Chapter 16
Pat of course didn't have the will to follow through on his word. Cherry wasn't really grounded. He had become like a weather vane, pointing wherever the wind decided to blow. He had become a completely and utter pushover, an empty husk of a former man. The next day, Cutty and Cherry managed to convince Pat back on the Whomper with false promises of going to the stationary store to buy paper. In actuality, they were on their way to a strange new world in search of the third dongle. Cutty and Cherry both figured a good adventure would brighten the man's spirits. The only real reason Cherry wanted all the dongles was simply because she liked looking for them, and their quests to find them seemed to bring everyone closer.
Pat sat on the couch listening to a Jimmy Buffett CD on a stereo he bought with his own money. He sat with Cutty while Cherry piloted the Whomper this time, secretly checking the DongleDar every so often. Pat only listened to Jimmy Buffet now. Alas, he had even lost his good taste in music. Pat sat eating a particularly dry bowl of plain oatmeal looking sad and thoroughly boring.
“Want me to put on some Maudeville, Dad?” asked Cherry. “You've been listening to Margaritaville for 45 minutes now.”
“No, ma'am,” said Pat, “I only listen to Jimmy Buffett now. Take care. God bless.”
“It's just... he has more than one song, you know?”
“Yeah,” agreed Cutty, “Jimmy Buffet has lots of songs. There's Come Monday, and Cheeseburger in Paradise.”
“No,” replied Pat, “I only listen to Margaritaville now. Thank you. Have a good one.”
“You don't even like margaritas, Dad!” snapped Cherry. “You used to call it 'faggot water,' remember?”
Pat just hung his head in doleful sorrow and went back to eating his bland gruel. “When will we be arriving at the stationary store?” he asked.
“Why? It ain't goin' anywhere!” retorted Cherry. In her mind, a rimshot played as she loudly giggled to herself.
The joke caught Cutty off guard and she let out a loud chuckle. Pat just looked at his cold, gray oatmeal, not cracking so much as even the slightest simper.
Cutty put her hand on Pat's thigh. “Hey, let's watch some cartoons,” she said as she grabbed the remote.
“I only watch the news now,” said Pat.
“Um, okay, let's watch the news then.” She turned on the TV. The Whomper's TV only picked up three channels because they didn't pay for any actual television plan. They just picked up the freebies. On TV there was the obligatory breaking news banner.
A newsman was on screen looking very fearful. “...ust received confirmation that the morpher has reached the size of a small house. Rich, I believe-”
“Jesus Christ,” said Cherry from the helm.
“It is being dubbed the Destroyer of Worlds and is expected to continue growing,” said the newsman. “The government has called for a total evacuation of the planet until the morpher dies of natural causes, as it possesses the ability to absorb the energy from gunfire or high explosives.”
“Oh my God,” said Cutty. The morpher was certainly becoming something horrific.
“Morpher's can survive in the vacuum of space,” said Pat. Occasionally his old self would bleed through and his excitement would shine. The prospect of a monster capable of devastating an entire planet excited him very slightly. He even started talking with his hands out in front of him. He did this whenever something really peaked his interest. “They can actually-” He caught himself and stopped immediately. He quickly grabbed the remote from Cutty and turned off the TV. He wanted no excitement in life. He wanted to suffer. “Thank you. Come again,” he said.
“Aw, man,” groaned Cherry, “I wanted to hear more.”
“Yeah,” agreed Cutty. “You looked so happy for a second.”
“Thank you. No thank you. Happy Holidays,” said Pat. He used pleasantries as a sort of defense mechanism. It's as though the real him wanted to come out but was trapped in a sea of niceties.
“I heard that the winner of Battleon is gonna battle the morpher with like, a magic sword or something,” said Cherry. “Isn't that interesting, Dad?”
“Have a good one,” said Pat.
They then reached a very peculiar planet called Wunga-Wunga. It was a planet where instead of plants, different types of hair grew wild all over its surface. It was once a sort of playground where scientists created all manner of strange and wonderful things. Cherry landed the Whomper softly into a wild afro bush. If that sounds odd, it's because it is. It was a pleasantly soft landing, like jumping into a big woolly sheep. What a wildly weird world Wunga-Wunga was.
“Wow,” said Cherry, “we barely crashed at all this time.”
Cutty looked out the window to find that they had landed in a huge black afro. "Looks like we landed on afroturf, guys."
“Is this the stationary store?” asked Pat. “I need a new pack of college ruled.”
“Dad, don't get mad, but the stationary store was a cover up. We need to find all the dongles. I wanna know what happens when they're all together.”
“... Okay,” replied Pat, completely indifferent to the situation. He just went with it like the weather vane he was.
“Hey,” said Cutty, “maybe if the glove really is some kind of super weapon, we can use it to defeat the morpher. That would be quite the battle, huh?” Cutty donned her green boxing gloves and readied her sword for the unknown.
“Like that'll ever happen,” said Cherry. “I ain't going near that thing. That's Beaverball's problem.”
They all stepped off the ship, crawled down from the afro and gazed out at the marvelous hairy world around them. The sky was deep purple and there were long bands of rust colored clouds that hung slightly askew. The gang had landed on a large bump on the side of the planet that was so massive it had its own gravitational pull, making the gang at an odd angle from the clouds overhead, which appeared to them to be moving upwards. They were in a large meadow of sorts, only instead of grass there was thick, wavy green locks of fabulous fur, lots and lots of fur; nothing but fur and the occasional afro for miles. The fur was soft to the touch and really pleasant to run your fingers through actually. The ground underneath, however, was pink and fleshy. It felt pretty strange, like they were walking on top of a giant scalp.
“Well this is... different,” said Cutty as the group contemplated their decidedly droll surrounding.
“Where are we?” asked Cherry.
“Wunga-Wunga,” answered Pat.
“Wunga-what?” asked Cherry.
“Wunga-Wunga, the hair planet.”
“Oh, cool beans.”
The gang strolled along, following Cherry's lead. The hair was difficult to traverse as it was for the most part very thick, though, there were strange clearings where the ground was completely bald. Along the way they saw strange creatures that ate the hair, leaving long, bald trails in their paths. They were bovine type creatures called chawmooers. They resembled cows crossed with moose, but they had softer fur and strangely soulful eyes. They were creatures of compassion and high intelligence.
“What the Funk & Wagnalls are those things?” asked Cherry.
“I don't know,” said Cutty as she held her sword tightly, “but I don't trust 'em.”
“Those are chawmooers,” said Pat. He had actually been to Wunga-Wunga before many years ago while on a weed retreat. “They're creatures that feed on the very-” Pat caught himself talking with his hands again. “I'm... gonna go wait in the car. Bring me back a diet Pepsi.” Alas, he had even lost his good taste in... well, taste. He started marching back towards the Whomper, but Cherry grabbed him by the belt loop.
“Oh-no, you're coming with us!” shouted Cherry. She got right in his face and started shaking him. “Embrace the weird! Embrace it!!”
As they trudged through the tall hair, something somehow unexpected happened, as if things could possibly get any weirder. All of a sudden, two brightly colored woolly mammoths emerged from the fur, and also they could speak because why not. Their existence was the product of an abandoned science experiment by people who themselves apparently experimented with LSD.
“Howdy-howdy,” said one of the mammoths. “I am-am Curley-Cue.” His fur was bright orange and his impressive tusks were deep red. What a strange beast he was.
“'Sup?” replied Cherry, coolly. She then noticed that a green dongle was wedged in his teeth. What was it doing there? Who knows. “Hey, it's the dongle. Dude, we need that green dealy in your teeth.”
“I found it in-in my very large toilet!”
The other mammoth's fur on the other hand was a pretty shade of purple and his tusks were deep orange. “I am-am-am Willy-Wunka,” he said with many dashes.
It was then that Curley-Cue spotted Cutty's sword. “By my-my hairy legs, Willy-Wunka, they be-be here-here to cut-cut!”
“Dude... the heck is even happening right now?” asked Cherry to no one in particular.
“I'm gonna go back to the ship and listen to Jimmy Buffett for a few days,” said Pat.
“Shut the hell up, Dad!” Screamed Cherry. “You're staying here!”
“... Okay.”
“No no,” said Cutty to the mammoths. “I'm not here to cut-cut anyone's hair. I promise. I just brought the sword for-”
“Bite your tongue, heathen!!!” interrupted Curley-Cue. “Send them to ULTRA JAIL!!!”
“Whoa there,” said Cherry, “there's no need to send anybody to Ultra Jail.”
“You shat speak unless spoken to!!” said Curley-Cue.
“I think you mean shan't,” said Cutty.
“Yeah, dude,” said Cherry. “Shat means somethin' else, man.”
“That is it!!” exploded Curley-Cue. “Have the chef release the ICE DRAGON!!!”
Cherry shook her head in confusion. “The hell is up with ice dragons lately?”
“Why does the chef have a dragon?” asked Cutty.
“I wish Jimmy Buffett were here,” mumbled Pat.
Cherry's eyes became wide with rage; she had finally lost it. “Oh my God would you kindly shut the hell up about Jimmy frickin' Buffett for five frickin minutes you goddamn diet-Pepsi-drinkin' robot!!!” She started shaking him violently. “Have a nice day!” she mocked. “Have a good one! Drive safe! Happy freakin' holidays you son of a bitch!!” Pat was practically in tears and the mammoths were very confused as well.
Cutty stepped in to try to break them up. “Cherry, m-maybe you should-”
“M-m-maybe-” mocked Cherry, “Maybe you should just go away, Cutty. You don't know what it's like to lose someone you've known your whole life!” Cutty was so hurt that she immediately shed a tear. Cherry stopped and looked at herself. She suddenly felt horrible about the things she had said. She softly let go of Pat's shirt and backed away. For several seconds no one said anything. “Guys, I'm- I didn't mean-” but her apology was cut short.
“Enough!” shouted Curley-Cue. “We-we shall send you to-to Ultra-Jail for the rest of your days-days and you shat escape!”
Everyone was speechless. Willy-Wunka picked everyone up one by one and gently put them on his back. The gang was too downhearted to put up a fight.
They were escorted into a city a few miles away. They passed by massive cowlicks that stretched high into the air and great mustachioed trees, some of which were gray from old age. They also past by a farm where little pigtails and cute ponytails roamed, and where neat cornrows and amber waves of luxurious locks grew. The ride was pleasant enough, considering. Willy-Wunka was very gentle and his thick fur was warm and soft. He seamed like the nicer of the two, definitely the good cop of the two.
The city was a vast network of tangled locks and quite a sight to behold actually. It was busy and bustling metropolis inhabited mostly by woolly mammoths and everything was fittingly gigantic. The gang, still not speaking, was immediately taken to jail; no trial, no court, strait to the big house, or in this case, the very big house. So much for due process. They were taken to a cell made of large, coarse beards. It was certainly the strangest room any of them had ever been in. The room was very itchy and crawling with tiny lice-like insects. The bugs were called squips and fed off of human hair. They immediately infested all of their heads. For a long while things were quiet, but Cutty finally broke the silence.
“Sure is itchy in here,” she said quietly.
Cherry looked very trouble, like the weight of the world were on her chest. “I'm really sorry, guys,” she said sincerely. “I was just angry, that's all. I especially shouldn't have taken it out on you, Cutty. I didn't mean what I said. I just-”
“It's okay,” said Cutty, comfortingly. “I forgive you, Cherry.”
“So, we're cool, homie?”
“Of course we are.”
“Dad, can you forgive me?”
“Yes please," he responded. "Thank you.”
“Dad, please come back,” cried Cherry. “I know you miss Stevie but she's gone. Stevie is dead and she's never coming back. I know you blame yourself, but it's really not your fault. It's no one's fault. These things just happen. You should just be thankful you got to spend 10 years with her. Most cats don't even live that long.”
“I'm sorry,” said Pat. “Have a... a nice day.”
Willy-Wunka and Curley-Cue came back with food for them to eat.
“Welcome-welcome!” said Curley-Cue. “You will-will be killed on the morrow by Matt, the ice dragon.” Not a very fitting name for a great and terrible dragon if you ask me.
“Thank you,” said Pat. “Drive safe. Don't be a stranger.”
“We've brought-brought-brought you your final meals,” said Willy-Wunka. Willy-Wunka brought in various candies and cakes and Curley-Cue brought Morton's salt of all things. “Goodbye, friends,” said Willy-Wunka.
They tossed in the food and went along their ways. Everyone was trying to figure out this Willy-Wunka character. He seemed so nice, yet he was gonna kill them? He was a bit of a mystery.
“Oh great, ” said Cherry, “now we're gonna die, and it's all-” she paused, “... it's all my fault,” she realized. “I'm a terrible team captain.” She hung her head in shame.
“Hey,” said Cutty cheerfully, “We can make it out of this, guys.”
“How?” asked Cherry.
“Uh, this cell is made out of hair,” said Cutty. “It shouldn't be that hard to escape. Look, they didn't even take away my sword.”
“Did you hear that, Dad?” said Cherry enthusiastically. “We're gonna bust out! Isn't this exciting?”
“We should wait until nightfall before we make a break for it,” said Gal- I mean Pat. He caught himself talking with his hands again and quickly stopped. “Pretty good. How about you?” he asked, not expecting a real answer.
“Fantastic,” said Cherry spritely. “My heart is racing. I can't believe we're about to make a break for-” She stopped. Willy-Wunka was peering into the cell. Cherry was thoroughly terrified. “M-make a break for the pearly gates. Yep, can't wait to meet Jesus and friends. Heh heh,” she smiled guiltily. Willy-Wunka just winked and walked away.
“He knows,” quietly said Cutty as she smiled big. “He's a double-crosser.”
“He's on our side,” whispered Cherry loudly. “Isn't this exciting, Dad?” Cherry started eating candy while Pat ate Morton's salt with a spoon.
“Not bad,” said Pat. “Can't complain. I'm alright, how about you? Thank you. Have a nice weekend. Happy Halloween.”
“Dad, I swear to the imaginary man in the sky, if you don't stop this I'm gonna kill myself.”
“... Have a nice day.”
“That's it! I'm gonna eat freaking chocolate until I can't breathe, and when I die a slow and horrible death, then you can blame yourself!! How about that!?”
“Don't,” said Pat. “I...”
“You what?”
“I... love you.”
“I love you, too, Dad, but you have to snap out of this. You're just being selfish right now. You think you're punishing yourself for Stevie's death, but you're making everyone suffer.”
“Happy Kwanzaa.”
“That's it!!”
“Listen to me right now,” snapped Cutty. Her tone was serious and a little frightening. Even Cherry was surprised. “I'm not gonna let you waste your life away. I know things seem impossible right now, but you have to be strong, not just for you, but for your daughter, for Hamilton, for... for me. We all love you, and we want you to get better, but we can't fix every little thing for you. You have to try! You can't just roll over and die. You have to fight!” Cutty was so worked up she began to cry.
“It's so hard,” said Pat in a raspy low voice.
“I know, but you have to fight it! Stevie wouldn't want you to feel like this.”
“I can't.”
Cherry just watched their back-and-forth, not knowing what to do or say. She began to tear up herself.
Cutty grabbed Pat by his shirt. “Yes, you can! You have to make it through this pain!”
“Why? What's the point?”
“You have to make it through this because... because I love you.”
Pat didn't expect to hear this and it caught him off guard. “You... you love me?”
“Before I met you, my life kinda sucked. I was cutting, and drinking myself to death. I thought that nothing could ever bring me happiness until a man from outer space came down and, out of all the people in the universe, he wanted a nobody like me to be his friend.”
“Who is he?” asked Pat in a barely audible voice, “I'll kick his ass.”
Cutty laughed and gave Pat a very long and teary hug. “I know it's hard,” she said, “but it gets easier. I promise. Just remember, when you give up on yourself, you give up on everyone. Don't give up on Cherry, and don't give up on me.” This was very true. To stop trying is about the most selfish act you could do. When you punish yourself, you punish the people who love you as well.
“You know what?” asked Pat.
“What is it?” asked Cutty. Pat paused for awhile and Cherry and Cutty were anxiously waiting to hear what he had to say, hoping for the best, and preparing for the worst of the worst.
“You know what?” he asked again, this time looking down and shaking his head, like he was about to get the weight of the whole world off his chest. Something was really eating at him.
“What is it, Dad,” asked Cherry.
“I hate Jimmy Buffet,” he happily replied. Cutty and Cherry then knew that he was finally back to his old self. With that one very warranted statement, they both knew that the amazing Galaxy-Man had finally made his triumphant return.
Cherry cried tears of sweet joy. “I hate Jimmy Buffett, too, Dad,” she laughed, tears rolling down her face. She gave a big long-overdue bear hug. “I hate Jimmy Buffett, too.”