Odorus Urungus

-7-

Tsubael and Akane were seated at one of the large tables of the otherwise empty mess hall. Each girl was dipping into a bowl of beige gruel with navy-issue utensils. They were engaged in conversation. Truth to tell, Tsubael was talking at Akane and Akane was reduced to nodding and mumbling "uh-huh" a lot.

Unexpectedly, Tsubael broke into song. She bobbed her head to and fro and warbled a silly tune in her own native Arume language. To Akane's untrained ear it sounded like "Heeble-Babble Ree-Bop, Zeeba-Dabba Doo-Bup, Verble-Werble-niggle-naggle, veep vop voop!"

When Tsubael finished, Akane took over the conversation. "That's a… lovely melody."

Tsubael leaned on her elbow and flashed a conspiratorial leer. "It's a hymn from our ancient sacred texts. Know what it's called?"

"No."

"LAST… MAN… STANDING!" Tsubael said with a cackle. "See back in the old days, we Arume were a lot like you guys. We had males. Males made all the decisions: Who got married to who, how women could dress, who to make war on in the name of their be-penised god. They basically fracked things up royally. But then, a series of miracles happened. You know what they were?"

"Nope."

"Stem cell research! In-vitro fertilization! Cloning! All of a sudden, men weren't necessary for reproduction! So one day one brave woman stood up and said to Arume-kind, 'Hey! We don't need 'em anymore! Let's bump the suckers off!'"

"Oh!"

"So we pulled off our skirts, put on some bloomers, wrested the MAN-made weapons from their makers and we hunted them down like, uh… like… what are those Earth animals that lick their own shit?"

"Dogs?"

"DOGS!" Tsubael yelled, "We hunted them down like dogs! And the last man standing, whose name translates into your language as 'Bin Laden' hid in a cave somewhere. We tracked him down and blew him off the map with a cruise missile shaped like… get this… a PENIS. Ha! And that's how the Arume liberated themselves from their stoopit, STOOPIT male counterparts. We introduced true civilization to our world at long last! So rather than fighting among ourselves, can you guess what we did?"

Akane hazarded a guess, "You flew around the galaxy and declared war on everyone else?"

Tsubael whooped, "GIVE THE GIRL A PRIZE!"

While Tsubael spoke, Akane solved the mystery behind the oddly familiar object fastened to Arume's hip. It was a flask of whiskey, and Tsubael took sip after greedy sip.

Tsubael let loose a ragged sigh, and Akane winced from the reek of hard liquor. Tsubael delivered a sloppy grin. "You know," she slurred, "I got a lot of grievances against you primitive, backward horime, but I'll say this in your favor: You sure can whip up some wicked sauce! Want some?"

Tsubael shoved the flask in Akane's face, but Akane waved it away. Tsubael shrugged and spilled two throatfuls into her gruel. She stirred it up, and sucked a serving off her spoon. "So who were we gonna talk about again?"

"Oromil," Akane prompted the tipsy Tsubael.

"OHHHHHH, RIGHT… So there she is," Tsubael rambled, "the fearless Lieutenant Oromil is in the weapons magazine storage poking her finger around some high explosives like they're… they're… what are those Earth fruits that look like hand grenades?"

Akane took a wild stab, "Pineapples?"

"PINEAPPLES! Pine… apples! That's exactly it! And I'm at the far end of the room behind a barricade and I'm screaming, 'Don't touch that, dummy! It's a live grenade!' And she says… merciful goddess… she picks one up and says, 'What, this thing?' and she pokes it. She POKES it! So I hit the deck, 'cause you know what happens next, right? I mean, you KNOW what happens next!"

Akane mumbled tentatively, "Aren't you gonna tell me…"

Tsubael sweeps her arms out and yells, "BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!" Tsubael continued her drama by beating on the table with her fist. "BA-BOOM! BA-BOOM! BA-BOOM! The whole magazine goes up! BA-BOOM! BA-BOOM! BAH-FRACKING-BOOM!"

Tsubael then shook her spoon in Akane's face. "By the time fire control shows up, I'm screaming that I lost my hearing, and brave, brave Lieutenant OATMEAL? There isn't enough left of her to fill a little girl's shoebox!"

Beneath the table, Akane's hands ball into fists. I may very well have to beat my way out of this room, she thought…

…because Tsubael leaned over the table and got in Akane's face. "You horime, OHHH you horime! You go around thinking you're the pinnacle of evolution on Earth. You're not, by the way. Blue ribbon goes to the dolphins… but you damn horime think you're so damn bright. But I've had to sit at my post – for the greater glory of the Arume Empire – and tune into your STUPID programming, your Aitch-Dee-Tee-Vee, and what do you have to show for yourselves? WHAT?"

"I'm still carrying pepper spray," Akane warned Tsubael.

"JERRY SPRINGER!" Tsubael roared. "SURVIVOR! TYRA BANKS! You sent a man to the moon – why you didn't send a woman, I'll never know – but you landed on your own moon. You sent probes into space claiming there was intelligent life on your world. We found your probes and we show up and what do you have to say for yourselves?" Tsubael made a face, "Doy-duh-doy-doy-doy American Idol Der-dee-dur Paris Hilton Nerp-ee-nerp-nerp JAR JAR TYRA BINKS! THAT'S why our crew went insane, and THAT'S why we killed each other!"

Tsubael slumped back into her seat and her eyes rolled into her head. Akane prayed that she'd fall off her chair and she'd be free to track down Mari. Maybe, hopefully…

But no, Tsubael up righted herself, let out a noxious belch and fixed her gaze on Akane. "But you know something? We ain't all that bright either, us Arume. I mean, consider my fearless friend, the dearly departed what's-her-face and her grenade juggling routine. TOTAL DUMMY. Our boss, with her philandering ways, TOTAL DUMMY. I think the Imperial Navy picked the good ship Blue to stuff all the dummies away. One problem: They put me in along with 'em."

Tsubael sighed, "Goes to show you, no matter where you go in this great big ol' galaxy, stupidity abounds. You can learn to travel faster than light, visit strange new worlds and you're still just a bunch of semi-educated dummies visiting another bunch of dummies and you mingle and create a race of… what? I ask you, Akane m'dear? What?"

Akane shrugged, "Dummies?"

"Girl gets a prize," Tsubael slurred.

Akane hitched her thoughts on one of Tsubael's recent statements. "What was that you said about your commander being a philander… er, philanderess?"

"Ohhh, she's probably screwing your little girlfriend right about now."

"WHAT?"

"Which is what I say! We're here to conquer this little blue… DROP, and all she can think of are her SEXUAL conquests."

Akane was about to rise from her seat when a familiar figure entered the room: Azanael.

Tsubael began to giggle, "Well look who flew in – the life of the party herself! Hey, come on over, grab a seat!" Tsubael plunged her spoon into the gruel, scooped up a dollop and waved it seductively at Azanael. "We're having your favorite… DISH."

Akane observed Azanael's face as the pale faced warrior's eyes scanned the spoon. Akane saw a color come to Azanael's cheeks – volcanic red rage.

Akane looked at the spoon, then at her own bowl of gruel and felt the floor give from under her feet.

It was OATMEAL.