"We are a peace-loving people," stated the alien Glinkon leader to Captain Kirk from the Enterprise viewscreen. "Centuries ago we genetically modified our race to eliminate all disposition toward violence. No matter the temptation, even to protect our own lives, we cannot be moved upon to harm another living creature."
"Then...how...do...you...propose...to...defend...yourselves...against..the... Klingons?" asked Kirk with his usual pretentious pauses.
"We do not," replied the alien. "If it be the will of Molotok that we perish or become slaves, then so shall it be."
So engrossed was George in the sci-fi drama that he almost didn't notice the bitter sobs coming from his sister's room. His heart touched, the moose boy pushed himself from the couch and went to see if he could offer Sal any comfort.
He found the girl slouched over her small, flower-painted desk, her hands covering her tear-soaked eyes. "Don't cry, Sal," said George, putting his arms around her neck.
Lying on the desk before her was a sheet of paper on which she had made a drawing with colored pencils. It showed a gloating rat boy with horns on his temples and a pitchfork in his hand, and a striped snake skewered on the pitchfork. Above this image was one of a smiling snake with angel wings, ascending through the clouds.
Sal turned to her brother, her eyes red and sore. "The poor little snake didn't do anything wrong," she said plaintively. "It wasn't even poisonous."
George pulled Sal's head against his chest. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he said softly. "Tomorrow when we go to school, I'll get Dudley to apologize, one way or another."
And the next morning he set about to do exactly that. Finding Dudley leaning on a pillar in the center court shortly before the beginning of classes, George confronted him with Sal in tow. "I want to talk to you, Dudley," he barked.
"About what?" said the rat boy nonchalantly.
"You broke Sal's heart when you killed that snake."
Dudley took a step closer to George and Sal. "Are you still dwelling on that stupid snake?" he berated them. "I don't know what you see in those creatures. As far as I'm concerned, the only good snake is a dead snake."
Sal started to cry again. "Now look what you've done," George reprimanded the boy. "I demand that you apologize to her."
Dudley shrugged. "Apologize for what? It's her fault for being so emotionally attached to those vermin." Drawn by the sounds of discord, a mob of children started to gather around the trio.
George felt indignation overwhelm him as his sister's weeping grew in volume. "You insensitive louse!" he insulted Dudley.
The rat boy gasped in outrage. "Louse? How dare you! If I were a boy, I would..."
A sudden realization cut Dudley's sentence short. He and George glowered at each other, and the world appeared to stand still.
"You would what?" George responded defiantly.
His question was promptly answered. The air seemed charged with electricity as Dudley's fist tore through it on its way to George's face.
The moose boy felt a sudden pain in his right eye, and struggled to keep his footing. Sal screamed. The surrounding kids gasped.
George wanted with all his heart to avenge himself on the grinning Dudley, but the pain and shock were too much. All he could do was burst into tears and flee toward the nurse's office, with Sal pursuing him anxiously.
The next thing Dudley felt, after tremendous pride, was the admiring gazes of two members of the group that had assembled to witness the fight--the Tough Customer kids, Molly and Rattles. As the other kids wandered away to their respective classes, these two approached Dudley with friendly smirks.
"I guess you're a boy after all," said Rattles.
"You sure showed that wimp who's boss," added Molly.
"Indeed I did," said Dudley, looking down at his still-clenched fist. "I rather enjoyed that. But I fear Principal Haney shall inflict a grievous punishment on me."
Rattles gaped at the boy in confusion. "I think grievous means bad," Molly informed him.
"The worst he'll give you is a few days' detention," Rattles told Dudley. "And if you stick with us, we'll teach you how to avoid punishment altogether."
Dudley looked at the floor thoughtfully. "I suppose it's in my nature to cause trouble, now that I'm a boy," he mused. "I shall consider your kind offer."
"You talk like a dork," said Molly. "Work on that."
The next sight she and Rattles beheld was not at all unfamiliar--the towering figure of Herbert Haney, glaring sternly, hands on hips.
"I didn't do it, man," claimed Rattles.
"It was him," said Molly, pointing at Dudley.
In the principal's office, Mr. Haney was perusing Dudley's file and reflecting on how little information it contained. "Dudley Proctor," he muttered to the boy who sat across the desk from him. "Funny, a girl with the same last name appeared out of nowhere a month ago, and she disappeared at about the same time that you showed up."
"I was that girl, sir," said Dudley.
"Now don't get smart with me," warned Haney, waving the stem end of a lollipop menacingly. "Stay on my good side, and I'll treat this as a first-time offense."
"But it's true," Dudley insisted. "I nearly overthrew the world with my magical powers, but Prunella Prufrock tricked me into turning myself into a boy. Sir."
The principal fiddled with his glasses. "Next you'll tell me that you were born in the seventeenth century, and that your parents died three hundred years ago," he said incredulously.
"I would tell you that," replied Dudley, "and it would be the truth, but you wouldn't believe me. But that's not relevant. I'm being disciplined for striking another child, not for telling tall tales."
"I'm losing patience with you," said Haney with a slight snarl to his voice. "I was going to give you only three days' detention, but now I've decided to increase it to five."
Confusion and concern gripped Dudley's heart as he assessed his situation.
"It appears that the longer I remain in your office, the longer my sentence will become," he said, rising from the chair. "I bid you good day, sir."
"Wait!" exclaimed Mr. Haney as the rat boy walked casually from his office.
It turned into a miserable class period for George, who sat at the back of the room with an icepack over his right eye, fuming and wishing for revenge. Dudley sat near the front, fully cognizant that all the other kids were staring at him and wondering what had given him the boldness to attack one of his classmates. Their reactions didn't embarrass him; rather, they filled him with a sort of reckless self-satisfaction. So this is how it truly feels to be a boy, he thought. I like it.
When class was out, Dudley was the first through the door, as he had urgent business to discuss with Molly and Rattles. Some of the other kids--Binky, Mavis, Van, and Muffy--stayed behind to console the battered moose boy.
"I can't believe he hit you," said Binky. "I never hit you."
"You have to cut him a little slack," said Muffy. "If I turned into a boy, I'd lash out violently too."
"I hope they suspend him for the rest of the school year," said Van.
Mavis, for her part, handed George a sheet of paper with Xerox-copied drawings on it. "Here's something that'll cheer you up," she said with a grin.
Spongebrain Smartypants Issue 1, by Mavis Cutler and Binky Barnes, read the crudely handwritten title. George scanned the drawings with his good eye, and soon found himself laughing out loud.
TBC
