gathered his things, walking out the door. Passing the fence, he crossed a field, coming to a wide rural road leading up a hill. Green fields framed the road on either side, surrounded by thick woods, with not a building in sight.
"Town is that way!" he heard Enn shouting from the door.
He turned around to see the roocat pointing up the hill.
"Thanks!"
Silent marched that way, staring into the trees. He passed a mailbox, a tiny wooden shed, and lots of trees.
A semi with a huge picture of a lamp on its trailer zoomed by on the left side, making him instinctively scamper further onto the shoulder. He crested the hill, and it dipped down at a steep angle. The trees crowded closer to the road, and he passed highway markers and a small one story house with a septic tank and a pickup parked out front. Lawn gnomes and wooden cutouts of animals bending over to show their polka dot bloomers dotted the clearing. And then he passed a field of neck high weeds.
After this, he found a big wooden sign reading "*BLANK* City Limits. Population 100."
He passed a yellow house with a swing set, then, after another highway marker, he found a cemetary, with a bowling alley across the road. A tour bus zipped past him.
The cemetary had a wrought iron fence, and the tombstones looked very old. Silent strolled past them, staring at the weird names carved on the weather beaten surfaces. Touch. Sayid. Periptery. Mugwort. Woodtick. Mercurial.
He reached the end of the fence, coming to a library, and a narrow street that intersected the wide road. On the corner he found a sign containing this map:
A strong wind blew through the fox's coat as he stared at the sign. A lightning bug buzzed across the plexiglass cover, but it wasn't dark enough to make it glow yet.
Silent stared at the map.
WELCOME TO [NAME HERE]
MAP OF BLANKTOWN
A cricket chirped behind him, but it didn't seem in the mood for conversation.
After reading the sign, Silent decided to investigate Fluffy's Entertainment. He strolled across a narrow street, passing by a small power station with transformers positioned at the corners of the structure. The smells of the Burrito Amigo across the street wafted through the air, mingling with the country fried smells of Kountry Chuck's Diner.
He felt something wet hit his face. Little dots appeared on the sidewalk. He increased his pace slightly.
Past the power station, on the right, he found a giant bronze bell on a pedestal. A plaque at the base said it was the Freedom Bell, which Gardenian soldiers used to ring to call the town of (NAME HERE) to arms, or to warn about the invading armies of Robin Redbreast in 1776. Behind this, he could see a sort of courthouse. Above the doorway, carved in stone, he saw the words, NAME HERE CITY HALL.
He thought he saw something glinting around the base of the pedestal, but wasn't sure. He shrugged and walked on.
Spat, spat. He heard more raindrops pit-pattering down. Not heavy yet, just slow and scattered.
Crossing another street, he came to a big chain supermarket with a large clock built on the roof. The light up sign read "MegaPossum Mart".
He heard a rumble. The raindrops pattered down with a more regular rhythm now.
After looking both ways for semis, the fox dashed across the wide middle street, walking past the hair salon that stood across from Burrito Amigo. The taco smell got stronger. Trying to ignore it, he walked on, passing a video store called Shout Outs. He saw a small school across the street to his left, and, directly ahead, across a wider street, he could see a hardware store and a motel. Around the corner of the Shout Outs, he found Fluffy's Entertainment, a store full of televisions, stereos and audio equipment.
Thunder boomed in the distance as the rain developed into a steady drizzle.
He stared through the glass window at the store's contents. Large screen LCD televisions, DVD players, VCR's, computers, video game consoles, rumble chairs, stands of all kinds.
Behind the counter, he could see a pink hairy one eyed creature with a fez. It gave him a close mouthed smile, waving at him with fat, lumpy fingers and a tentacle.
A sign at the door said, RELAX. I DON'T WANT TO EAT YOU. I JUST WANT YOU TO BUY AN APPLIANCE.
The monster flashed him a mouthful of jagged teeth.
A duck creature sat on the counter, sleeping contentedly.
A lhasa apso in a polka dot dress rubbed her muzzle as she stared at the price tag on a flat panel TV.
The rain had turned into a shower, dampening the fur on the top of the fox's head.
Not about to let rain force him into an entertainment store that looked less entertaining than described, he decided to keep looking around. He scratched his head, trying to remember the various locations on the map.
The rain became heavier.
As he tried to decide where to go, he noticed chattering behind him. He turned around saw a squirrel and a bird walking up the sidewalk with umbrellas in their paws. Though it was a bit hard to see through the rain, he could tell by the fancy dress suit that the bird was wealthy. The squirrel next to her seemed to be a male, and he had on a polo shirt and slacks.
"...I kept making gestures at her," the bird said. "End the call! Rhonda! End the call! But she didn't end the call! And that looney stayed on for another five minutes until we went to commercial!"
The squirrel laughed.
"So how was your day?"
"Oh, you know. Normal stuff. Selling gym contracts, that kind of thing. Some lady wanted to cancel her membership because animals didn't wipe the seats down. It got really ridiculous."
The fox felt really soggy now.
A strong westerly breeze blew the pouring rain into the fox's pelt.
As he stood there, staring at the strange but friendly pink monster in the store, a horse in baggy black pants and a rock t-shirt pushed open the door, clopping in to look around at the merchandise.
Not seeing anything of interest at Fluffy's, Silent got another idea. Turning around, he ran past the bird and squirrel, dashing around the corner of Shout Outs, where something gleamed in a gutter. WHOOSH! A burst of wind nearly knocked him off his feet. The trees in the distance swayed menacingly.
"Meowth!"
He looked up and saw a feline shape flying through the air, blown from a tree by forceful winds. He ran past the beauty shop, dashing across the street to the large megastore on the opposite side of the street. A semi honked at him as it rushed by behind him.
Eager to get out of the rain, he ran up to the brightly lit front entrance with its shiny automatic doors. Swatting away a cloud of gnats, he hopped onto the blue plastic floor mat near the shopping cart corral, shaking himself dry. His eyes caught a glimpse of something shiny in a nearby cart, but he ignored it, wandering up an aisle between a glass jewelry counter and a snack bar. Orange paneling and advertisements seemed to be the order of the day at MegaPossum Mart, the signs displaying sliced oranges with different prices on them, along with catchy slogans like "Sweet Deal!" and "Orange You Glad It's On Sale?" and "We're Slicing Our Prices!"
The strong wind made a hollow whistle through the industrial building, partially drowned out by elevator music.
He saw a giant hairy figure pushing a shopping cart past him. The apelike thing, covered in hair, apparently found something interesting in the lingerie section, staring at the silky nightgowns and rubbing its shaggy bearded face.
Just then, a spotted black and white mouse in an orange apron popped out from behind the jewelry counter. As Silent stared at him, the mouse waddled up, offering a paw.
Silent shook it.
"Hi! Welcome to MegaPossum mart! Can I help you with something?"
The fox rubbed his chin. "Um, not really. I was just looking."
The front door rattled noisily. The lights flickered for a moment before brightening back up again.
"Boy, that storm doesn't look good!" the mouse remarked. He straightened his apron. "My name is Cert. What's your name?"
"Silent."
Cert laughed. "Okay, Silent! Hee hee hee!" He stopped when Silent didn't laugh with him. "So...are you new to [Blanktown]?"
"Yeah, I just flew in a little while ago."
"I love flying!" Cert smiled. "...Except for the flying part." He chuckled again. "Listen, I'm tired of standing behind this jewelry counter. Nobody can see me except when I stand on a box anyway. Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you? I can give you a tour, and answer questions about the town, or tell you the history of MegaPossum mart, or whatever else you might want..."
Stunned with fright at the threat of the disaster outside, Silent merely stared at the door, watching as leaves and debris blew past amid showers of heavy rain.
THOOM! The automatic doors at the front exploded in a shower of broken glass, and he saw massive tree branches thick with wet leaves burst into the entryway.
"Zounds!" The mouse cried. "That's no good at all!"
A moment later, the lights all went out with a resounding sigh. All the cash registers chirped and turned dark.
Silent could just barely see the counters, the snack bar, and the mouse in the apron.
"Well! I shouldn't think we'll have much business now!" Sigh. "You think I should go home? Or should I just hang out in the break room until things get fixed?"
