City of IF

[The Powers That Be]

Once again, I expect this chapter will be extremely long by the time it's finished, so I figure I'll post it in segments. Here's part one:

“Rubber cement,” I said.

“Yes,” purred Trudy.

“Rubber cement.” It wasn’t sinking in.

“That’s right. Isn’t it amazing?” She squeezed my shoulders, hard.

“You want rubber cement. The whole galaxy. They want rubber cement.”

“More than anything else. And not just any rubber cement, Frank,” she whispered breathlessly. “Your rubber cement. They want the BrillCo 9000 All-Natural Non-Toxic Two-Coat Rubber Cement with the Lemon-Fresh Scent. In the 8 ounce can.”

She started stroking my hair. "Frank, do you realize that your rubber cement is the only known substance impervious to a Rogovian disruptor beam? The Groggnurs are ready to order enough to coat their entire fleet! But wait, it gets better. We’ve discovered the only projectile in the galaxy that can both penetrate the Groggnurian cement shield and damage their ships. And do you know what that projectile is, Frank?”

“Uh, no, Trudy. No I don’t.”

“Oh Frank,” she squealed, hugging me tight. “It’s your 8 ounce cans! Think of the possibilities!”

I pulled away then and turned around to look at her. I was going to tell her that I wouldn’t participate in anything so unethical as war profiteering, but I was immediately distracted by her face, made even more lovely by the flush in her cheeks. “Trudy, um, uh, what I mean is, er…”

She barely noticed my stammering in her growing excitement. “It just goes on and on, Frank. The starving Restocm in the Ewes sector want it for fertilizer: it makes the G’kzz plant grow to 12 times its normal size!"

She was up on her feet now. “The tiny Blektpinn people of Vurramukker can hibernate in it, and they’ll finally be safe from the Glumptious Thneewackers. Every hibernation cycle, thousands of sleeping Blektpinns get gobbled up, but no more. Rubber cement is invisible to Thneewackers! They’ll never find the little Blektpinns!”

At this point – I swear it on my mother’s grave – Trudy, who was already pacing around the room in her excitement, began doing something that looked suspiciously like hip-hop dancing. I was sure it was my imagination and was rubbing my eyes when suddenly she started rapping:

Rub it on a Corstee and his porvums will get bigger!
Feed it to a Ra-na-nam and watch her gain more vigor!
Cement sprayed on a Pixto’s wig will make it 10 times wigger,
And a Glumpet-Gun shoots straighter with it painted on the trigger!

The Chaulkners like to spill it ‘cause it’s so much fun to clean,
When mixed with Comgok urine, it’s a lovely shade of green!
Pour it on a Rromnogoggol from Rumni-13
And it makes so beneficial a mutation in her gene!

The Pulkas swear that having it around brings them good luck!
A Crink I know has said it ups the mileage of his truck!
The Hoola-Poolas think it helps their poolas come unstuck,
The Treek’na people love it ‘cause it makes them want to –

CRASH! Trudy had backflipped onto the half-finished coffee table, which collapsed under her weight, dumping her onto the floor and rudely interrupting her rap. I helped her up and then asked the question that had been forming in my mind. “So what does rubber cement do for your people?”

Trudy looked around and then leaned in close to me. In a conspiratorial whisper, she said “I haven’t tried it, but apparently when mixed into our queeq-na, it has a strong intoxicating effect on us. Don’t tell Rudy or the kids – I don’t want the girls fooling around with something like that, and I don’t trust Rudy to control himself around it. We’re going to be handling huge quantities of the stuff, after all.”

I said, “Ok, so how does this work?”

“Oh, it’s very simple for you, Frank. I’m prepared to give you a purchase order for your entire production capacity for the next month. We’ll pay your regular wholesale price.”

“Now wait a minute,” I said indignantly. “If the demand for rubber cement is so incredibly high, you should be willing to pay a lot more than that! What’s in it for me?”

“Oh, Frank,” she said, sidling up next to me and burying her hands in my hair. “Don’t be greedy. I promise, this is just the beginning. And right now, what’s in it for you is that you get to stay in business. Yes, I know about your financial difficulties. And besides, I already have a quote from your sales department, and it says that the price is guaranteed for 30 days. You’re not going to go back on that, are you? Frank, if things go well over the next month, this first order will just be a drop in the bucket. I promise.” With those last words, she kissed me, lightly, on the lips.

“Sleep on it, Frank,” she said, pulling away. “We’ll talk again in the morning, and then we’ll get you right back home where you belong. We’re going to be rich rich rich, Frank!” And she turned and left the room.

I stared after her for a few moments before eventually lying down on the mattress. I was sure I would never be able to sleep again, but almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I started dozing. I dreamed all night, sometimes of rubber cement and Twinkies, but mostly of Trudy and that kiss.

I awoke to the sounds of hammering. I looked up and was amazed at the transformation of my room. All the furniture was assembled perfectly. There was no sign of the chips or cracks I had seen on the various pieces the night before. Every piece looked like it looks in the Ikea store. I traced the source of the hammering: it was the little girl, Esmeralda, putting the final touches on the coffee table, the same coffee table that Trudy had broken during her mad break-dance. The table showed no hint of damage now, though.

Esmeralda saw me, smiled, and said “Good morning, Mr. Human Person. Please tell Daddy that you did all this – I think he’d be embarrassed if he knew it was me.” She looked around the perfectly-arranged room, nodded, and danced away, giving me a wave as she left the room.

I decided to explore the rest of the ship, but just as I was about to step through the doorway, Rudy stepped in. “Good morning, Mr. Brill! I hope you slept well. Trudy didn’t bore you too much, I trust? Good. My, but you’ve done a wonderful job with this furniture. The place looks marvelous! You must teach me your secret sometime.

“Anyway,” he went on, “we should really be getting you back home. I have here a purchase order for 30,000 gallons of BrillCo 9000 Rubber Cement, at $2.29 per 8 ounce bottle, to be delivered in 30 days. Do we have a deal, Mr. Brill?”

Thirty thousand gallons. I couldn’t believe it. I quickly ran through some math in my head, and decided we could just about produce that much if I added a shift and ran production through weekends. This was almost 9 million dollars in sales – I’d never done that much business in a quarter, much less a month! If this all worked out, my factory and all the employees’ jobs were saved.

I didn’t know how I’d explain this to the accountant or production foreman, but I’d figure something out. “Yeah, sure, Rudy. We’ve got a deal.” I took the proffered PO with trembling fingers.

[WolfeBane]

Another Funny chapter, i like the rap! What size is you lettering small, large, ting what? Ant ways whens the next one!

[Muaddib]

You've managed to keep up the tempo!

[Reiso]

I love the rap thing - much better done here than I have seen elsewhere. It didn't feel 'gimmicky' or anything, and I especially like the tongue-in-cheeck sneak past the 'censors' at its end; excellent use of timing.

Randomly, I don't know why, but the character of Rudy strongly reminds of me John Astin (I'm much better, now).

One of the things about humor is that it is so much harder to maintain than more serious forms of fiction. It always has to be funny, the same kind of funny, just as funny, and non-stop funny. I am glad to see that this storygame is staying fresh and avoiding any pitfalls so far.

[ethereal_fauna]

WolfeBane wrote: Another Funny chapter, i like the rap! What size is you lettering small, large, ting what? Ant ways whens the next one!
His font size=14. It is not listed as either small, normal, huge, etc. You can read more about sizing your text on this topic.

Excellent first half to this chapter, Powers. Funny stuff, and gave me a good laugh this morning. :P

[Smee]

Hey Powers,

Gave me a good laugh as well - I chose a good time to find your story last night - I got a new chapter the next morning :-)

I look forward to part 2, and the promised important decision point :p

Happy Writing.

[Araex]

Can't wait for the important decision! Loved the rap, and the pace and timing and everything. Esmerelda I feel is gonna be a big character later on... I know it

[Mother Goose]

I'd given up on reading new stories, since I can't keep up with the old ones, but I'm so glad somebody reads and votes on them to bring them to my attention! This is wonderful!

And to you authors of the stories I've been following, I love you too, but my ideas for comments seem to have dried up lately as I get pressed for time. I'll hang in there enjoying everybody else's ingenuity until inspiration strikes.

[Idea master]

Another hilarious chapter!
Personally, I think that the factory should have been repossesed in the time it takes for Frank to get there. So he'll be in even more of a sticky situation.

[Sorrow_A]

Wait a minute. If only huge, rich, powerful corporations can afford to enslave entire planets, then won't the family of...twinkie-thingies become a huge, rich powerful corporation? And in that case, they would be able to afford enslaving the earth, and then, they could force 6 billion people to make rubber cement all day long!!!

Sorry, I guess I'm kind of in to mass, evil conspiracy theories. :shock:

[Araex]

liking those last two ideas!

[Chainfire]

another lovely job powers, I can't wait for the second half. this story is funny I always love a good comedy/sci-fi story. :twisted:

[D-Lotus]

Great story. Isn't it Esmeralda, by the way? Say NO to the aliens, tell them to leave you alone. (just another option)

[The Powers That Be]

D-Lotus wrote: Great story. Isn't it Esmeralda, by the way?

Hey, nobody said that aliens could spell. :D

Ack, though, you're right. I'll fix it - thanks for the catch.

[D-Lotus]

Glad to know that living in Spain my whole life came into good use there. :cool:

[Merilly Dayzed]

Esmeralda is one of my favorite names, I'm surprised I didn't catch that. :D In any case, great start to the third chapter. I really dig it. I seriously laugh out loud several times with each chapter. Great work.

[Hyperion]

Hmm... Don't reposess poor Brill's factory... instead, make it that he gets so many orders he has to move to another planet in order for him to keep up... then make it that the aliens are forcing him to keep on taking the orders because they get 10% or something...

[D-Lotus]

Hyper, you don't tell the author what to write, you simply tell them what to do at the decision point and then vote!

Yes, I like helping! :D

[Hyperion]

Well, there is nothing to vote on, so I am telling them what to do at the decision point... :D

[Shady Stoat]

I LOVE this story - especially the hip-hop rhyme. My poetry sucks, so I never try to write it, but yours is grrrrreat :lol:

When's chapter 4 coming out?

[Muaddib]

It reminds me a LOOOOOOOTTTTTTT of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Same humourous, 'who gives a shit about humans' tone, same type of humour, protagonist is equally clueless....

Well any way the fact that its good is all that matters.

[The Powers That Be]

Hi everyone,

I want to apologize for the unforgivably long delay in getting Chapter 3, Pt. 2 posted. There are three reasons for the long wait:

1. Work and family have intervened over the last couple months.
2. I was trying to cram way too much material into this chapter. I'm trimming it down and pushing things out to later (which, storygames being what they are, may never get used).
3. It's just not funny enough yet.

I am working on it, and I hope to have it posted sometime next week. Thanks for your patience and the nice comments on the story so far.

[HarmonyFaith]

Can't wait!

[D-Lotus]

Yeah

[The Powers That Be]

All right, here's the rest of chapter 3, finally. And hey look! A decision point!

It was still before dawn when Rudy and Trudy dropped me off at my house (and I’ll tell you, riding that claw down was twice as scary as riding it up). I rushed inside, showered, changed and practically ran down Cedar to O’Malley’s to pick up my car. On the way, I found Chuck still sleeping peacefully by the side of the road. I nudged him awake.

“Hey, Frank!” Chuck said as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. “What happened to you last night? I had some crazy dream!”

“Uh, yeah, I bet you did – you were pretty drunk, and you fell asleep right here. I would have dragged you home, but you looked so peaceful lying there.”

“No problem, Frank,” Chuck waved away my apology. “This patch of grass right here is my favorite Friday night sleeping spot. But I guess last night wasn’t Friday, huh? Hmm. Listen, Frank, I may be calling in sick today – I, uh, feel something coming on.”

“Yeah, no problem, Chuck, just get home and get some rest.”

“All right! You are the greatest, man!” Chuck pulled me into an unexpected bear hug, and I nearly gagged on the smell of alcohol that still clung to him. Finally he released me and I continued on to my car. I was trembling with excitement as I drove to the factory.

I felt the usual twinge of pride as I turned into the drive and passed the BrillCo sign, with the company slogan, “We’re Rubber and We’re Glue, Stick with Us and We’ll Stretch for You!” (I came up with that one myself). The guard waved me through with a “Good morning, Mr. Brill” and I rolled into my parking spot by the main entrance. I marched in, clutching the PO in my trembling fist, and headed down the hall. I was the first one in the office. It would be a few hours before I could gather my senior staff to announce the good news. I opened up the office safe, put the PO inside (between the notebooks containing the secret recipes for our Lemon-Fresh Cement Scent and our Extra-Gooey Rubberized Slime) and went to my office. I glanced at the morning paper and chuckled – the big news of the day was that old Mrs. Schmuckler had gone missing again and her children were worried. No doubt she’d turn up in one of the two bars in town, and tomorrow’s paper would report that she had “no memory of entering the establishment or ordering the bottle of scotch that was found empty at her table.” Nothing much ever happens in this town – well, nothing much until now. I decided to try to get some work done.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself pacing, alternately fantasizing about Trudy and huge piles of money. Occasionally, I’d find Trudy hiding in the big piles of money. I shook myself out of my reverie, wiped the drool from my chin, and decided I had to get out. I went out behind the factory and started on the path that wound its way up Hidden Hill. I figured a nice morning hike would clear my mind.

I reached the top of the hill and gazed over the town of Tadpole Hollow spread out below me. It was a beautiful spring morning. The just-risen sun was warm on my face, but the light breeze kept me comfortable. Looking west, a hint of dark cloud was barely visible on the horizon, carrying the suggestion of an late-afternoon thunderstorm. I could see the town square, where the farmer’s market was just being set up. Some early-rising kids were heading toward a distant field to play some ball before school. All in all, it was shaping up to be a perfect day.

I’ve lived in this town all my life and love my home more every year. That’s one reason this deal was so important to me, and why I was so willing to believe Rudy and Trudy. Tadpole Hollow has taken a lot of hits the last several years, and I wasn’t sure that it could survive losing BrillCo. From up here, I could see the husk of Bill Fogerty’s premium organic ice cream factory (you may remember it as “Farmer Billy’s Custard”) that had been the pride and joy of the community for so many years, until it was discovered that Farmer Billy was pumping effluent into Muckwater Swamp on the edge of his property. The EPA nearly shut him down until he made a deal to clean up the contaminated water. That’s when Billy had his stroke of genius: since they were cleaning the water anyway, why not latch onto the bottled water craze? Going straight after the disaffected youth market, they started bottling “MuckWater” with the slogan, “Straight from the swamp to you!” They even went so far as to add a little greenish-brown color to the water, to give it that authentic swampy look. Every 100th bottle had a little rubber frog in it (that was BrillCo rubber, another lost product line).

I chuckled at the memory, noting that the dark cloud was getting closer rather faster than I had expected. I figured I should get back down to the factory soon; my staff was probably starting to arrive.

MuckWater sold like hotcakes. Before long it was the best-selling drink among teens, outstripping Coke and Pepsi combined. Kids everywhere were slurping down filthy-looking water, usually making sure to do so in front of their parents and teachers. Farmer Billy, who’d gone from local hero to despised dumper, was lionized all over again. To great fanfare, he broke ground on a new MuckWater plant on the other side of the swamp. It was half-finished when the swamp dried up for good (Farmer Billy was never known for taking the long view). Billy tried to go on by coloring municipal tap water and selling that, but he ran afoul of truth in advertising laws (it wasn’t “straight from the swamp” any more, was it?), sales plummeted, and the company went belly-up. All that was left now were the decaying buildings and Muckwater Meadows, where the baseball game was just getting underway. I hated to think what would happen if BrillCo met the same fate.

I noticed the black cloud again – it was really moving very fast. It was just a single little cumulonimbus cloud, surrounded by clear blue sky. Most disturbing of all, it was headed my way and nearly upon me. I didn’t know what was happening, and didn’t really want to wait around to find out. I started back toward the path, but the cloud altered its trajectory and moved to intercept. Its shadow fell over me as it passed directly overhead and stopped. I was reminded of cartoon losers with their own personal little rainclouds. Sure enough, no sooner had I conjured that image when the cloud opened up and rain started falling. I held out my hand, suppressing an incredulous smile, and watched the rain splatter onto my palm.

Then I gasped in horror. Where the rain touched my palm, a wisp of smoke rose from me, and I saw that my skin in that spot had disappeared. I looked down and saw that bits of me (and my clothes) were disappearing into little trails of smoke everywhere that the rain touched me. I tried to run, but the cloud simply followed and stayed directly overhead as more and more of me dissolved away. Through the cloud of fog that surrounded me, I could vaguely see my bones and innards appear and then evaporate away. The fog thickened and I saw nothing more.

I felt something, though. I felt absolute bliss, total joy, an indescribably intense sense of well-being. I realized that I had died, and this was either Heaven, Nirvana, or both of them mixed together like the chocolate-swirl ice cream of happiness. If this was what eternity would be like, it was a pity I hadn’t killed myself long ago.

Alas, I was mistaken: I was not to remain in this euphoric state forever. Slowly, awareness of my body came back to me. I found myself once again surrounded by fog, but now it was thinning, adsorbing onto me and re-forming into my body. As my vision cleared, I looked around and found that I was inside some sort of glass tube. And I was tied to a chair.

Looking outside the tube, I saw that I was clearly out in space again. This time, there was no attempt to disguise anything – the chamber had the round windows and metal rungs and control panels that one expects to see in a spaceship. Additionally, it contained two aliens who had also made no attempt to disguise their nature. Below, they were a mass of tentacles that looked like nothing so much as a bowl of fried calamari. On top were their heads, which looked exactly, to the tiniest detail, like llama heads (I knew because when I was a boy, I used to spend miserable summers working on my uncle’s llama farm).

The glass tube opened, and the smaller alien wheeled me across the room. The larger one approached me then and spoke.

“Welcome, Mr. Brill. We hope your journey was not too unsettling,” said the creature in perfect English, apparently through some translation device, since the voice and the movements of its mouth didn’t match up.

“Uh…yeah,” I said hopefully. “Maybe if I did it again, you know, to get used to it.”

“Perhaps later, Mr. Brill,” said the creature, not noticing my crestfallen expression. “Right now, we have something to discuss with you. Tell us about the Rugelachs.”

“Uh…the rugelachs?”

“Yes! Don’t play dumb with me. I know you’ve had contact. Tell us about the Rugelachs!”

“Ok,” I replied, a bit perplexed. “It’s some kind of sour cream-based dough, and then you put in a nut filling and roll it up. Actually, I avoid contact with rugelachs. I’m allergic to the nuts.”

Thre creature turned to look at her colleague. “Mitzclom, are you sure there’s nothing wrong with the Dissolv-o-Porter? I believe we have scrambled Mr. Brill’s brains.”

“I have checked and rechecked the machine, your Exalted Omnipotence! But I am sure you must be correct, as you are infallible and most wise, and I will gladly eject myself into space for my error if you so request it!” groveled Mitzclom.

“No no,” the head monster said, waving her tentacle in Mitzclom’s direction while turning back to me. “The…Rugelachs…”, she continued (the translated voice was female, and that’s all I had to go on), speaking slowly and loudly as an Ugly American might speak to a foreign tourist. “You…met…with…them. What…did…they…want… from…you?”

The last bit of euphoria had faded from me and I was getting annoyed. “They…wanted… me…to…eat…them…” I said snidely. “But I wouldn’t. So there! Seriously, what the hell are you talking about?

“Is this translator working right? Mitzclom?” said the creature, banging the side of her mouth with her claw.

“Your humble servant was certain the translators were working properly, Clazpho…er, your Resplendent Monumentousness!” wheedled Mitzclom (in a male-sounding voice). “But I am sure you are right and I have grievously erred – you should undoubtedly flay my hide and dip my shredded and bleeding body in an acid bath!”

“Perhaps later. Now look, human, this…is a Rugelach,” said Clazpho, punching some buttons and twiddling a knob. Suddenly, an image appeared in the air in front of me, a picture of a big Twinkie-looking thing – it was Trudy, or some other of her kind. “Now tell me of your encounter with these aliens,” she continued.

I decided to play dumb. “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think you’ve got the wrong guy. But I’m curious: if that’s a Rugelach, what does that make you, a Hamentashen?”

Clazpho stared at me for a long moment and then turned very slowly toward Mitzclom, who immediately threw himself prostrate to the ground. “I have no memory of giving this information to the human, your Most Excellent Bodaciousness, but I must have done so nonetheless, and I am certain you should roast me on a spit until I am cooked to a nice golden brown. May I note, however, that this may explain yesterday’s encounter on Earth with the human female in the food shop…”

Clazpho cut him off. “She was a GCP spy, Mitzclom, trying to find us. There is no question!”

“Yes, of course you are right, O Clazpho the Colossal,” replied Mitzclom, nearly licking the floor with each word, “but when she said, ‘I do love the Rugelachs, but right now I’m looking for Hamentashen,’ I wonder if…”

“A spy, Mitzclom, nothing but a spy! We were right to capture her, and she will stay on our ship until I say we are done with her.”

Mitzclom began to beg for punishment again, but Clazpho had turned her attention back to me. “In the meantime, we have this human to deal with. And Mr. Brill is going to tell us what the Rugelachs have found. You know what to do, Mitzclom.” I didn’t like the sound of that, but I was determined not to tell the Hamentashen anything. I’ve always prided myself on my willpower, and I was ready to put it to the test.

As Mitzclom scurried out of the room, Clazpho picked up a large bowl that was sitting near her on a table. There was a clattering of metal as she rummaged through the bowl while walking over to me. I craned my neck to see what was in the bowl, and when I did, my heart sunk. It looked like the dental kit from hell. I saw serrated blades, sharp points, barbs, wire, and broken glass, all mixed in together. Eventually, Clazpho found what she was looking for and held it up, inches from my nose. The gleaming metal object looked like a cross between one of those rabbit corkscrews and a nutcracker. She paused for a moment, appraising it.

That was it for me. I cracked. I told her everything. I told her about Rudy, Trudy and the kids. I told her about the rubber cement, and the PO, and the deadline that the Rugelachs were under. I told her about my secret feelings for Trudy and about my fond memories of my old ’79 Trans Am.

The whole time, Clazpho just stood there, mouth slightly open, holding up that torture tool. Her paralysis just unnerved me all the more, and I racked my brain for more things to confess.

I told her about the time in 1st grade when I pulled on Peggy Paisley’s pigtails. I told her about the time in 10th grade when I pulled off Peggy Paisley’s panties. I told her about the time a few years ago when I staved off Peggy Paisley’s paternity suit. I told her about everything bad I’d ever done. Eventually, I ran out of things to say and fell silent.

There was a long pause. Finally, Clazpho said, “Huh. Well, that was easier than I expected.” Then she tossed the metal instrument into her mouth and started chewing. Holding the bowl out to me, she asked, “Hungry?”

“All right, Mr. Brill,” she continued, after I declined her offer. “Now we can get down to business.”

Just then Mitzclom reappeared, carrying a tray of what looked suspiciously like cookies and milk. “I have the materials, O Clazpho the …”

“That won’t be necessary, Mitzclom. Mr. Brill already decided to tell us what he knows.”

“This is marvelous! You are truly the Queen of Competent Coercion! I shall dispense with the instruments of torture at once,” said Mitzclom, turning on a dime and exiting again.

“Now, Mr. Brill,” said Clazpho, turning back to me. “If I understand it correctly, you have in your possession the prize of the galaxy, the biggest thing since sliced Homclarad, and for this, the Rugelach have offered you,” and here she smirked and shook her head, “your wholesale price? Does this really seem fair to you?

“It’s a big galaxy, Mr. Brill, and it’s going to need a lot of rubber cement. The output of your little factory will not be sufficient to meet that demand. I expect that within 5 of your years, the entire surface of your planet will be covered with rubber cement factories, each one pushing out product as fast as it can. And you’re giving that all away for a few measly dollars?

“I am prepared to make you a much better offer, Mr. Brill. I want you to work for me.”

“I don’t get it,” I said. “Trudy and Rudy…uh, the Rugelachs have the rights to this planet, right? And we’ve already agreed to terms. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stall, Mr. Brill. You have equipment problems, or you can’t get an ingredient in time. You don’t quite make the delivery date. The Rugelachs’ planetary claim expires – tough break – but luckily, I am here to file my claim the next day. You sell me your rubber cement and we’re off and running.”

Suddenly, I got it. Clazpho and Mitzclom were claim jumpers. “Now wait a minute, I’m an honest man. I couldn’t do that to the Rugelachs. What I’m getting at is, what’s in it for me?”

Clazpho laughed. “How would you like to rule the world, Mr. Brill? Someone will have to run things when the Earth is converted into a giant rubber cement factory. All I care about is the product – I don’t want to run the place. I want you to be the Governor of Earth, with complete authority over, well, everything (as long as product keeps shipping). And all you have to do for me is this one small thing. How does that sound?”

Well, this was a surprise. Governor of Earth. Absolute power. I had to admit, it had a nice ring to it. Then again, I had to remember that I was bargaining with a big llama-squid who had me tied to a chair. “What happens if I turn you down?”

“Oh, Mr. Brill, try not to focus on the negative. I’m offering you an incredible opportunity. I believe it would be…unwise of you to refuse.

“I’m going to give you some time to think about it, Mr. Brill. I have an errand to run. When I return, I will ask you for your answer. Mitzclom!”

Mitzclom scurried back into the room. “I apologize, your Magnanimous Magnificence, for not anticipating your need for me and appearing before you were forced to call out. I recommend that you cut my head off and nail it to a skateboard so I can reach you more rapidly!”

“Mitzclom,” said Clazpho, ignoring the bizarre request, “bring the prisoner. I have decided that the spy cannot harm us, despite the fact that she is most assuredly a spy! I shall wipe her memory and return her to the planet.”

Praising this decision to the heavens, Mitzclom ran off. He reappeared a moment later with poor old Mrs. Schmuckler, who was bedraggled and apparently in shock. When she saw me, however, she brightened and said, “Mr. Brill! Imagine seeing you here. What are you doing in my dream?”

I forced myself not to laugh, and replied, “Good morning, Mrs. Schmuckler. Don’t mind me – it’s almost time for you to wake up.”

“Oh good,” she said. “Well, perhaps I’ll see you later.”

“Enough, spy! No exchanging coded messages with our new business partner,” Clazpho cut in, grabbing Mrs. Schmuckler and pushing her into the Dissolv-o-Porter. “Mitzclom, send us down!”

“I am already doing so,” said Mitzclom. Sure enough, fog was already swirling around the two bodies as they dissipated. “Have a good trip, O Clazpho…” and, turning away from his master as she disappeared, he finished, “…the Giant Jackass!”

All right everyone, Frank has a couple of competing offers - and, of course, he's tied to a chair in an alien spaceship. What's he going to do next?

[DukeReg]

hahaha! I like it.

He should agree wholeheartedly with the new offer, being tied to a chair and all that. When safely on Earth, at the time when he is supposed to stall Trudy and Rudy, he can instead tell them about the abduction and beg them to protect him, since they are much nicer than the Calimari-Llama people, and probably safer to do business with over the long term.

[Muaddib]

He should haggle for King of the Earth

[Shady Stoat]

Frank thought quickly. He had to get out of this fix, and quick! Anyone who would start negotiations by clamping a guy to a chair obviously couldn’t be trusted with such vague promises as ‘Supreme Ruler of Earth’.

He turned to Mitzclom.

“So… Mitzclom, was it? What exactly are you getting out of this deal? Maybe five percent? Four? Am I heading in the right direction?”

He fixed the Hamentashen with what he hoped was a winning smile.

“How would you like to be your own boss?”

[ethereal_fauna]

I'm rather fond of the possibility of haggling for King of the Earth, although the idea of ruling an earth laden by factories and unhappy slave laborers appears likely.

Maybe I should contact the local KRPW 103.2 and tell the world my story. Warn them or something.

[D-Lotus]

I think we should prepare the batch of rubber cement anyway, later we can decide who to give it to. Right now just say yes to both, then sell it to both, and get double the profit as the demand increases.

[Key]

I'm with the Duke. The Twinkies are way nicer than these people. Play along, but once you get back tell Rudy and Trudy ASAP, and try to get their protection.

[Muaddib]

Yeah but the twinkies rule the planet.Earth for Humans!

[ethereal_fauna]

The twinkies may appear way nicer, but can you really trust a twinkie?

[Idea master]

*Runs off laughing so much that the men in white coats come to take him away, but he waves them off.*
Oh, that's a good one! Brilliant! Hilarious! And I loved how much Clazpho was feared and respected! "Flay my body and dip my bleeding corpse into a tub of acid!" "Decapitate me and nail my head to a board!" "Gladly eject myself into space!" "Roast me on a spit!"
Brilliant! Where DO you come up with this?
On second thought, don't anwser. That'd remove the mystery.
Anyway, exceed both of their demands! Make so much of the product that they are willing to fight each other for it, and then tell them to do so!
Whoever wins the battle wins earth as long as you may rule.

[D-Lotus]

Those twinkies are suspicious...But our heroe trusts them, so what he would do is tellthem.

[The Powers That Be]

Thanks for the feedback and ideas, everyone. A couple comments:

Idea Master wrote: Anyway, exceed both of their demands! Make so much of the product that they are willing to fight each other for it, and then tell them to do so!

I'm afraid, IM, that it's impossible to make any more of the product than the aliens already have - they already think it's the most important thing in the galaxy. Given that, what would you have him say or do right now?

Muaddib wrote: He should haggle for King of the Earth

Hmm, I'm not sure what's different between "King of the Earth" and "Governor of the Earth" - I'm sure they'd happily let him call himself anything he wants, as long as he keeps the rubber cement coming. Did you have something more specific in mind?

The other suggestions I have are "say yes, intending to double-cross Clazpho as soon as she releases me" and "try to bribe Mitzclom to help me get out of here".

I'll let the ideas flow for a few more days and try to get a poll up before next weekend. Keep 'em coming!

[Key]

The Powers That Be wrote: Idea Master wrote: Anyway, exceed both of their demands! Make so much of the product that they are willing to fight each other for it, and then tell them to do so!

I'm afraid, IM, that it's impossible to make any more of the product than the aliens already have - they already think it's the most important thing in the galaxy. Given that, what would you have him say or do right now?

By "make so much of the product," I think that IM meant "produce so much of the product" rather than "make such a big deal of the product." :)

But it's not so simple, IM. The Hamentashens want us not to produce anything until next month. If we produce, the Rugelachs will get their claim and the Hamentashens are out. If we don't produce, the Rugelachs are out and the Hamentashens own the Earth. Either way, we don't get to put them in a bidding war or dictate terms.

*Sigh* If only the galaxy were a more lawless place. :sad:

[The Powers That Be]

Ah! Yes. What he said.

[ethereal_fauna]

I still say double-cross them both. Get out of the predicament you're in by either appearing to agree or tricking the underling...whatever it takes, and then head to the local radio station and start blabbing.

[Key]

Another option is just to do what the Hamerdashems want.

I don't think we should do it, but it's an option.

o-)