ADOPTION
It was adoption day at the facility. All those humans slated for euthanasia looking so bewildered, frightened and lost. How can anyone just leave them all to die? Thork and I rolled by the glass fronts of the cagesstacked three rows high. So many of them. There must have been several hundred. They stared back at us hollow eyed and distrustful. Most had given up any hope of rescue. It was so sad. Thork and I would take them all home if we could. As it was, we had already rescued six over the years. They make such wonderful pets. So grateful to have another year or two of life. Loyal, loving and kind, there’s nothing like a mature human to make a bleem a pronk. I look at their faces. I believe I can read a lot into their expressions. These are the unwanted refuse that clutters our streets. Picked up like vermin, breeding in dark corners, mongrels the lot of them. And yet, I believe, there is a dignity in even the lowest of them. Clean them up and feed them and they are the equal of any pure bred expensive variety. I have had nothing but good experiences from my rescue pets. Oscar was beloved by all in the years he lived with me. It broke my org to flush him but he was so broken, he was not worth fixing. To this day I don’t know how he got under my roller. But I believe that every life is special and that there is something cute and worth saving in all of them. I roll by slowly and check out their faces. I nudge Thork with my appendageand point to a female in the third row. A mature female beyond child bearing years with a soft belly and sagging breasts. Water streams from her eyes like they do when they are sad. It touches my org. “She’s the one,” I tell Thork and he rolls off to get the attendant. The attendant expertly wraps an appendagearound our female and rolls her to the front. They are so small and delicate. The attendant examines her and gives her her shots with a big needle. She lets out a little yelp of pain and he puts her in the carrier we brought. We give the attendant credits and Thork carries the human to the transporter. We will keep her in the cage with the others. They seem to like their own kind. Outside the air is cool. The human whimpers and cowers in the corner of the carrier. I smeem to Thork, “Look, she shakes. That means she likes me doesn’t it?” “Perhaps she is frightened or cold,” Thork knows nothing about humans. “Perhaps,” I smeem back unconvinced. “I will call her Oscar like my other one. What do you think?” Thork smeemsassent. I stick my appendageinto the carrier and stroke the creature. It shrieks. I can tell it likes me.
The Bay It Buzz
I knew they were lying. "Don burry Bill, ebry thing bill be all bright," in that crazy accent of theirs with their "B's" and "W's" crossed. The house was a horrible mess. The furniture was dirty and old. What pictures there were were crooked and not of anything anyone in their right mind would hang on a wall--a photo of a toilet seat, a painting of a crumpled sheet of paper. The yard was littered with trash; the lawn was some sickly tufts of wiry grass; the gate was hanging by a single hinge. "Ebry thing bill be just the bay it buzz," he had said. But it buzzn’t…er, wasn’t.. It wasn't just that the house was a mess, it's what lay beyond the gate that really stunned me. Desert. There were a few forlorn little houseslike mine and then nothing but scrub and dust and tumbleweed as far as the eye could see. "You call this the way it was?" I said to Bork. The alien stood a full seven feet tall and grinned down at me with its idiotic grin and its shiny suit. It looked human but you could tell he wasn't really. "Bell, it buzz harder den be thought. Wut, all in all, not too wad." I could only groan for what was once a lovely Midwestern town in the corn-belt. Put through Bork's analyzer it was supposed to be digitized and reassembled exactly the way it was. But it didn't take a genius to seethat the reality that went in wasn't what came out. In went my gorgeous sofa with the art deco arms and the fabric I searched all over Chicago for; and out came this dumpy Sears hide-a-bed I wouldn't even sit on. In went my little dog, Muffy, and out came this cat-like fur beast. "Stop" I yelled. "You're getting it all wrong." "Don burry," Bork said and squirted me with something that knocked me out for a
week. When I came to, things were pretty strange and Bork and his pals were gone. He paid me though, just as he promised. I have a stack of hundred dollar bills in the basement. Every one has a picture of George Bush on it. PLATTERS
“He says he can’t come to the phone.” “Why not?” “He says he’s washing the platters.” “Did you tell him that this was the President of the United Galaxies?” “I did sir.” “And what did he say?” “He said he had only a few more platters.” “Feeble minded old bat,” muttered the president. “I beg pardon.” “Listen, would you just tell him that galactic Intelligence has reported that the Drunds are entering the home system. The weather station on Saturn is already under fire and unless your husband gives us the formula in the next seven minutes, humankind will be inihilated.” “Oh, I couldn’t possibly remember all of that,” replied Mrs. Spigitz, “but here he comes now.” “Professor Spigitz here, go ahead.” “The formula,” blurted the President,” we need the formula to activate the crystalline preservative and save at least some of humanity.” “Oh yes, yes, that formula,” said the white haired professor wiping his free hand on his apron. “You know i thought up that formula while washing the platters. You see I...” “Yes, yes, another time professor please,the formula.”
“Well, yes, just a minute, I’ll go and look for it.”