Author's Note: I didn't expect to have this much fun switching between third and first person! It's really interesting getting inside Harry's head... Although, now all I want to do now is drink milk, eat pizza, and leave this planet. No wait that's my baseline, never mind.
"You just gave me a compliment."
It was Harry's first time at a bar. He had followed Asta there to make sure she made it okay without the wolves finding her. She might come in handy later if he needed someone to carry his eggs on the chance he were to need an x-ray in the future.
"What?" she chuckled. "Most people say thank you when they're told their eyes look like two seawater fishbowls."
She swore she saw herself reflected in them as, not a person, but a goldfish.
"Now say something nice about me," said Asta.
Harry looked at her for a moment.
"You could probably swim fairly well if you tried. You would not sink because you have a considerable and uniform layer of fat. Why do you look so angry?"
"Because I wish you just called me a goldfish again." She downed the drink in her hand.
"But I no longer think you are stupider than a goldfish," admitted Harry. "You are smarter than a pigeon, actually."
"You've put a lot of thought into your animal rankings."
"I have all 8.7 million animal species on this planet organized and ranked inside my head. I also rank them by weight, by how ugly I think they are, and by how good they taste."
Cockroaches are the most delicious. Followed by unicorns.
Asta rolled her eyes. He vaguely wondered if human eyeballs could fall out if they did that too much. He made a mental note to look that up later.
I worry that I am not fitting in. I admit that socializing is harder than I had anticipated. I am so incredibly advanced above goldfish or pigeons, I might as well be a human trying to build a working airplane out of coconuts and ass hair.
He observed some humans convulsing on an area on the floor clear of furniture, in tune with the loud noises being made by speakers.
"Do they all need anti-epileptics?"
"Oh come on, Harry, they're not that bad."
"It is not a matter of good or bad. A grand mal seizure could potentially-"
"Hey Asta! Who's this?" asked the woman behind the bar.
"Hey D'Arcy! This is Harry, he's new in town. He's taking over for Sam for a little bit."
"Nice. How is Sam?"
"Not well."
"Why are the walls covered in old mining equipment?" asked Harry.
"You really are new here, huh?" D'Arcy raised her bottle. "THE SIXTY-NINE!"
The entire bar chanted, "THE SIXTY-NINE!" (Except for a woman named Judy, who shouted "TWO!")
"The 69 honors the brave miners of our founding town, who escaped a collapsing mine but went back inside when they realized one miner was still trapped inside," explained D'Arcy. "Sixty-nine died to save one."
"That is a story."
"Yes. And they were all under 8 years old."
"They were minor miners?"
"Yes, minor miners."
"What were they mining?"
"Coprolite."
"Coprolite?" Harry's emotionless face frowned. "Fossilized feces?"
"Is that what that is?" asked D'Arcy. "Huh." She took a swig from her bottle, then used the same one to give Harry a glass. "Here, have some of our local whiskey."
"Why is this water so dirty?"
D'Arcy and Asta chuckled. Harry gave a half-hearted "Haha," not sure what was supposed to be so funny about water contamination.
"Cheers!"
Harry swallowed the small glass and immediately felt it burning down his throat and sputtered.
"What the hell is this? Why did you make me consume a glass of acid solution?"
Are humans insane?
"Maybe you shouldn't have swallowed the actual glass too," suggested Asta.
"Do you like it?" asked D'Arcy, handing him another empty glass.
"I can feel my esophagus melting. Is this some kind of industrial cleaning chemical?"
"Technically, yes. You want more?"
"God, no!" He raised his glass to ask for more.
Ten minutes later, the three of them got trashed. Harry found himself convulsing on the dance floor to the pulsating noise as well. Within another thirty minutes they packed into Harry's truck, drove to Asta's ex-husband Jimmy's house, grabbed him out of bed, dragged him to his rooftop, and tied him, screaming, to a lightning rod. Afterwards, in hopes of honoring Sam Hodges, they broke into the morgue, dressed him up, and shuffled him into the nearest open tattoo parlor to get him a cool skull and snake tattoo on his neck. Then they went up to the giant Welcome to Patience, Colorado sign and the ladies laughed as Harry spraypainted roosters with eggs all over it. Lastly, they shoplifted some clay masks and had a spa night in the truck bed after filling it with snow and lighting a fire under it. In lieu of flower petals and yuzu slices, they used grocery store receipts and pinecones.
Harry had not had this much fun since the Great Tide Of 6788 when a devastating tsunami brought fresh fish roe to his city on his planet Beepborp. He still had some fermenting inside his pouch, where he kept his regular eggs and his car keys.
In the early hours of the morning, with D'Arcy passed out in the back seat next to Sam's body and Jimmy's TV that they stole, Asta asked Harry to make a special stop for her. It was a quiet, isolated clearing in the woods, bordered by a cliff which gave the viewer a magnificent view of the Colorado wilderness under the cold, rising sun. At the edge of the tree line, Harry observed a buck watching them cautiously. He had never seen one outside of television or as illustrations on bags of jerky at the food store. It was beautiful.
"Some believe that bucks are symbols of protection and rebirth," said Asta.
"Protection form what?"
"Quicksand."
"I see."
Asta took off her boots in his car. The smell was overwhelming.
He followed her outside to watch the sunrise.
"You're a weirdo, like me," said Asta. "I could tell the moment I saw you outside the clinic. You parked your truck vertically."
"It was my first time parallel parking. I was nervous."
"I overheard Sheriff Mike asking Deputy Liv if they could even ticket you for that."
"They did. I threw it away. I wanted a ticket to the opera."
She looked at him. "You were right, I have given birth. But only once, when I was 16. I lost her in a poker game." She stared back over at the sunrise. "I can't believe I stayed with Jimmy for so long. I was a fool."
"What made you stop such goldfish-level of stupidity?"
"I decided I had enough one night, four months ago. I almost didn't leave, but then I saw a shooting star and felt a connection to it that I couldn't really understand. But it gave me the strength to finally leave after years of abuse. It was a sign from the spirits, like that buck we saw a moment ago. I believe that now."
That shooting star was me. I was pants-soakingly terrified at the time. The ship was spinning, the alarms were blaring, my body tossed to and fro. I was sobbing and grasping at the controls for dear life. I should not have been texting and driving. I was certain I would die.
"You okay, Harry? You're tearing up."
"I am fine. The cold is burning my eyes."
Harry could no longer hold it in; he bent over and puked all over the snow. Asta followed suit.
"Ugh, I am never drinking again," she said. "Wait, why does your vomit have live tadpoles in it?"
"Because I am a particularly virile male, obviously."
The buck walked over and licked it.
Headache… nausea... severe dehydration... balls hurt... room spinning… brand new nipple rings... Alcohol must not affect humans the way it does us.
Harry defenestrated his alarm clock when it went off that late morning.
I must not forget the mission though.
Though he would be late for the clinic, he still made it up the mountain. He had to find the pieces of his ship, and his device. And his favorite tote bag that he also lost in the crash.
Humans are dangerous. My people have always known that. That is why I was instructed to set off the device on Europa. The primitive unicellular microorganisms under the ice are no threat to us whatsoever. Neither are the mermaids. Nonetheless, my people will not accept failure.
Harry went in circles with his specialized homemade metal detector for a while before he realized that his nipple rings were setting it off. He fiddled with the device to make the appropriate adjustments.
Uranus is massive. Our people will make use of the bodies of water here. We can sink the major landmasses and artificially cool the climate with ease. We just need a clean slate.
Harry's metal detector finally gave a promising blip over a spot. He started digging.
My people assume that human weakness comes from their need to find connections. But I have come to learn that it is their greatest strength. Humans are clingy, like mucus. Have you ever tried to clean thick mucus off a surface? It is a nightmare.
Harry pulled out a broken piece of his ship. His human face broke into its first genuine smile.
Maybe they are redeemable. Unfortunately, it is too late for them. I am determined to complete my internship and rise up the corporate ladder.
"You forgot to get coffee for my balls again, Deputy."
"Balls, don't, um… need coffee…?"
Sheriff Mike and Deputy Liv sat in the police car waiting for their suspect to arrive for work.
"And turn the radio off! I got your music right here." He proceeded to sing Giacomo Puccini's Nessun Dorma opera piece in D major.
Harry arrived shortly after Mike's descendo. He parked his truck upside-down this time. He stood outside it scratching his head when Mike and Liv accosted him.
"Dr. Vanderspeigle! I know about last night!"
"That buck was already dead when we found it-"
"What?"
"I mean, Jimmy was already dead when we found him-"
"The hell you on about? You took Dr. Hodge's body last night!"
"What's going on?" asked Asta, who had just stepped out. "I swear, Jimmy was already dead when we found him."
"And so was Dr. Hodges," added Harry.
Sheriff Mike swore he would burst an aneurysm inside one of his balls' seminiferous tubules.
"You two. Come with me."
"I swear that kid was dead when we found him-"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"He obviously ain't dead."
"It is a miracle!"
They were inside the clinic morgue in the basement, where Sheriff Mike just pulled out a mortuary drawer to reveal Max in his pajamas, strapped down to the slab with Dr. Hodge's cadaver identification tag tied around his toe.
That is right. I replaced the murder victim with that kid last night, when I told the two females I was going to the bathroom. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
"I want answers, Doc."
"Wait a minute," said Deputy Liv, addressing her supervisor. "You knew Max was in here and left him here while we waited for Dr. Vanderspeigle?"
"You know I have a flair for the dramatics, Deputy."
"THAT CLOWN IS TRYING TO KILL ME!"
Not directly. I hoped they might bury him so I would not have to worry about him anymore.
"I must have mixed up their charts," said Harry. "Clerical error. It happens."
"Then where-"
One of the mortuary cabinet doors sprung open and Ellen slid herself out. She seemed to be in the midst of an active phone call.
"Phone call from the Hawthornes," she said. "They want to know why Dr. Hodges's corpse is in their kid's bed."
"Thank you for being here, Dr. Vanderspeigle," said Mayor Ben. "Your presence means a lot to us."
They stood at the outer fringes of Dr. Hodges's funeral service a few days after the autopsy. The spear made it impossible to close the casket, so it was stuck at a half-closed angle with the body's new snake-and-skull tattoo clearly visible. The handle would forever stick out of the dirt in front of his gravestone.
"I know you didn't know him," continued Ben, "but he was a great man. He would have really liked you."
Harry pulled his coat tighter over his frail warm-blooded human body against the chill wind.
Those nipple rings are making me cold.
"Why am I getting so many spam calls?" he asked. "A woman called me this morning to tell me she was in labor. I told her congratulations and hung up."
"Oh, that, heh." Ben gave a sheepish smile. "This town needs a doctor right now. I figured you wouldn't mind filling in while I find a new permanent physician."
"She has not stopped calling since." Harry looked down at his phone, annoyed.
I should turn it off for the funeral. But what if I get an emergency call?
"Also, I used to have therapy with Dr. Hodges every Tuesday at 4 O'clock. So, I will be seeing you this Tuesday."
"I am not available Tuesdays at 4, that is when I have… er… ballet lessons."
Ben gave him a big chuckle, clapped him on the shoulder, and walked away.
Shit. So much for perfecting my relevé.
Asta approached him.
"It's really nice to have you here," she said. "Have you seen my spare keys?"
Yes. I put them in the coffin with the body.
"No."
Harry was not sure why he allowed Mayor Princess to convince him to act as town doctor. Perhaps Harry was worried he would raise suspicion if he refused. After all, don't human doctors become doctors because they cared? He had to at least pretend.
"You're first case of the day is in Room 1," said Asta, dressing him in his white coat and handing him his stethoscope. "A pediatric patient here for fever."
"Has he been deloused?"
"… No. We don't do that."
"Well, you should. Children are filthy."
Harry grabbed the chart and, when Asta was not looking, threw it in the trash. He then pulled back the curtain… to see that screaming kid yet again.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Oh, this is some bitch shit."
At least we can skip the pulmonary exam.
Author's Note: I really struggled to figure out who should be the Voice of Reason in this. Turns out no one is.