A/N: Dennis the Menace was almost as wild as Calvin in his early years, though with the same kind-heartedness that the mischief-maker has now. The change in Dennis over 60-plus years, with other minor changes, show there are several generations of the comic strip. (Technology for one, more visible than in Peanuts; Mr. Wilson going from in his late 50s to married to Martha 53 years and in his 70s, showing a difference in what was considered elderly over the years'; Joey going from age 2.5 or 3 to 4, Margaret starting in his Kindergarten class and now in second grade, etc.) It's thus a bit different than the Peanuts Chronology I came up with where I figure the kids are born in the late '60s/early '70s once all characters were there. ("Imaginary Friends Forever 1 and 2, "It's the Senior Prom, Charlie Brown.")
Figuring it that way also lets one logically have him love cowboy stuff and knowing all those stars even in the '70s and '80s before the Internet. The first couple decades or so of comics could be from the childhood of the one born in the late '40s/early '50s, the next couple from one born in the early '70s, and the adventures of the 3rd one from 1990 or so onward. (And, you can almost imagine one being the dad of the other, though of course the dad is always named Henry. Even then, my grandpa went by his middle name…)
This shows that second one, and the early days of cable TV, when WTBS – which till 1979 was WTCG – first became a national cable station beamed via satellite (in '76). Without the ability to create lots of their own programs, the station got a lot of its programming via Westerns as well as old movies, and sitcoms. Of course, being 5, when Dennis hears abvout it, he sees the new Christmas gift differently. It's short, but I dont' know if I do the characters perfectly, though i tried.
Gift From Space
Aerospace engineer Henry Mitchell was on the phone with a local cable provider. "…So, you'll be able to start sending it? Great." After another moment on the phone, he hung up. "Guess what, Alice, we got it."
"Is this for Dennis, or for you?" Alice teased him lightly.
"Well," he confessed with a laugh, "I did always love that stuff growing up. But, really, I think Dennis will love it. He's just like I was, you know."
"A lot less fighting than you did, but almost as rambunctious," Alice kidded him.
Henry put an arm around her. "Maybe so. It's amazing, the world we live in, that we can get a gift like this via satellite."
Dennis couldn't help himself after having heard his parents talking after his dad had hung up. "Oh boy, are we getting somethin' for Christmas from a satellite?" the five-year-old shouted.
"Yes, we are, Son. It'll be starting a few days before Christmas."
"What is it?" Dennis demanded to know. When they wouldn't tell, he said, "Come on, give me a hint."
"Let's say you're going to see plenty of great stories," Henry said with a twinkle in his eye..
"Oh, boy, wait till I tell everyone," he declared before he sped off.
"What do you suppose he's thinking," Alice inquired, suspecting he was up to something.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Alice; it can't be that bad," Henry assured her.
Dennis ran over to the family's neighbors, the Wilsons, first. "Mr. Wilson," he shouted as he opened the Wilsons' front door.
"I happen to be right here," Mr. Wilson complained as he put down his paper, "not on a rocket ship to the moon."
Dennis stopped in his tracks. "I thought you useta be a mailman, not an astronaut."
"I was a mailman. I was referring to your voice, which was so loud I could have heard you if I had been on a rocket ship," Mr. Wilson explained gruffly.
Oblivious to the joke, Dennis' eyes grew wide. "Wow. I thought you had to use a special radio for that. 'Cause where my dad works he said they had to beam the signal to a satellite or something."
Mr. Wilson picked up his paper again, trying to ignore Dennis, who was by now bouncing in front of him. "I don't know how that stuff works."
"Well, we'll find out soon, 'cause we're getting something from a satellite for Christmas," Dennis declared as Mr. Wilson's wife, Martha, entered the room and greeted Dennis.
"Well, when you get it, maybe Buck Rogers can take you for a ride," Mr. Wilson kidded him.
"Who?"
Mrs. Wilson explained. "Buck Rogers was a famous space traveler in the comics when we were teenagers." He'd first appeared in 1928.
Mr. Wilson put his paper down again to reminisce. "Yes, he was from the 25th century. I never thought I would live to see even the space travel we have now. You kids are seeing things way ahead of anything I could have imagined. It was all just stories then."
"Wow. My dad said we'd see lots of cool stories, too. So, you think we might be getting a rocket ship?"
"I don't think you'd be getting a rocket ship, Dear," Mrs. Wilson said.
"But, it's somethin' with a satellite, I heard my dad say it," Dennis countered.
Mr. Wilson couldn't resist having a little fun. "Well, go get ready. And, when the space creatures contact you, be sure to let us know." Dennis left.
"Oh, George," Martha corrected him, "you didn't have to do that."
"Relax, Martha, he's got such an imagination, whatever it is he overheard will be nothing compared to what's in his mind already. My adding anything won't change that. Maybe he'll even grow up to write about things like Buck Rogers' creator did. Then he can buy a big fancy house away from here," he concluded.
Dennis knew his dad had told him lots of stories about Westerns and heroes from that era, but they didn't compare to some of the other stuff he'd heard. He'd even seen a cool science fiction show on one of their independent stations recently.
"Hey, Dennis," his friend Joey MacDonald hollered. The three-year-old and Dennis' friend Tommy were in a clubhouse.
"Hey, Joey. Did you get your list for Santa done yet?"
Joey had. Tommy had, too, he reported as a couple girls, Margaret and Gina – each older than Denis – walked toward them,. "I asked Satna that this be the year the Royals finally beat the Yankees," Tommy said, referring to their team which had lost in the American League Championship Series to New York.
"Guess what's we're getting something from a satellite. Maybe it'll even have some space aliens, like on Star Trek," Dennis spouted
"Oh, come on, that's just make believe," Margaret scoffed.
"Nuh-uh," Dennis countered, "we're getting something from a satellite. My dad said so. And, he said there's lots of stories, too."
"well, I suppose if you want to imagine Santa gets help from aliens…" Margaret trailed off in a somewhat sarcastic tone.
"Is that how Santa does it?" Joey asked Dennis.
"Sure it is, Joey," Dennis said with great confidence. "Spock's got pointed ears like an elf, after all."
"Spock, an elf? That is highly illogical," Margaret contended, putting her hands on her hips. She understood the term to mean something ridiculous; this wasn't quite what it meant, but it made sense that way to the young schoolgirl.
Gina was more adventuresome than Margaret, and with a bigger imagination. She pointed out that, "Santa could use warp speed to get to all those houses, you know. And, maybe he doesn't go down chimneys; maybe he just beams down with the presents in."
"See, Gina speaks my language," Dennis informed Margaret.
Trying to be the voice of reason between Dennis and Margaret, since she enjoyed them both, Gina added" "I'm gonna be Santa Claus with my parents when we take some food we bought to the soup kitchen. My mom and dad say anyone who gives stuff just out of kindness is being Santa Claus."
"I suppose," Margaret said reluctantly. She was willing to give a little. Trying to make her point to Dennis, though, she went a bit too far. "Just like doing something nice and not expecting any thanks is being the Lone Ranger. It doesn't mean he's real."
"Of course the Lone Ranger is real," Dennis exclaimed.
"Well, if he had been, those stories took place a hundred years ago!" Margaret stormed.
Dennis was too young, at only five, to really grasp such lengths of time yet. "So? My dad's probably at least that; he's been around a long time."
"Oh, your dad's probably not even forty," Margaret said.
Before Dennis could say that if so, his grandpa would be past one hundred, Joey interjected, "You said you got something from a satellite. What's a satellite?"
"That's something that flies around space. Just like on Star Trek," Dennis said.
Margaret was stunned. "A satellite isn't a spaceship, a satellite is a machine that beams pictures and things around the earth."
"Come on, Margaret, my dad said we'd get lots of stories. Nobody would write a story about that," Dennis said. "it's gotta be something a lot fancier. Or like Mr. Wilson said it could be Buck Rogers bringing aliens to see us."
"They wouldn't be really scary aliens, would they?" Joey asked worriedly.
Dennis shook his head. "Nah, my dad wouldn't let scary aliens into our house. They gotta be the friendly ones like Mr. Spock," he supposed.
"Well, if you do happen to meet Mr. Spock, I hope he talks some sense into you, because you are illogical," Margaret snapped as she walked off in a huff.
A few days later, the day Dennis knew the gift was arriving, he invited his friends over for the "big unveiling." "Hey, Mom," the five-year-old said as several kids stood behind him, redy to come inside. "When is it coming?"
"Er, why don't you go out back and play?" As the children hustled into the backyard, Alice snickered at the comedy which was sure to result from whatever Dennis had the others believing. Oh, well, at least here she could keep control of it. Or, at least as much control as one could have, with Dennis around.
Henry was stunned when he got home from work. "What's all this?"
"Well, Dear," Alice explained, "it seems we have a bunch of kids who Dennis has convinced are going to see aliens hop out of our television set."
"Dennis said they'll be friendly," Joey said, hoping they'd tell him he was right.
"I'm still not convinced," Margaret said. "But, I came over because I was curious about what this thing from space was, Mr. Mitchell."
Henry chuckled. "Well, something is getting sent from a satellite – but, I'm afraid it's only TV programs."
"Cool, so we get to see Buck Rogers," Dennis shouted.
Henry turned the TV on and turned to a channel that hadn't worked before. "It's WTCG from Atlanta."
"Dennis, was Buck Rogers from Atlanta?" Joey asked.
"I'm afraid it's only Westerns, Joey," Alice said.
"But, knowing Dennis, he'll have plenty of stories of his own about aliens. Maybe once you learn to write you can start on your way to being a professional writer," Henry remarked.
The next day, the Wilsons were talking soon after Dennis got home from school. "I wonder what the Mitchells had going on," Mr. Wilson said. "It seemed like he had the whole neighborhood there. Which means at least they weren't here," he quipped just before Dennis barged in, having changed into a cowboy outfit. "Oh, it's you. So, did Buck Rogers show up yesterday?"
"Nah, it was a new cable station that shows lotsa Westerns and stuff. It's from a long way away so you have to subscribe to it and get a satellite beam or something like that," Dennis explained. He thought Mr. Wilson would be disappointed, so he said, "But, don't worry. Guess what I'm gonna do?"
"Build a rocket ship yourself?" Mr. Wilson quipped.
"No; my dad says someday I could be a famous writer. So, I'm gonna make my own stories about space. And, you can be in them," Dennis said.
Martha smiled warmly and said, "I'm sure you'd make a wonderful author."
Mr. Wilson couldn't help but smile a little as he reminisced about his own childhood. "I suppose that isn't too bad; it would be fun to be a space explorer."
"You just wanna be a space explorer?" Dennis was genuinely shocked. "Gee, Mr. Wilson, I was gonna make you something really cool. I was gonna make you an alien!'
"Me, an alien?" Mr. Wilson sputtered a little. "Well… maybe with Star Trek's type that look like humans…"
"Everyone looks like people, though," Dennis contended. "Don't you think it'd be a lot cooler if I gave you tentacles and funny ears?" Mr. Wilson's shock grew as Dennis said, "And, how come aliens only have plain colors. Maybe you could have polka dots or stripes, Mr. Wilson!" Denis said enthusiastically, as if it would be the neatest thing in the world.
"I think you'll do a wonderful job, Dennis," Martha said to encourage him.
Mr. Wilson, however, was aghast. "What? Martha, he wants to give me tentacles! And polka dots!" He collapsed in his chair, unsure of what to say.
Years later, Dennis and his new wife gazed at the first batch of books – it wasn't many, and it wasn't likely he'd be a bestseller - it was hard for anyone - but he still could say he was published.
"The Wilsons are still at their old house," Dennis said. "I've got to send them one."
"Better write first and tell him you didn't give him tentacles," Gina teased lightly, with a twinkle in her eye.
Dennis enjoyed the banter – it was just like his parents had had when he was growing up, and still had. "You always knew how to speak my language. Although your maid of honor's cookies were pretty good, too."
"I'm glad you married me for more than my home made pizza," Gina quipped.
"Yep. I always felt different about you. You understand boys. Which means you'll make a great mom someday," Dennis said.
Gina held one of the books. "Did you really think you'd have space travelers coming that year your dad subscribed to TBS?" She only thought of it by the call letters it changed to a year or two after the Mitchells first subscribed.
"Sure. I just loved to have fun with that stuff." He smiled. "Dad was right about using my imagination."
"Yeah; the cool thing too is since we've each trusted Jesus as Savior we know we're going to Heaven and even here the Lord has helped with ideas. I don't know if we'll really explore space like this in the Millennium, but I'm glad I found someone like you to share the adventure," Gina said.
"Same here. And you helped give me ideas for how kids might handle it being born in space and stuff."
She smiled as she quipped, "Thankfully not quite as ornery as you were growing up, though."
"Yeah, maybe not. But, we keep having fun together, that's the important part," Dennis concluded.