Rayman: Hands and Feet Scramble- Chapter 5
Characters created by Michel Ancel
Written by Andrew Kaiko
I am of no relation to the production or post-production team, and so, I do not own the characters and all related subjects. Rayman is © 2002 Ubi Soft Entertainment. The character of Rayman and all other characters and subjects are all trademarks of Ubi Soft Entertainment. All rights reserved.
Chapter 5
The robotic hands were ever hard at work in the factory. They didn't mind. Even though they were capable of showing a little emotion, they had no brain, and so, didn't need breaks.
But as for the factory workers, it was an endless cycle. Nothing changed in the sterile environment, and Boble, who had been working there for some time now, lifted his hand off the assembly line in a jerky movement, and stared into space. Today was the day he had forgotten how long he had been here! And how could he not? There were no windows to show the sun and moon, no calendars, no signals, no bells for breaks, no clocks. It was as if the entire concept of time had been completely ignored.
So, the only way the workmen could tell when their breaks were, was to decide if they were too tired to concentrate. If they were, they would take a break on their own accord, which meant that there was no guarantee there would be someone else on break to talk to at the same time.
Boble found it difficult to work in the position he was put in- packaging. Packaging was usually reserved for the fastest and brightest workmen, because it was the position that required the most things to do in the smallest amount of time! At least five things could be going on at once. They included taping, holding the flaps in place, reaching above for the reinforcements hanging directly above their heads, placing the warp inside the packages, and putting them back on the assembly line. Also, the belts were going at fast speeds, so much that Boble found himself dealing with three packages at once!
He did have at least a bit of understanding for why Madame put him in this position and not others. This would be a great opportunity to learn how to use his ear-hands and tail hand. That was really the only thing motivating him to stay here, and did give him more exercise than he ever could've gotten back home.
But still, his basic emotion right now was silent desolation. Clearly, his planet had been gone by now. And no matter what, the day that Madame would put him in the Chopper awaited him... any time now! The dreaded event could take place when he's old and gray- it could take place after he finished this shift! How was he to tell?! He was at a blind alley. Not a moment went by where his heart wasn't beating at a fast rate.
Finally, he couldn't focus on the job anymore, and decided to take a short break. His legs weak from standing for so long, and when he placed his body onto a nearby seat, he felt like they weren't there at all.
He looked around the room to get his eyes focused on far distances than on close objects. The first thing he noticed wasn't how each object in the factory looked. It was how many of these things there were! Innumerable amounts of not only products, but of factory workers, steel bridges, pipes, machines, robots, hands, carts, boxes, spare parts left littered on the sides of the walls... For the first time, he noticed that this place hasn't been cleaned up in months!
Everyone is so concentrated on distributing so many of their items, he thought, that they are missing how they look!
Indeed, Boble got a chance to examine some of the products he had to package, out of boredom. He found that they were of very poor quality. If Madame wanted to impress consumers, the only thing impressive about this whole planet was the apparent fact that everyone was more serious about quantity than quality. If so, why did more and more consumers come? What made their business so great?
Finally, when we was refreshed, Boble got back on his feet and back to the 'ol assembly board. His ear-hands and tail hand were struggling to break out of their baby grasp, but they still didn't budge.
How long will this last?, he thought.
Or maybe, the question should be, exactly how much am I doing?
------
High noon.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Nothing moved in that vast, hot desert in the middle of nowhere! Maybe except for a tumbleweed or two rollin' by. Okay, and maybe except those three dehydrated organisms lying in the middle of a sand dune!
Ly the flamingo was the first to regain what energy she had left. She coughed for a while, and her voice was hoarse and soft. "We...we gotta' find civilization quick. Flamingos can't take this kind of environment."
"Ha! I thought a day ago was the last time you would say that," said Murfy the spider, barely visible in the surface of the sand.
"I just KNOW that book mentioned something about finding the nearest passenger launch port on the other side of the mountains!"
"You just DON'T GIVE UP, do you?! We are gonna die! Die, I tell you!"
"You're right. Maybe I don't know when to quit! But you have no idea how Rayman's absence affects us all! We can't give up! Maybe, if we had taken that left turn..."
"Or maybe if Globox hadn't left the flippin' last water bottle for himself! Some heroic Clydesdale!"
Globox, on his side, looked the most adapted to this environment. "Hey, a big guy like Globox the wild Clydesdale gets VERY thirsty, VERY quickly!"
Ly added, "Well, it's a good thing he still has the wand! Globox, get that thing out! I've had it with this body!"
"Globox the wild Clydesdale complies to his mistress's request," He craned his head back to his side, and rummaged through his bag to get the wand. Finally, he had between his teeth the wand. He carefully placed the wand beside Ly's wing. She struggled to lift her wing, but soon had the wand in her grasp, and swung it at herself.
In a poof, she got her fairy figure back! "Huh! Whaddya' know!" She pointed it at the other two, who also became themselves again. "I wonder what I did different that time..."
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud humming sound coming from above.
"Do you hear that?"
"Why is the ground getting darker in a suspiciously spaceship-shaped, expanding shadow?" said Murfy, with a dry, crusty tongue tied into a knot.
A small faint dot in the sky grew bigger and bigger at an exponential rate! "Oh... my... GUYS! RUN!" They all got up and stumbled over each other, dispersing from the three sand angels they made! The sand angels were no more, once they were blown away by the impact of a huge metal spacecraft! The impact sent an enormous amount of sand whirling through the air, radiating outward, carrying the three into the air in somersaults, and hitting them into the sand!
Once the sand cleared in the air, the hatch doors flew open in a very rusty and awkward fashion, and out landed a round form, out of which came loud grunt. The form gathered itself up on two haphazardly shinny stumpy legs, supported a plump body in red and black clothing, designed in a plaid pattern. It shook its head, and, having trouble bending forward, tried to find its cap. After a few minutes, a green baseball cap was placed on top of the figure's small head, and it crawled out from underneath the ship. Standing with as straight a posture as it could get between all the fat, it examined the ship as if admiring it.
"Well, gosh dermit! Looks lahk O'l Betsy done hurtn' self sumthin' bad. Welp, nothin' lahk some ol' Windex won't— who goes there?"
He scanned the horizontal orange landscape for about 100 degrees counter- clockwise, until he noticed a pair of hands waving out of the dunes. One was slim and yellow with purple stripes. The other was stumpy and blue. He raced over to the hands, and grabbed what was attached to them out of the sand, waterfalling tons of specks off of the figures. Ly and Globox coughed and coughed- they couldn't even open their eyes!
"Woah, WO-HOHOHOAH! Lemme' getting' that there hanky-cheef fer one sec offa' minute!" He grabbed a moist hankerchief from his jean pocket, and wiped their faces. Ly bright eyes revealed themselves.
"Well, what's a purty damsel lahk you doin' out in these here parts?"
Ly tried to speak, but she still had some grains in her throat.
Murfy managed to speak first. "She's with us, Mister! And the next time you crash land your ve-hickle on a planet, take the time to look for a good area to crash first!"
"Well, perdon me, mah' good sir, but would one take the tahm to considah' the chances of findin' a space. given the available time of a particulah' victim in the middle of a crash land—"
"Okay, okay! You made your point! You don't have to go all Einstein on me, Misterrrr-uhhhh..."
"Trucker. Mr. Trucker."
Murfy made a contorted face. "Uh, yeah, okay. Trucker. I guess I don't have to know what you do for a living, huh? Ha ha ha ha... haaaa."
"Do you guys, uh, wanna' go in mah' ship ta' re-joo-vinate?"
Ly could speak now. "Mr. Trucker, that's very kind of you, but I think we're safer out here than in the state that your vehicle is in now."
"Suit yerselves. Welp, here's some pick-you-ups, at least." He tossed a big water bottle into Globox's hands, to his delight. "Was he the wisest choice to hand that to?" ask Murfy.
"Welp, ya'll best git outta' thisere' desert soon. It don't git much cooler at night, ya' know. God speed!" He then turned and walked back toward his ship, about to get out the toolbox.
Murfy popped himself out of the pile of sand, and reactivated his wings. "HEY! SHE WAS WRONG! WE CAN USE YOUR HELP!"
Ly gave him an accused look. "Murfy! Did you take a look at that guy?! Dirty, sloppy... I wouldn't trust him if he gave me money!"
"He gave us water!" pointed out Globox, already gulping it down like the Dickens.
Murfy shook the insect debris off of his robe. "Hey, Ly! You see an accident waiting to happen! I, however, see an opportunity waiting for us to take flippin' advantage of! So... Mr. Trucker. Can you take a hand-full of weary, worn-out travelers to the shopping planet?"
Trucker turned around. "Welp, sure! As soon as ah' find out where ah' am now..."
"You DO know where you are, isn't that right?"
"Nope. We wanderin' truckers never got none in terms a' travel skills n' a big edgimication."
"Uh-huh. Well, I guess it just runs in every circle of friends," Murfy said half to himself. "SO. Can you take us there?"
The trucker scratched his waist, and straightened himself as if he just woke up. "The ship? Welp, she may not look lahk much, but she's dependable as an ol' Cocker Spaniel an' sturdier than a wagon on' th' ol' Originie Trail! Hee hee! Those were the good days..."
"Did- did you even hear a word I said?"
Globox unstrapped the saddle he still had on. "MMF! Murfy, I think he's tired. All alone in that big void of darkness... I know I would be bored after a while."
"Wait!" Ly jumped in. "That spacecraft can fly HOW far?"
"Welp, ah' reckon the lass can stand a few trillion light years on 'er if she's full o' gas. But ifn' yer plannin' on takin' 'er, she won't fly very far. Right now, she's near empty! That's why ah'm on this planet."
"We're not planning on taking... 'her'. We want YOU to take US with you!"
"To the... wait, where didja' say?"
"To the only planet in the universe covered in commercial property! You DO know where that is, right?"
"Take... you?"
"YES, 'TAKE US'!"
"... you mean... actually GO somewhere?"
-----
"BOBLE! I VONT YOU EEN MY OFFICE NOW!"
It was like a bolt of lightning, smashing the silence into shreds! Boble cowered in agony at the sound- he had been so adjusted to silence now that finally hearing someone else's voice was like a disturbance in the balance of nature! Not to mention it made his ears ache.
Where was the exit door again? No, not there... Was it even on this floor? Oh, wait there it is!
He raced toward the door, and, now that his leg muscles were stronger, galloped up toward the maze of dark brown stairways with a speed that could rival a cheetah. Within minutes, he stormed into Madame's office with as professional an entrance he could muster between his panting.
Madame Inutile, who was now decked up in another of her fancy clothing, raised her head from her desk, expecting him. Was this the 15th blue dress she had? I'd love to take a look at her wardrobe... if only for the size of it.
"Very good. I see you are getting faster. Eet ees time for your check- up!"
In the next several hours (yes, that's how long it was- Boble had no idea how long it's been) since spending practically introverted servitude in the factory, Boble's experience had become a bit more active. Madame gave Boble a check-up every now and then to see how well his limbs were developing. Unfortunately, she never told him her schedule for the check- ups, which kept Boble in timelessness.
"Mmhmm. Yes, I see your legs and arms are much stronger now. However, eet disappointments mee zat your three unique limbs are still underdeveloped! How could zey be?! You have been in their long enough- zey should be free by now!"
Boble would've responded if his throat weren't weak from lack of using his vocal cords.
"Get back down there and keep vorking! I'll bet yew are happy that yew stay in the factory longer, no? Not having to vorry about the dreaded Chopper for long, no? Vell, that's good! Because I STILL von't tell you when the Chopper vill be! To be vithout Time eez to live life to zee present! No?"
Boble nodded his head. He found this surprisingly comforting.
"Good. Now GET BACK TO VORK!"
As if willingly. Boble raced back the way he came, just as fast.
Madame then strolled back to her desk, and... took out a rusted pocket watch!
"Yew vill be only MINE, little watch! No one vill know the truth..."
-----
The stars were all clear in the starry sphere, enclosing the old spacecraft sailing... precariously... through it. A loud chuck chuck chuck rattled in the room-sized muffler in the rear. The trucker had filled the ship up with more gas after they found a station, but still, at one point or another, Ly could've sworn she felt it loosing altitude!
"That's just the 'ol turb-U-lance, rustlin' up sum trouble!"
"You said it would end two hours ago!"
"And ANOTHER one'll fla' ba', raht afta' the otha'. Ifn' yer bored, go upstairs."
The towel felt like such a relief, but even with hot water soaked into it, it still wasn't comfortable enough. The trucker continued to steer at the helm, if you could call reclining at a –50 degree angle and guiding the bottom of the wheel with your big toe steering.
Stepping upstairs, it got a bit mustier. She could hear Globox just coming out of the shower, which was, surprisingly, the cleanest room in the ship. Murfy was reading the book they got back at the occult shop. Lots of Windex was kept in a closet in piles, the door left open. Clearly, this trucker didn't invite people often.
Moisture popped out of the door hatch, letting out steam and a refreshed blue waddler in a white blanket. "I feel at home again!"
"At least ONE of us does," muttered Murfy, not looking up at the book.
Ly cleaned herself some more with the blanket, and tied it around herself. She then slumped down next to Murfy, who appeared to be completely engrossed in what he was reading. "Hey, Fairy—"
"LY!"
"Right, right. Fairy, I think I've found out why the launch port wasn't where the quack said it was! It was built before the last millennia, right?"
"Right..."
"Says here they demolished all the old ports that didn't go by the new regulations made in the turn of the century. And why? Because the Neotopian council needed more MONEY, JUST like they always do! It's their reputation!"
"Murfy... is that book an authorized edition?"
They were interrupted by the trucker's footsteps coming upstairs. "Money is the route of all EEE-vil."
"You heard what we were talking about? Who's driving?"
"She's on autopilot. Sigh... Ah' nevah' trusted the council. Wha', in MAH' day, we just went with what we had, 'n no more."
Ly and Murfy fell silent for a while. Globox appeared oblivious to what they were talking about, darting here and there, and admiring the cheap stuff the trucker had around the ship. Clanking and clunking ambience filled their conversation.
"...then, thanks for giving us this lift, Mr. Trucker. I guess you won't accept anything from us in return?"
Mr. Trucker lightly moved his head left, then right, grinning a bit.
Globox finally joined in the conversation, lugging the loot he got from the walls, which was now half bare.
"GLOBO—"
"Now, now. Ah'll deal with it." Mr. Trucker approached Globox slowly. Globox, who expected a pounding, flinched and dropped the loot on the floor. "Please! Don't impale me! I wanna' live!"
"Ah' won' hurt ya' none. Ah' couldn't resist mah' curiosity when I was your..."
"Officially, I'm 60 years old!"
He feel silent. "Uh... just- just practice self-control, Son."
A new turbulence shook the ship for about a few more seconds.
"Th' turb-U-lance's occurin' more frequently! If we gotta' git t' where eva' you're goin', we gotta' fahnd an alternate route!"
"We gotta' get to the commercial planet! Don't you remember?!"
"Wha', no. Wonder wha' ah' don't..."
Ly and Murfy were both running down the stairs, followed by Mr. Trucker. Suddenly, the large trucker halted in his tracks, bumping the other two backward into Globox's rubbery stomach! "OH! AH' KNOW WHA'! Because ah' jotted on mah' cal-IAND-er t' avoid that planet today!"
"WHAT?! Why?!"
"Because it's gonna' be crowded! They're having a BIG SALE this month!"
Ly was suddenly as frantic as she had been when she first saw Rayman kidnapped! "SALE?!!?"
Murfy said, "What's the matter, Fairy? Everyone likes sales!"
"RAYMAN'S there! Mr. Trucker, how long has this sale lasted?!"
"It's almost ova'!"
Without thinking, Ly zipped to the wheel, and hit the accelerator!"
"Hey! N-now, Lady, ah'm the only one who knows howta—"
"WE GOTTA' GET TO THAT SALE BEFORE IT ENDS! THE REDUCED PRICES! THE SECOND ITEMS FREE!"
Murfy brightened! "I LIKE your THINKING!"
"WE GOTTA' GO AND RESCUE RAYMAN!"
"Yeah, the reduced prices, the—wait, what's this about Rayman?"
Mr. Trucker displayed horror in front of his guests for the first time, as he watched Ly's foot slamming the accelerator! In response, everything loose flew backwards into the room at the end, or against the walls! Even Globox and Murfy got plastered against the wall!
"MY SWEET BETSY!!!!"
Murfy spoke through his clenched teeth. "At least we're on our way."
-----
"I told yew to get zee red wire into zee red socket!"
"I'LL give you a sock-eet!"
Achat and Vente were arguing over the controls that operated one of the machines.
"Look! I am, how yew say, VERY annoyed! Madame vonted us to find out vot's wrong with the machine, and yew are putting the red wire in the wrong socket, I tell you!"
"No! THAT one eez the wrong socket! THEEZ one eez the right one because eet has the little thing on the top!"
"Don't lay zat technical jargon on ME—OOP!"
Vente accidentally shoved Achat's arm backwards, letting the wire fly in the air! Spinning out in the open, it then ricocheted against various parts of the pipes, down into the main factory room, and plopped down onto an assembly line in motion! That assembly line happened to be carrying a line of Raymanian heads, all paralyzed. The workers were on break, and had their back turned toward it.
What a perfect coincidence for that wire to land on top of one of the heads! Electrocuting it, the head was now back alive! But before it could see the workers to its right, it was already down the dark shoot at the other end of the assembly line, and lay there on a pile of other heads.
It spoke. "BOBLE! WHERE AM I?!"
(to be continued)
Characters created by Michel Ancel
Written by Andrew Kaiko
I am of no relation to the production or post-production team, and so, I do not own the characters and all related subjects. Rayman is © 2002 Ubi Soft Entertainment. The character of Rayman and all other characters and subjects are all trademarks of Ubi Soft Entertainment. All rights reserved.
Chapter 5
The robotic hands were ever hard at work in the factory. They didn't mind. Even though they were capable of showing a little emotion, they had no brain, and so, didn't need breaks.
But as for the factory workers, it was an endless cycle. Nothing changed in the sterile environment, and Boble, who had been working there for some time now, lifted his hand off the assembly line in a jerky movement, and stared into space. Today was the day he had forgotten how long he had been here! And how could he not? There were no windows to show the sun and moon, no calendars, no signals, no bells for breaks, no clocks. It was as if the entire concept of time had been completely ignored.
So, the only way the workmen could tell when their breaks were, was to decide if they were too tired to concentrate. If they were, they would take a break on their own accord, which meant that there was no guarantee there would be someone else on break to talk to at the same time.
Boble found it difficult to work in the position he was put in- packaging. Packaging was usually reserved for the fastest and brightest workmen, because it was the position that required the most things to do in the smallest amount of time! At least five things could be going on at once. They included taping, holding the flaps in place, reaching above for the reinforcements hanging directly above their heads, placing the warp inside the packages, and putting them back on the assembly line. Also, the belts were going at fast speeds, so much that Boble found himself dealing with three packages at once!
He did have at least a bit of understanding for why Madame put him in this position and not others. This would be a great opportunity to learn how to use his ear-hands and tail hand. That was really the only thing motivating him to stay here, and did give him more exercise than he ever could've gotten back home.
But still, his basic emotion right now was silent desolation. Clearly, his planet had been gone by now. And no matter what, the day that Madame would put him in the Chopper awaited him... any time now! The dreaded event could take place when he's old and gray- it could take place after he finished this shift! How was he to tell?! He was at a blind alley. Not a moment went by where his heart wasn't beating at a fast rate.
Finally, he couldn't focus on the job anymore, and decided to take a short break. His legs weak from standing for so long, and when he placed his body onto a nearby seat, he felt like they weren't there at all.
He looked around the room to get his eyes focused on far distances than on close objects. The first thing he noticed wasn't how each object in the factory looked. It was how many of these things there were! Innumerable amounts of not only products, but of factory workers, steel bridges, pipes, machines, robots, hands, carts, boxes, spare parts left littered on the sides of the walls... For the first time, he noticed that this place hasn't been cleaned up in months!
Everyone is so concentrated on distributing so many of their items, he thought, that they are missing how they look!
Indeed, Boble got a chance to examine some of the products he had to package, out of boredom. He found that they were of very poor quality. If Madame wanted to impress consumers, the only thing impressive about this whole planet was the apparent fact that everyone was more serious about quantity than quality. If so, why did more and more consumers come? What made their business so great?
Finally, when we was refreshed, Boble got back on his feet and back to the 'ol assembly board. His ear-hands and tail hand were struggling to break out of their baby grasp, but they still didn't budge.
How long will this last?, he thought.
Or maybe, the question should be, exactly how much am I doing?
------
High noon.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Nothing moved in that vast, hot desert in the middle of nowhere! Maybe except for a tumbleweed or two rollin' by. Okay, and maybe except those three dehydrated organisms lying in the middle of a sand dune!
Ly the flamingo was the first to regain what energy she had left. She coughed for a while, and her voice was hoarse and soft. "We...we gotta' find civilization quick. Flamingos can't take this kind of environment."
"Ha! I thought a day ago was the last time you would say that," said Murfy the spider, barely visible in the surface of the sand.
"I just KNOW that book mentioned something about finding the nearest passenger launch port on the other side of the mountains!"
"You just DON'T GIVE UP, do you?! We are gonna die! Die, I tell you!"
"You're right. Maybe I don't know when to quit! But you have no idea how Rayman's absence affects us all! We can't give up! Maybe, if we had taken that left turn..."
"Or maybe if Globox hadn't left the flippin' last water bottle for himself! Some heroic Clydesdale!"
Globox, on his side, looked the most adapted to this environment. "Hey, a big guy like Globox the wild Clydesdale gets VERY thirsty, VERY quickly!"
Ly added, "Well, it's a good thing he still has the wand! Globox, get that thing out! I've had it with this body!"
"Globox the wild Clydesdale complies to his mistress's request," He craned his head back to his side, and rummaged through his bag to get the wand. Finally, he had between his teeth the wand. He carefully placed the wand beside Ly's wing. She struggled to lift her wing, but soon had the wand in her grasp, and swung it at herself.
In a poof, she got her fairy figure back! "Huh! Whaddya' know!" She pointed it at the other two, who also became themselves again. "I wonder what I did different that time..."
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud humming sound coming from above.
"Do you hear that?"
"Why is the ground getting darker in a suspiciously spaceship-shaped, expanding shadow?" said Murfy, with a dry, crusty tongue tied into a knot.
A small faint dot in the sky grew bigger and bigger at an exponential rate! "Oh... my... GUYS! RUN!" They all got up and stumbled over each other, dispersing from the three sand angels they made! The sand angels were no more, once they were blown away by the impact of a huge metal spacecraft! The impact sent an enormous amount of sand whirling through the air, radiating outward, carrying the three into the air in somersaults, and hitting them into the sand!
Once the sand cleared in the air, the hatch doors flew open in a very rusty and awkward fashion, and out landed a round form, out of which came loud grunt. The form gathered itself up on two haphazardly shinny stumpy legs, supported a plump body in red and black clothing, designed in a plaid pattern. It shook its head, and, having trouble bending forward, tried to find its cap. After a few minutes, a green baseball cap was placed on top of the figure's small head, and it crawled out from underneath the ship. Standing with as straight a posture as it could get between all the fat, it examined the ship as if admiring it.
"Well, gosh dermit! Looks lahk O'l Betsy done hurtn' self sumthin' bad. Welp, nothin' lahk some ol' Windex won't— who goes there?"
He scanned the horizontal orange landscape for about 100 degrees counter- clockwise, until he noticed a pair of hands waving out of the dunes. One was slim and yellow with purple stripes. The other was stumpy and blue. He raced over to the hands, and grabbed what was attached to them out of the sand, waterfalling tons of specks off of the figures. Ly and Globox coughed and coughed- they couldn't even open their eyes!
"Woah, WO-HOHOHOAH! Lemme' getting' that there hanky-cheef fer one sec offa' minute!" He grabbed a moist hankerchief from his jean pocket, and wiped their faces. Ly bright eyes revealed themselves.
"Well, what's a purty damsel lahk you doin' out in these here parts?"
Ly tried to speak, but she still had some grains in her throat.
Murfy managed to speak first. "She's with us, Mister! And the next time you crash land your ve-hickle on a planet, take the time to look for a good area to crash first!"
"Well, perdon me, mah' good sir, but would one take the tahm to considah' the chances of findin' a space. given the available time of a particulah' victim in the middle of a crash land—"
"Okay, okay! You made your point! You don't have to go all Einstein on me, Misterrrr-uhhhh..."
"Trucker. Mr. Trucker."
Murfy made a contorted face. "Uh, yeah, okay. Trucker. I guess I don't have to know what you do for a living, huh? Ha ha ha ha... haaaa."
"Do you guys, uh, wanna' go in mah' ship ta' re-joo-vinate?"
Ly could speak now. "Mr. Trucker, that's very kind of you, but I think we're safer out here than in the state that your vehicle is in now."
"Suit yerselves. Welp, here's some pick-you-ups, at least." He tossed a big water bottle into Globox's hands, to his delight. "Was he the wisest choice to hand that to?" ask Murfy.
"Welp, ya'll best git outta' thisere' desert soon. It don't git much cooler at night, ya' know. God speed!" He then turned and walked back toward his ship, about to get out the toolbox.
Murfy popped himself out of the pile of sand, and reactivated his wings. "HEY! SHE WAS WRONG! WE CAN USE YOUR HELP!"
Ly gave him an accused look. "Murfy! Did you take a look at that guy?! Dirty, sloppy... I wouldn't trust him if he gave me money!"
"He gave us water!" pointed out Globox, already gulping it down like the Dickens.
Murfy shook the insect debris off of his robe. "Hey, Ly! You see an accident waiting to happen! I, however, see an opportunity waiting for us to take flippin' advantage of! So... Mr. Trucker. Can you take a hand-full of weary, worn-out travelers to the shopping planet?"
Trucker turned around. "Welp, sure! As soon as ah' find out where ah' am now..."
"You DO know where you are, isn't that right?"
"Nope. We wanderin' truckers never got none in terms a' travel skills n' a big edgimication."
"Uh-huh. Well, I guess it just runs in every circle of friends," Murfy said half to himself. "SO. Can you take us there?"
The trucker scratched his waist, and straightened himself as if he just woke up. "The ship? Welp, she may not look lahk much, but she's dependable as an ol' Cocker Spaniel an' sturdier than a wagon on' th' ol' Originie Trail! Hee hee! Those were the good days..."
"Did- did you even hear a word I said?"
Globox unstrapped the saddle he still had on. "MMF! Murfy, I think he's tired. All alone in that big void of darkness... I know I would be bored after a while."
"Wait!" Ly jumped in. "That spacecraft can fly HOW far?"
"Welp, ah' reckon the lass can stand a few trillion light years on 'er if she's full o' gas. But ifn' yer plannin' on takin' 'er, she won't fly very far. Right now, she's near empty! That's why ah'm on this planet."
"We're not planning on taking... 'her'. We want YOU to take US with you!"
"To the... wait, where didja' say?"
"To the only planet in the universe covered in commercial property! You DO know where that is, right?"
"Take... you?"
"YES, 'TAKE US'!"
"... you mean... actually GO somewhere?"
-----
"BOBLE! I VONT YOU EEN MY OFFICE NOW!"
It was like a bolt of lightning, smashing the silence into shreds! Boble cowered in agony at the sound- he had been so adjusted to silence now that finally hearing someone else's voice was like a disturbance in the balance of nature! Not to mention it made his ears ache.
Where was the exit door again? No, not there... Was it even on this floor? Oh, wait there it is!
He raced toward the door, and, now that his leg muscles were stronger, galloped up toward the maze of dark brown stairways with a speed that could rival a cheetah. Within minutes, he stormed into Madame's office with as professional an entrance he could muster between his panting.
Madame Inutile, who was now decked up in another of her fancy clothing, raised her head from her desk, expecting him. Was this the 15th blue dress she had? I'd love to take a look at her wardrobe... if only for the size of it.
"Very good. I see you are getting faster. Eet ees time for your check- up!"
In the next several hours (yes, that's how long it was- Boble had no idea how long it's been) since spending practically introverted servitude in the factory, Boble's experience had become a bit more active. Madame gave Boble a check-up every now and then to see how well his limbs were developing. Unfortunately, she never told him her schedule for the check- ups, which kept Boble in timelessness.
"Mmhmm. Yes, I see your legs and arms are much stronger now. However, eet disappointments mee zat your three unique limbs are still underdeveloped! How could zey be?! You have been in their long enough- zey should be free by now!"
Boble would've responded if his throat weren't weak from lack of using his vocal cords.
"Get back down there and keep vorking! I'll bet yew are happy that yew stay in the factory longer, no? Not having to vorry about the dreaded Chopper for long, no? Vell, that's good! Because I STILL von't tell you when the Chopper vill be! To be vithout Time eez to live life to zee present! No?"
Boble nodded his head. He found this surprisingly comforting.
"Good. Now GET BACK TO VORK!"
As if willingly. Boble raced back the way he came, just as fast.
Madame then strolled back to her desk, and... took out a rusted pocket watch!
"Yew vill be only MINE, little watch! No one vill know the truth..."
-----
The stars were all clear in the starry sphere, enclosing the old spacecraft sailing... precariously... through it. A loud chuck chuck chuck rattled in the room-sized muffler in the rear. The trucker had filled the ship up with more gas after they found a station, but still, at one point or another, Ly could've sworn she felt it loosing altitude!
"That's just the 'ol turb-U-lance, rustlin' up sum trouble!"
"You said it would end two hours ago!"
"And ANOTHER one'll fla' ba', raht afta' the otha'. Ifn' yer bored, go upstairs."
The towel felt like such a relief, but even with hot water soaked into it, it still wasn't comfortable enough. The trucker continued to steer at the helm, if you could call reclining at a –50 degree angle and guiding the bottom of the wheel with your big toe steering.
Stepping upstairs, it got a bit mustier. She could hear Globox just coming out of the shower, which was, surprisingly, the cleanest room in the ship. Murfy was reading the book they got back at the occult shop. Lots of Windex was kept in a closet in piles, the door left open. Clearly, this trucker didn't invite people often.
Moisture popped out of the door hatch, letting out steam and a refreshed blue waddler in a white blanket. "I feel at home again!"
"At least ONE of us does," muttered Murfy, not looking up at the book.
Ly cleaned herself some more with the blanket, and tied it around herself. She then slumped down next to Murfy, who appeared to be completely engrossed in what he was reading. "Hey, Fairy—"
"LY!"
"Right, right. Fairy, I think I've found out why the launch port wasn't where the quack said it was! It was built before the last millennia, right?"
"Right..."
"Says here they demolished all the old ports that didn't go by the new regulations made in the turn of the century. And why? Because the Neotopian council needed more MONEY, JUST like they always do! It's their reputation!"
"Murfy... is that book an authorized edition?"
They were interrupted by the trucker's footsteps coming upstairs. "Money is the route of all EEE-vil."
"You heard what we were talking about? Who's driving?"
"She's on autopilot. Sigh... Ah' nevah' trusted the council. Wha', in MAH' day, we just went with what we had, 'n no more."
Ly and Murfy fell silent for a while. Globox appeared oblivious to what they were talking about, darting here and there, and admiring the cheap stuff the trucker had around the ship. Clanking and clunking ambience filled their conversation.
"...then, thanks for giving us this lift, Mr. Trucker. I guess you won't accept anything from us in return?"
Mr. Trucker lightly moved his head left, then right, grinning a bit.
Globox finally joined in the conversation, lugging the loot he got from the walls, which was now half bare.
"GLOBO—"
"Now, now. Ah'll deal with it." Mr. Trucker approached Globox slowly. Globox, who expected a pounding, flinched and dropped the loot on the floor. "Please! Don't impale me! I wanna' live!"
"Ah' won' hurt ya' none. Ah' couldn't resist mah' curiosity when I was your..."
"Officially, I'm 60 years old!"
He feel silent. "Uh... just- just practice self-control, Son."
A new turbulence shook the ship for about a few more seconds.
"Th' turb-U-lance's occurin' more frequently! If we gotta' git t' where eva' you're goin', we gotta' fahnd an alternate route!"
"We gotta' get to the commercial planet! Don't you remember?!"
"Wha', no. Wonder wha' ah' don't..."
Ly and Murfy were both running down the stairs, followed by Mr. Trucker. Suddenly, the large trucker halted in his tracks, bumping the other two backward into Globox's rubbery stomach! "OH! AH' KNOW WHA'! Because ah' jotted on mah' cal-IAND-er t' avoid that planet today!"
"WHAT?! Why?!"
"Because it's gonna' be crowded! They're having a BIG SALE this month!"
Ly was suddenly as frantic as she had been when she first saw Rayman kidnapped! "SALE?!!?"
Murfy said, "What's the matter, Fairy? Everyone likes sales!"
"RAYMAN'S there! Mr. Trucker, how long has this sale lasted?!"
"It's almost ova'!"
Without thinking, Ly zipped to the wheel, and hit the accelerator!"
"Hey! N-now, Lady, ah'm the only one who knows howta—"
"WE GOTTA' GET TO THAT SALE BEFORE IT ENDS! THE REDUCED PRICES! THE SECOND ITEMS FREE!"
Murfy brightened! "I LIKE your THINKING!"
"WE GOTTA' GO AND RESCUE RAYMAN!"
"Yeah, the reduced prices, the—wait, what's this about Rayman?"
Mr. Trucker displayed horror in front of his guests for the first time, as he watched Ly's foot slamming the accelerator! In response, everything loose flew backwards into the room at the end, or against the walls! Even Globox and Murfy got plastered against the wall!
"MY SWEET BETSY!!!!"
Murfy spoke through his clenched teeth. "At least we're on our way."
-----
"I told yew to get zee red wire into zee red socket!"
"I'LL give you a sock-eet!"
Achat and Vente were arguing over the controls that operated one of the machines.
"Look! I am, how yew say, VERY annoyed! Madame vonted us to find out vot's wrong with the machine, and yew are putting the red wire in the wrong socket, I tell you!"
"No! THAT one eez the wrong socket! THEEZ one eez the right one because eet has the little thing on the top!"
"Don't lay zat technical jargon on ME—OOP!"
Vente accidentally shoved Achat's arm backwards, letting the wire fly in the air! Spinning out in the open, it then ricocheted against various parts of the pipes, down into the main factory room, and plopped down onto an assembly line in motion! That assembly line happened to be carrying a line of Raymanian heads, all paralyzed. The workers were on break, and had their back turned toward it.
What a perfect coincidence for that wire to land on top of one of the heads! Electrocuting it, the head was now back alive! But before it could see the workers to its right, it was already down the dark shoot at the other end of the assembly line, and lay there on a pile of other heads.
It spoke. "BOBLE! WHERE AM I?!"
(to be continued)