Chapter 18
After their very strange adventure on Wunga-Wunga, the gang returned home to rest for awhile. Cutty went back to Earth for work, Galaxy-Man stayed in bed for the next few days, resting his aching bones, and Cherry found Galaxy-Man's old Super Nintendo and had been playing Super Mario RPG nonstop. Unfortunately, all three of them were forced to shave their heads when they returned due to the squips they contracted. It was a real shame, too. They all had such lovely hair. Galaxy-Man tried to make a shaved head work, but ultimately looked like an awkward baby. Cutty arguably had the nicest hair of the bunch and she wasn't happy about losing it. Cherry on the other hand didn't seem to care at all. If anything, having a shaved head only added to her character.
On a rainy Sunday morning, Galaxy-Man and Cherry were hanging out with Hamilton. Too rainy to go outside, they all sat together on Hamilton's couch watching reruns of Gilligan's Island. Cherry was playing the Super Nintendo on a smaller TV set up on a milk crate in the floor. She was positively hooked and just couldn't put it down. Who could blame her? SNES is the best.
“You know those vidja games'll rot your brain, dude,” said Galaxy-Man as he binge-watched Gilligan's Island for hours on end, pouring malted milk balls into his mouth by the carton. He didn't mean it of course. Galaxy-Man was a Nintendo fanboy from way back.
“Yeah, I'll do it when this is over,” replied Cherry, who was too busy battling a giant crab to hear what her father actually said.
The weather started getting rough and the cable connection was lost. The picture became scrambled and a horrible static hiss filled the room.
Galaxy-Man became absolutely infuriated by this. “Dammit!!" he yelled way too loudly, chocolate spewing from his maw. "I wanted to know if they got off the island this time!!” He growled like a dog in a post office and threw a ball-peen hammer at Hamilton's beloved TV like it owed him money or something, shattering the screen to little tiny pieces.
“Not again, Galaxy-Man,” moaned Hamilton in disappointment.
“Dang it, now what am I gonna look at!?” shouted Galaxy-Man. He then started staring at Hamilton intently. He stared him down deeply, as if peering into his very soul.
“What?” asked Hamilton. He smiled bashfully. “What is it?”
It was then that Galaxy-Man noticed that Hamilton was wearing a new hat. “Whoa, I'm digging the new dome piece, bro,” he said.
“What?” asked Hamilton.
“He likes your new hat,” translated Cherry, who was now battling a ghost. “Dang it! Stop using sleep spells!”
“Oh, it's a hat for my new basil sauce business,” explained Hamilton. “Everyone in town wants my sauce. I had to plant a whole garden of basil to keep up with demand. I don't charge any money. I just ask that people give a donation.”
Galaxy-Man started cracking up. “Did you use the seeds from the other plants?”
“Yeah,” said Hamilton brightly. “It must be a special strand or something.” He had no clue it was actually pot he had been peddling.
“Hey, Hamilton,” said Cherry, “did you know that My dad grows a little basil of his own? He grows it in the closet under a little sun lamp.”
“Cherry!” snapped Galaxy-Man.
“Good thinking,” said Hamilton. “I bet that keeps the bugs out.”
“Sometimes he rolls the basil into cigarette paper and smokes it,” said Cherry.
“You can smoke basil?” asked Hamilton. “Huh, well it is a plant, just like tobacco. This could be a healthier alternative to smoking cigarettes. This could be big, Galaxy-Man! I think I'll hand out basil cigarettes at church this evening to all our smokers. This could help a lot of people.”
Galaxy-Man put his hand on Hamilton's shoulder. “Hamilton, I got something to tell ya about your basil.”
“W-what?” asked Hamilton, fearing something awful.
“I dug up your spice garden awhile back... and I planted those seeds.”
Cherry was very surprised by Galaxy-Man admitting this, but too busy now fighting a skeleton to care.
“Yes,” Galaxy-Man continued, “I planted those seeds, and... and my logo should go on all future merchandise.”
“Um, okay,” said Hamilton, “sure.”
“Great,” said Galaxy-Man as he got up from the couch. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a date with the luckiest girl on Earth. He grabbed Hamilton's umbrella and walked out of the room. Hamilton just sat on his couch looking at the shattered remains of his onliest TV.
After going home and changing into something nice, Galaxy-Man strolled down the middle of the rainy street holding his stolen umbrella and whistling a catchy tune. He walked over to the mechanic's and picked up his baby, his first true love, the Star Whomper. Unlike most vehicles, the Star Whomper was male and not referred to as “she,” so Galaxy-Man's sexuality towards spaceships was a bit questionable.
“Are you saying I'm gay?”
Galaxy-Man had always been confused regarding-
“Hey, I'm totally hetero, dude. The backdoor of my house is a brick wall.”
Galaxy-Man flew his really well-liked spaceship over to Doagie's before heading to Earth. He needed help with an important matter and he knew that Nomad was always there on Sunday. When Galaxy-Man arrived, he saw that the quaint little sub shop had become a bustling five-star eatery with velvet ropes, though, the food and prices remained the same.
Galaxy-Man stepped off the ship and saw Nomad pulling weeds next to the parking lot.
“Nomad,” said Galaxy-Man, “I need your help, man.”
Nomad stood up and gave Galaxy-Man a fist bump. “Well if it isn't the amazing Galaxy-Man,” he said. “You're looking spiffy today.”
“Thank, man. Hey, I need you to tie this tie for me.” He pulled out a red bow tie from his pocket.
“Of course. Big date with Cutty?”
“Yeah, and I wanna look fly.”
Galaxy-Man was wearing a fancy monkey suit tuxedo and the last article he needed was a red bow tie.
“I'm gonna need you to turn around,” Nomad motioned. “It's the only way I can tie it.”
“No problem,” replied Galaxy-Man as he turned around.
“You know,” said Nomad as he began to tie the tie, “some people might say that a tie is a useless article of clothing, but I happen to think that fashion is very important. Fashion, after all, is a form of self-expression. It says a lot about your character, you know?”
“That's so true.”
“A bow tie is more of a statement than anything.” He finished tying the tie. “All done.”
“Thanks, Nomad. You're the best, man.”
“No problem. Always happy to help a friend.” He went back to pulling weeds. The grass looked neat and clean, but Nomad intentionally didn't pull any of the dandelions. Yellow dandelions and white dandelions grew everywhere.
“Looks like you missed a whole mess of weeds back there.”
“Oh, dandelions don't bother me any. The reason they're so disliked is more of a societal thing. I happen to think they're very pretty.”
“Huh, I guess they are kinda cute, all yellow and bright.”
Nomad picked one of the yellow dandelions. “The way I see it, you can look at a field of dandelions and either see a field of weeds or a field of wishes. I try to see the best in things I suppose.” He handed Galaxy-Man the flower. “Here, a gift for Cutty.”
Galaxy-Man smiled and put the flower in his pocket.
After saying his goodbyes, Galaxy-Man then left for planet Earth with the pretty flower in his pocket.
He flew to where Cutty and Maudeville were staying. This time it was a seedy half-star motel in a rural, no-horse town. Galaxy-Man safely landed the Whomper and walked over to the door. They were all staying in one room this time around. Galaxy-Man knocked on the door and Cutty answered it.
“Hi,” said Cutty brightly. She was wearing a lovely sweater and nice earrings. She looked surprisingly good with a shaved head. It is a bit more socially acceptable for a black woman to have a shaved head I suppose. Regardless, she looked very pretty. “Come on in. I was just putting on my shoes.”
Galaxy-Man walked in and sat down on the bed, which seemed much too firm. Marleen and her sisters were sitting on the other bed practicing for Tuesday's concert.
Esther looked somewhat annoyed, as she often did. “Theo, instz et cheepzen übertherot ys bourought hes coon fro es concerto. Ees nyet verd nine speelt ante Rolling Stone pample etwa meh,” she said, which translated to “hey, it's that discount superhero who brought his cat to the concert. We still haven't read any Rolling Stone articles about us.”
“Aww, you guys are so cool,” said Galaxy-Man, thinking that whatever Esther said must have been a complement.
“Silen, Esther!” replied Cutty. “Galaxy-Man esel e ami. Und ven'ght gustavoxen etwa hes coon.” This translated to “quiet, Esther, Galaxy-Man is a friend. And don't talk about his cat.”
Esther rolled her eyes. “Vatjeden,” which meant “whatever.”
“Aw, what are you guys saying about me?” asked Galaxy-Man.
Evelyn walked over to Galaxy-Man and stood right in his face and held his hands, looking deeply into his eyes, which made Galaxy-Man a little bit nervous. “Vu ictwena oeit vid Ine kumtine, patcheno? Be'dz meh oeit lebenfeet!” which translated to “you wanna get with me sometime, baldy? Let's get naked!”
“Ine weed vu candmin do guter,” said Marleen, which translated to “I think you could do better than him.” Cutty gave them both a mean look. They were of course just teasing.
Henrietta on the other hand looked a bit nervous as she often did. “Wie sid teh losten hes digit? Vat ish teh esel kum irgendwie de clumsen axt morteir und ees or nx!?” asked a very nervous Henrietta as she looked at Galaxy-Man's missing finger. This translated to “how did he lose his finger? What if he's some kind of clumsy ax murderer and we're next?”
“What did they say?” asked Galaxy-Man as he help up his former finger. “Why are you guys staring at the nub?”
“They said your bow tie looks great,” replied Cutty. “Now let's go.”
“Aww, thanks!” smiled Galaxy-Man bashfully.
Cutty finished putting her shoes on and she started for the door.
“Oh yeah,” said Galaxy-Man as he stood up from the hard bed. “I brought you something.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled up dandelion from before. “It got a bit mashed up in my pocket, but I thought you might like it anyway.” He handed her the flower.
“Aww,” said Esther sarcastically, “es obesana bourought es virty fe e bloem.” which translated to “Aww, the monkey brought the pretty lady a flower.”
“Corty!” yelled Evelyn, which was a word meaning “cute!” “Aw, wie kum vu sid nine brit Ine un?” She continued. This translated to “Aw, how come you didn't bring me one?”
“You brought me a weed?” asked Cutty, who was a little confused to say the least.
“It's not a weed!” insisted Galaxy-Man. “It's a... a field of dreams, no, wishes.”
“It doesn't look like a field of anything,” replied Cutty. “It looks like a dandelion to me.”
“No, it's like a- It's,”
Cutty gave him a big hug. “I love it,” she said.
“D'aww” gushed Marleen. “Es obesana lebenz fe,” which meant “the monkey loves her.”
“Ine gunta hosh Ine shoe krattz vu, Marleen!” snapped Cutty, which meant “I'm gonna throw my shoe at you Marleen!”
To Maudeville, Cutty was more than just a translator, she was a close friend and so they liked teasing her. To them, Cutty was family.
Galaxy-Man took Cutty aboard his spaceship and the two left off into a nearby town. Cutty had no idea where they were going. Galaxy-Man loved to surprise her. He had planned to take her out bowling. He wanted to do something normal and take a break from all the weirdness they'd been through. Wunga-Wunga was a bit of a strangeness overload to say the very least.
“You're taking me bowling?” asked Cutty.
Galaxy-Man became a little bit nervous. “I mean, if you want we can do something else.”
“Are you kidding? I love bowling!”
“Me, too!”
They both let out girlish squeals of excitement.
Outside the bowling alley, Galaxy-Man walked ahead of Cutty to hold the door open for her like a true gentleman.
“Thank you, my good sir,” said Cutty in her fanciest voice.
“Not a problem, sir,” replied Galaxy-Man as they walked over to the front counter.
“Wait, I'm a sir, too?” laughed Cutty.
The bowling alley was smokey and neon-lit, Purple Rain by Prince playing over the jukebox. They walked up to a counter and there was older guy with gray hair working the register. His hair was wild, and his forehead was massive. He looked very angry and bitter. His face was hard and wrinkled, perhaps from frowning all his life. His name tag simply read “Ray.”
“What's crackin'?” asked Ray.
“Not too much,” replied Galaxy-Man. “I woke up this morning and-”
“I really don't care,” Ray interrupted rudely. “Why don't you go play billiards, ya cue balls.”
“Ouch,” said Cutty.
Galaxy-Man hung his bald head in sadness. “Words hurt you know.”
Ray looked at Galaxy-Man with a fake sad face. “Aw, ya gonna cry, pansy? Is your boyfriend not standing up for you?”
“I'm a girl, idiot,” said Cutty, “and you'd better watch what you say, jerk.”
“Yeah, she fought a dragon the other day,” added Galaxy-Man. “We were on a quest to find-”
Ray interrupted Galaxy-Man with hearty laughter. “Jeez, you guys are a bunch of screwballs. You know what? I like ya. Bowling's on me. Count yourselves lucky.”
Galaxy-Man and Cutty didn't know what to think about this guy.
“I don't know if I like you or hate you, man,” said Galaxy-Man.
“Yeah, I'm a real mystery,” replied Ray. “Now get outta my face before I knock you into last week.”
“Whatever,” said Cutty, “let's go bowling.”
After changing shoes and picking a ball, they walked over to an empty lane.
“Something's bugging me,” said Galaxy-Man.
“Oh, what's that?” asked Cutty who was fooling with the computer to start the game.
“I mean, I've heard of knocking someone into next week, but how the heck do you knock someone into last week?”
Cutty gave a big toothy smile and laughed. “Good question.” She worked the computer, but couldn't seem to get the game started.
“What's the armadealio?”
“I don't know, I just can't seem to-”
“That lane never works,” said a voice a few lanes over. Galaxy-Man and Cutty looked over and saw a peculiar rabbit man holding a bowling ball. He was fairly short if you didn't count his impressive long ears. He walked on two legs and had more or less a human body. He had short, velvety-soft pink fur all over and black whiskers on his face. He wore a yellow bandanna, a green T shirt with red overalls, and black DCs. “Come on,” he motioned. “You can come play with me.”
Galaxy-Man and Cutty just shrugged their shoulders and went with it. When you battle a chef flying a dragon on a planet made of hair, your sense of what is normal and what is strange becomes blurred. While anthropomorphism was uncommon, it wasn't unheard of. He likely had a spell cast on him at some point in his life.
They walked over and the rabbit man shook their hands. “What's up?” he said. He got onto the computer to start the game over. He was smoking a Roger's cigarette and drinking from a very large mug of beer. With a very long-ashed cigarette in hand, he pointed at Galaxy-Man. “What name do you want, man? You can only get six letters, cuz.”
Galaxy-Man thought and pondered. “G-L-X-Y-M-N,” he spelled.
“Galaxy-Mane?” asked the rabbit man. “That's what's up. Alright, what about you?” he pointed to Cutty.
“Oh, just Cutty,” she replied.
“Cool,” said the rabbit man as he entered her name. He then entered his own name in as “FREEDM,”
“Freedom?” asked Galaxy-Man.
“That's my name, man, Freedom Rabbit.”
First up was Galaxy-Man. “Put your diapers on,” he said, “'cause I'm about to shock the world.” With his pink, six-pound ball, he walked up to the lane. He threw the ball directly into the gutter. “Warm up shot, warm up shot.” His ball returned and he got ready to shock the world. He reached his arm back and and rolled the ball down the lane like a boss, but about half-way down the lane it veered into the gutter. “Dang it!” He made the difficult walk back to Cutty and Freedom, carrying his wounded pride in a metaphorical wheelbarrow.
“Wow,” said Cutty sarcastically, “you really shocked the world back there.”
“Oh, then why don't you show me how it's done, your lordship,” said Galaxy-Man. “You're up, baldylockes.”
Freedom was drinking an awful lot of beer. A woman who worked there kept bringing him refills. This time she brought him a plate of greasy nachos. He offered Galaxy-Man some. “Nacho?” asked Freedom. “I can get y'all a couple beers, too, if you want. My old lady got me a gift card for Christmas. She's at her mama's right now.”
“That'd be awesome, man,” said Galaxy-Man.
Cutty walked up to the lane, ball in hand, ready to shock the world. She reached her arm back and rolled a perfect gutter ball. “Uh, and that, folks, is how not the throw the ball,” said Cutty. “This time's for real.”
Freedom turned to Galaxy-Man. “Is that your girl?” he asked.
“Kinda,” replied Galaxy-Man. “Tryin' to take it slow, you know?”
“Word. That's the way to do it right there. Get to know somebody first, right?”
“Exactly.”
Cutty grabbed her ball and got ready to roll. She reached back, this time definitely ready to shock the world, and released the rock... directly into the gutter. “Poo,” she said in extreme disappointment. She went back and sat next to Galaxy-Man and crossed her arms. “At least when you're bowling on the Wii you don't have to take the walk of shame back to your friends.”
Freedom got up and staggered his way over to the lane. He was so drunk it looked like he could collapse at any moment.
“Don't worry,” quietly said Galaxy-Man to Cutty, “this guy's hammered right now. He's probably gonna miss the lane all together.”
Freedom grabbed his ball and rolled it down the lane at a high speed directly into the pocket. It was a perfect strike! Galaxy-Man and Cutty were both amazed. Their dumb was founded and their flabber had been thoroughly gasted. Freedom was an excellent bowler, even when completely sauced.
The woman from before came by with more beer. “Lord that man can put 'em away,” she said.
“Actually those are for us,” said Galaxy-Man. “You like beer, right?” he asked Cutty.
“Sometimes,” said Cutty. She seemed a bit apprehensive. She hadn't drank in a long time.
After a few hours, everyone was completely wasted, Cutty included. They were on their fourth game and their umteenth beer. Freedom won the last three games by a mile. Their scores were:
FREEDM - 212
GLXYMN - 56
CUTTY - 52
...
FREEDM - 224
CUTTY - 61
GLXYMN - 18
...
FREEDM - 190
GLXYMN - 38
CUTTY - 6
Galaxy-Man was undeterred, though, still determined to shock the world. “Watch this,” he said confidently. I believe those were the famous last words of Evel Knievel. He picked up his cute little baby ball and started laughing as he looked at Cutty. “Don't make me laugh. I can't do this because you're making me laugh right now.”
“You can do it!” yelled Cutty. “Woo!!” She started laughing uncontrollably.
Her laughter was catching and Galaxy-Man began laughing, too. “I can't do it if you're gonna make me laugh,” chuckled Galaxy-Man.
“You got it, man,” said Freedom. “Put a little stink on it,” he continued, which was apparently bowling slang for making the ball curve.
Galaxy-Man walked to the lane, ready to shock the entire world. He reached his arm back, ready to roll the ball, but he started laughing and ending up rolling it as if he were gently patting Cutty on the butt or something. It was probably the most embarrassingly bad shot in all of bowling. The ball went so excruciatingly slow that it actually came to a complete stop halfway down the lane. Galaxy-Man just laughed and buried his face in his hands. “Oh God I'm so bad at this.”
“Dude, we suck,” laughed Cutty.
Even Freedom was cracking up. He shook his head and laughed with his hand over his mouth. “Dang,” said Freedom, surprised. “Somebody's gotta go get it, man.”
“I'll get it,” said Galaxy-Man sternly. He then started chuckling. “If you'll stop making me laugh!” He started slowly walking down the lane. Cutty started snickering. “Quit makin' me laugh, man,” he giggle. Drunk and laughing hard, Galaxy-Man tripped over the back of his own leg and fell over. He slid the rest of the way down the lane and knocked down all the pins with his face.
After Galaxy-Man's great shame, the three were promptly escorted out of the bowling alley by the manager. They all sat down on the curb, a bit too drunk to stand.
“That was too fun,” said Cutty. “I had a wonderful time with you guys.”
Galaxy-Man nodded in agreement. “Maybe we can all get together again someti-” He started laughing again. “Quit makin' me laugh, Cutty!”
“I'm not doing anything!” laughed Cutty.
Freedom just shook his head and laughed. “You guys are drunk,” he said. “Hell yeah, we all need to get together sometime. My ol' boy Shifty just got out the pen last week. I can go to his boathouse anytime if y'all wanna go swimmin'. It's just an old riverbank but he's got a big ass tire swing. It's pretty dope.”
“Heck yeah, man,” said Galaxy-Man. “Gimme yo digits, homie,”
Freedom wrote down the number on Galaxy-Man's wrist with a construction pencil. “That's what's up,” he said. “Hell yeah, G-Man, hit me up whenever and we'll get some shit figured.”
“This should be fun, huh Cutty?”
“You know it,” replied Cutty. “You know you can't call him unless you're on Earth, right?”
Freedom finished writing down the number and then passed out.
“Did he just... die?” asked Cutty.
“Nah, he just passed out I think. He drank like 20 beers.”
“What do we do? We can't just leave him out in the cold. He'll freeze.”
“I got an idea.”
They took his body and shoved it into a nearby dumpster.
“This is crazy,” laughed Cutty.
They wrapped his body in old newspaper to keep him warm.
“I'm really short on ideas right now,” said Galaxy-Man.
After leaving Freedom's body in the dumpster, they staggered over to the Whomper so Galaxy-Man could take Cutty back to the hotel.
“You're not gonna fly drunk are you?” asked Cutty.
“Nah,” said Galaxy-Man. “I'll use the ship's autopilot. You just punch in the destination and it'll take us there on its own perfectly every time.”
“Wait, the Whomper can fly itself perfectly!? Then why the heck are you always crashing!?”
“I don't like the autopilot. I like doing things for myself, man. I just like the ways it feels.”
Cutty then punched Galaxy-Man in the arm.