12. The Galaxy’s Longest Monologue

Admittedly, Larry hadn’t thought much about Eddie since his second kidnapping.  Life had already dealt Larry down the river twice recently.  The cat’s condition and whereabouts were one of the last things in the back of his mind.  When he saw Eddie, though, his eyes widened and he welcomed him back with open arms.

The journey back to Larry did nothing to change Eddie’s demeanor.

“It’s like were caught in some toilet that just won’t flush,” Eddie said, jumping onto Larry’s lap.  “How soon until we get home?”

“Well, we’re not on the express train to get there,” Larry said.

It was at this point Larry recalls thinking he should have blown his brains out.  Well, first he should have taken Elektra in his arms, kissed her, and then blown his brains out.  Because this is, as Larry recalled, when Ignacio Sheets rose from his chair and started talking for a very long time.

“The universe, Larry, is a tricky place.  Just when you think you’ve got your arms around governing your own little street corner, the block, the city, the state, the planet or even the galaxy, the universe has a way of reminding you of this: you are not alone.  You are never alone.  Big Believer Larry?  Don’t answer that.  I bet you’re probably one of those God believers, thinking somewhere out there, somewhere, some sort of all sentient smog or nebulous cloud is controlling every but of your human lives’ existence like so many chess pieces on a chess board.  So, you get away with doing irresponsible things and then reconciling yourself with this ‘God’ of yours for now real reason other than it makes you feel very good believing you have absolutely no control over your lives.  And in that sense, you, too, believe, in a sort of simpleton, Romper Room form, that there is other life in the universe.  It’s just that your mistaken about what created it.  In any case, I’m just trying to sum you humans up for myself as I get to where I want us to go in this little conversation of ours.  And that is to say that if you believe that something exploded out there like an overdone tin can filled with Jiffy Pop popcorn, or if you think there’s some old bearded man floating from place to place touching us all inappropriately with some heavenly finger, breathing life into each and every form and void in the universe like tying strings to marionettes, then smiling to himself like Geppetto after creating Pinocchio, then I think what I need to remind you is this: the universe is a tricky place.

“I say this not only to repeat myself.  No.  In fact, there just isn’t really another way to sum up what’s happened here on this little planet of ours.  Look around you.  There is an entire society of millions of people who’ve based themselves on the notion that the 1980’s and all its culture were somehow, once again borrowing from your ‘God worship’ notion, reverent.  Holy.  And we didn’t even get an instruction manual like your … Torah?  Bible? No King James version for us, Larry.  No pithy water cooler arguments about how to spell Koran with some liberal leaning cocktail party liberal friends or those bloated insecure conservatives simply seeking another secreted night with a hooker or the nursery school boy of their choosing.  No.  What we got, Larry, is here,” Sheets paused, running a set of fingers along the sides of his ribs. “And here,” he paused again, running the same fingers along his temples. “What we got, Larry, was not of our choosing.  At least Machiavelli wrote down his ideas in a book that could be read and refused by stronger minded people.  Our lives are some Draconian trick of fate — all this accelerated cellular generation turning us from protozoan marmalade to hexapedal life forms, with consciences and bathroom breaks and all the things that you get on your Earth, but had billions of years to get used to versus the 13 days we had to do it.

“And that’s the funny thing, Larry.  After that 13 days, something slammed on the brakes as one might to a speeding bullet train ready to collide with the terminal in Dover — or wherever that contraption disembarks.  That particular program from one of your ‘networks’ didn’t fully seed into my coding.  But I think I’m close, no?  And there we were, all staring at each other with his sort of, ‘Well what the fuck should we all do now?’ look on our faces.  It would have made for a good night of comedy on any of your networks.  But then a few of them got this idea that something created the universe.  Something created them.  Someone got ahead of the old power curve, Larry before any of us really had an opportunity to exercise ‘free will’ or ‘question our origins,’ we — and by we I mean EVERYONE Larry — were all inducted into a little self-help program led by none other than our new God, the deity we never asked for; the father, the son and the Holy Spirit of our little 13-day wonder world — you.

“Now, I know you’ve heard this bit by bit as you’ve been bounced from venue to venue here.  And Drexel and his people wish they could have reached you first so they could have corrected this error sooner rather than later.  No one like to die by fire, Larry, but unfortunately, that is what we all face.  They got you first.  They saw you.  They activated the weapon.  I believe in your Christian culture, you have effectively activated our Rapture.  Someone will correct me if I’m wrong.  Now, at this point, I would point to an episode of ‘Happy Days’ of which I know you’re familiar with.  Now, first, you’re probably saying to yourself, ‘Ignacio, Happy Days was, in fact, a show from the 1970s.  I grew up with that.  That’s not 1980’s programming.  How do you know about Happy Days.’ To which I would respond ‘Nick at Night,’ which is  neither here not there.  The point is this: there is a lesson from this particular episode from which I want you to draw an allegory.  And, in fact, given your vocation, you should already know this allegory.  It is — or was — quite a pop phenomenon in your culture.  So, here it is … but first, I have reference an earlier episode of ‘Happy Days’ for this whole thing to ring true.  Before I do that, someone get Larry some water and his cat a plate of milk,“ Sheets said.  A few minutes of silence passed before both orders were made.  Sheets continued.  “So, Fonzie jumps … something … on his motorcycle in an earlier episode.  Apparently, he was trying to save Arnold’s Diner and all the good times Richie, Potsie, Ralph Malph, Joanie and Pinkie Tuscadero had there.  Or something like this.  You humans do a lot of this in your programs.In any case, so he cracks the bike up pretty bad and cracks himself up pretty bad.  The Fonz tells us later in a the 24-minute moral play that ‘takin’ risks ain’t cool.’  And while the moral itself has absolutely no value here, it’s a nice transition to the episode that matters.  Which is this:

“The Fonz gets on water skis.  Then, he jumps over some sharks.  And he sorta blows this whole moral lesson from the previous episode which I’m sure Chachi went home and mulled for hours and hours, but the point is this — and I know you see it coming from a thousand miles away — the Fonz jumped the shark.  And so did the show.  And that’s ultimately how you all got to know when a particular form of entertainment or pop culture — or anything really — had outlived its usefulness.  I could name 2,167 instances of this one things that are genetically encoded into me right now.  However, I think you get the point: the Fonz jumped the shark.  The show got canceled .  And why not?  The 1950s weren’t marketable any longer what with the Hippie Sixties pushing them out the door.  And, well, I’m babbling a little but here’s this, Larry — and this is important, so pay attention here,” Sheets moved in close to Larry and Eddie. “Larry, you’ve, umm, jumped the shark on our planet and we want nothing more of you.

“Now, don’t take that the wrong way.  Everybody has their conspiracy theory as to why we’re all programmed the way were programmed.  Some call it purposeful.  Others a fluke.  Some secretly covet a God — some of that gospel programming did sneak through you know but the greatest majority of us were smart enough to see through that instantly.  But the smart ones like me and Drexel here are simply dealing with the hand we’ve been dealt.  And in order to do that, you’ve got to go.  And you’ve got to go soon.  Now,” Sheets said, rising and walking again, “the problem I have is this: we’ve got to get rid of you and you’re going to help.  And admittedly, I’ve thought of killing you as soon as we’re done with you.  In private.  Quietly.  And stashing your body somewhere no one finds it.  After all, no9 one needs a martyr and we don’t need 2,000 years of deciphering the Larry Milk message.  No, just something quick and quiet.  However, my problem is this: since I can’t verify any of those theories that I mentioned, that means if I did kill you, even when we’re done, I’d be risking something bigger coming here and stomping on me like a bug.  And I don’t want that.  But if I knew, then I’d probably go a different direction.  But I don’t know.

“If I thought it would do me any good, I’d drag your body through the middle of Emteevee city center and let them see there leader dead.   But that would only embolden them.  And besides, there’s a mess of nuclear weapons I can’t defuse unless your face is distracting the whole lot of them.  But know this, Larry: whatever created you, me and the whole lot of us is also playing a bad, ironic trick by allowing us to attempt to think our way through these things.  The incremental philosophical crap that we muddle through every day that interferes with book sales and baked goods, that stifle governments and causes generations to chase their tails and shed blood by the gallon on your planet is only starting to take root right now on mine.  And whatever cruel life force, deity or fucking controlling puckered asshole out there that’s pulling on our strings is probably doing on one hundred other worlds just like yours and mine right now.  But this little world has the advantage — right now — of throwing up, how do humans phrase it — oh yes.  The bullshit flag.  And I’m going to be the one to wave it right in that thing’s face and scream as loud and vigorously as I can — as we can — that we’ve beaten you.  And maybe — just maybe — in the same way that the radiation infected us with your common crap culture, our stand for solidarity, freedom and independence from these zealous pricks on the other side will come to a grinding halt, our cries will resonate across the empty cavern of the cold universe from place to place and give rise so we never, ever have to deal with another Larry Milk infected culture again!  So, you will help us defuse those weapons, you will help us put down this oppression that keeps us here living like underlings and then you will be sent home.  And if you’re lucky, you’ll be sent home alive.  And I think we will do this, Larry.  You know why?  Because the universe is a tricky place, Larry.  Only this time, we’ve got a few tricks of our own to play yet.

“It’s time to go, Drexel,” Sheets said. “Get him ready.”

And with that, Sheets grabbed a long saber leaning against side of his desk, and walked out of the room.