Glendorp felt relieved. The first step had been taken. He had a date to the prom.
Jake leaned across Rich and spoke to Glendorp. “Listen, man, if you manage to bone her after the dance, I wanna hear all about it.”
Glendorp did not respond, because he did not know what Jake meant. He would have to peruse the Brief Guide to Earthlings that had been given to him on Zeldar. Once he learned the meaning of the word “bone,” perhaps he could attempt to achieve it.
* * *
“Ladies, gentlemen, and qualtrids, welcome back to our studio! You can see that Glendorp is having a fine time down on Earth, and has managed to ask a girl to the prom. Of course, we know it’s the gorgeous Kalacha, a regular guest star on The Zeldar Show, but Glendorp doesn’t know that! His mother persuaded him to audition for us, and he’s never watched our show, can you believe it? Mom thinks it’s time for him to mate, and you can’t blame a mother for wanting little grandchildren... not to mention the awards and prize money! But I don’t know if our friend Glendorp is quite ready for the finality of mating.”
[Laughter]
“But before you mate, be sure to stock up on Femmelmeng’s Interplanetary Chews! They fill you up and make you glow. Can’t beat that. One of our favorite sponsors. Available in grass, pumpernickel, and diesel flavors. Get some today! On sale at your local galactic convenience shop.
[Applause]
Host pauses, cups hand around ear.
“Oh, pardon me folks, I’ve just heard from the engineers handling the feed from the far-flung planet we’ve chosen for this week’s show. They’re telling me that Glendorp has gotten himself into a bit of a dilemma down there. Let’s zoom back in to see what’s going on.”
* * *
Glendorp was still getting used to the way this peculiar body walked. He was trying to move along at a typical Earthling gait when he heard people running up behind him.
It was three males he hadn’t yet met. Or maybe he had. It was very difficult to tell them apart. One of these was quite a large specimen.
“Hey, Dorp,” he said, stopping very close to Glendorp. “Where do you come off asking that new girl out? I saw her first.”
Glendorp recognized the aggressive posturing as a threatening stance. He was, however, mystified as to where this attitude had originated.
“Pardon me?” he said. He was proud that he had learned this short phrase while looking at his language translation documentation during the afternoon class on calculus. It was apparently high on the politeness scale.
“Pardon me,” the other boy said, in an apparent attempt to mock him. “Yeah, I’ll pardon you, all right.”
Glendorp put his hand out in the familiar welcoming gesture. “I am Glendorp.”
“I’m Dwayne, you dorp.” The large Earthling came at him and slapped his hand away. He raised both fists and began to pummel Glendorp rapidly. It hurt. This body was too soft.
Glendorp pondered his options. He didn’t want to do what a Zeldarian would do in this situation. At least not yet. He wanted to follow the rules and win the game fair and square, by going to the prom with a girl he had asked. His mother would be so pleased if he won the prize. She would be able to move into a bigger place with all his younger siblings.
But being struck by Earthling limbs was very uncomfortable for the tender body he was temporarily housed in. Glendorp was still thinking hard about what to do when his new friends Jake and Rich came around the corner. They barreled right into the fight. Jake surprised Dwayne with a powerful punch to the jaw, while Rich grabbed Dwayne’s arms from behind. The rest of the group backed off quickly. Soon Dwayne and his fellow Earthlings left, and Jake and Rich displayed their teeth to Glendorp.
Jake put an arm around Glendorp’s shoulders. “We got your back, buddy,” he said, which Glen understood to mean that they would help him. This was good to know, if he wanted to get Kalacha to the prom.
* * *
“Whoa, ladies, qualtrids, and gentlemen, did you see that? Our boy Glendorp was getting a plaff-kicking down on that planet, and he was rescued by some good Earthling buddies. Don’t you think he’s doing well?”
[Applause]
“So now we come to the audience interaction segment of the show—your favorite part, I know! You all remember how this works. Reach under your plaff holders and you’ll find a razmagoo with three buttons. You can select number one, number grazlo, or number berg. Each time we take a vote, your decision will determine what happens next. Now, let’s bring up our first set of options.”
Host gestures to the screen behind him.
“Button number one: Glendorp’s earthly transportation device breaks down on the way to the prom, and he never gets there. Mission definitely not accomplished.”
[Laughter]
“Button number grazlo: he gets there, but he finds Kalacha at the prom with another guy! Oh, no! What will he do then?”
[Laughter]
“Finally, button number berg—and this one is a doozy. Glendorp and Kalacha make it to the prom, but then a small interstellar vehicle obliterates the entire planet. Wow!”
[Applause]
“All right... now’s the time to vote. Take out your razmagoo and push one of the buttons. I can’t wait to see what you’ll decide for the fate of our boy down on Earth.”
[Musical interlude]
Trazil points to the screen as the graph is unveiled.
“And... we have our answer! The vote goes to number grazlo. Glendorp reaches the prom and sees Kalacha there with another male. Uh oh! Watch out, Earthlings!”
* * *
Glendorp entered the school gym, dressed in stiff clothing. He was covered with many layers; it was apparently the traditional garb for such an occasion. He adjusted the piece of fabric that went around his imitation Earthling neck. It made it difficult to get oxygen into this odd body.
Across the room he spotted Kalacha. Somehow she had avoided wearing so many clothes. This was a peculiar differentiation between genders: the more formal the situation, the more the males wore, but the less the females wore. Glendorp could only speculate about how Earth’s qualtrids must dress.
He wasn’t certain if he should mention how he had attempted to pick up Kalacha at her place of residence, only to find that she had already left for the prom with someone else. Should he raise this point? He had no information to tell him what an appropriate Earthling reaction would be.
As Glendorp approached Kalacha, he noticed the crowd of Earthlings around her whispering. He was getting better at comprehending the language quickly, and could hear a few snatches of conversation.
“Is that the new guy?”
“I heard she said yes to two different boys! No class. People say she’s from Indiana.”
“Poor guy. Do you think there’s gonna be a fight?”
“Yes! Fight. Fight. Fight!”
As the rhythmic chant was picked up by the small crowd, more and more individuals came over, attracted by the noise and the spectacle.
A circle formed around Glendorp, Kalacha, and her date. Glendorp realized that Kalacha’s date was the same large Earthling who had assaulted him before. Dwayne, he had called himself.
“Hello, Dwayne,” Glendorp said. “I thought that I was going to pick up Kalacha—”
A fist came flying at him, and a sharp pain exploded in his jaw. As he fell backward and onto the wooden gym floor amid gasps and screams from the girls, he mused to himself that the creatures on this planet were very quick to punch.
To his surprise, Kalacha immediately jumped on her date’s back and began clawing at his face. She was incredibly strong for an Earthling, and soon she had used her colorful talons to pull off strings of flesh. Dwayne was howling, and then keening, and then blood was dripping from his head. He fell to the ground, his hands red from the carnage, and clutched what was left of his face.
The crowd that had surrounded the group with an air of eager anticipation reacted with horror. They backed
away, both males and females screaming now, stampeding toward the exits.
Kalacha reached into Dwayne’s chest and pulled out his heart, then tossed it, still thumping, onto the gym floor.
Glendorp was impressed. Here was an Earthling he could admire.
“Kalacha,” he said, picking up the hot wet heart and giving it a lick, “I find you very appealing. I would like to bone you.”
He was proud of himself for having employed his new vocabulary word at an appropriate time.
“Glendorp, I am also from Zeldar. How stupid are you?”
Glendorp considered this question. For a Zeldarian, he was pretty stupid. His mother often reminded him of this. But before he could respond, he noticed that Kalacha was smoking. And she was peeling off her Earthling disguise, revealing her scales and multiple eyes. What a lovely Zeldarian girl she was!
Glendorp glanced down once more at the Earthling, Dwayne. He was quite dead, and making a bloody mess on the gymnasium floor. For a moment Glendorp pondered what his responsibility was for cleaning it up.
Then he turned to Kalacha, now in all her scaly, smoking glory. “The answer to your question, Kalacha, is that I am 37% stupid. So my mother says.”
Kalacha picked up the heart and took a bite. “Yummxmsubk,” she said, having reverted to Zeldarian when her disguise—and its implanted translation device—were removed.
“I agree,” said Glendorp, shucking off the uncomfortable fabric around his neck. Piece by piece he removed the formal Earth garb, and then the uncomfortable Earth skin, until at last he had returned to his normal appearance. It felt wonderful to be able to scratch his scales and stretch all his legs again.
“Earthlings are good eating,” he said.
* * *
Glendorp and Kalacha relaxed on their plaffs in the high school gym, munching companionably on what was left of Dwayne’s body. Glendorp found himself very glad that he had followed his mother’s suggestion to audition for the show. Who could have imagined that he would end up on an exotic planet with the sexy star Kalacha, having a private feast of fresh alien while being watched by billions of Zeldarians back home?
The name Glendorp Freundzap would go down in history as someone who had ventured across the galaxy to Earth and managed to get to a high school prom, fistfights and all. He wouldn’t be surprised if today’s episode of The Zeldar Show turned out to be a popular one to replay at parties. It couldn’t have ended in a more satisfying way. His mother would be so pleased! There would be money and prizes to spare.
Life was good.
Perhaps he was ready to mate at last. He, who had not even dated! His mother had always described him as a late bloomer. With a contented sigh, Glendorp realized that his time had come.
Emboldened by the privacy afforded by the empty gym, the deliciousness of young Earthling in his tummy, and the beauty of his companion, Glendorp reached over to tug on Kalacha’s plaff.
She flared her third nostril alluringly. He basked in the knowledge that she returned his interest in mating. He couldn’t remember ever being so happy.
A loud bang interrupted their idyll, as the double doors to the gym burst open. Men in matching outfits stormed in, carrying what must be weapons. As soon as the gang saw Glendorp and Kalacha, they skidded to a halt, their eyes bugging out, their expressions dumbfounded.
* * *
“Qualtrids and ladies and gentlemen! What have we here? A group of security men, apparently, coming in to molest our friends Glendorp and Kalacha—both looking pretty comfy now that they have taken off those ridiculous body disguises—while they were in the midst of a romantic tryst, complete with fresh raw Earthling as entrée.
“You know what we do next. It’s time for voting!”
[Applause]
“Number one: We yank our fellow Zeldarians back to safety right now and give Glendorp a nice fat prize, leaving this nasty planet to its own devices, or...”
Host points to the screen behind him.
“Number grazlo: Give Glendorp and Kalacha all the time they need to do away with these interlopers, or...”
The columns on the screen slide up and down as buttons are pushed.
“Number berg: We destroy this foolish planet and all the life on it.”
[Laughter]
“Make your choice, folks. And we’ll wait while the votes come in.”
[Music]
Trazil points to the screen as the graph is unveiled.
“And here we have it! The winning scenario is number grazlo! A perfect choice. So back to Earth we go to see what happens next!
* * *
Glendorp got off his plaff and stood up on all twelve of his feet. He could see that the security men were terrified. Which was rather satisfying.
Little projectiles came zipping across the gym from their weapons, but they did no more than ping against his tough carapace and rebound off his scales. He pulled his protective membranes over the twenty-three eyes he didn’t need, and turned the big red one toward Kalacha.
She was laughing. She headed right for the men, who scrambled backward, some dropping their projectile-spewing arms. Several of the Earthlings were vomiting, and the rest raced toward the door.
Kalacha picked up two of them and bit one in half, tossing the other over her head to Glendorp.
He was in love.
* * *
“Well, kind of a bloodbath down there, wouldn’t you agree? Good thing these Earthling types don’t have anything too significant in the way of interplanetary vehicles, or we’d be in trouble, eh?”
[Laughter]
“Or maybe not! Even if they could get here, I don’t think they have it in them to do us any harm. A Zeldarian infant could outwit any one of them, am I right?”
[Laughter]
“So it looks like it’s time to bring our successful contestant home, along with the beautiful Kalacha. What do you say, folks? Shall we pull them back up from this godforsaken outpost of a planet?”
[Applause]
Glendorp and Kalacha reappear in the studio.
[Waves of applause]
“Glendorp, my man! Well done down there. You went to the prom, you got the girl, and you had a hot meal of fresh Earthlings. How did it feel?”
Glendorp lets loose a mighty eructation, followed by a haze of yellow smoke.
“Actually, Trazil, the young Earthling was delicious, but those older guys... yuck. I think I have a little indigestion.”
[Laughter]
“I can understand that, buddy. Ha! How many of them did you consume, Kalacha?”
“We ate about seven Earthlings each, Trazil.”
Kalacha leans over and tilts her big red eye toward Glendorp.
“I was quite impressed with Glendorp’s ability to consume. He will make a good mate, and produce healthy offspring.”
“Did you hear that folks? Kalacha is going to mate with Glendorp. That means he not only gets the prize for accomplishing his task, he gets the bonus, which will, of course, go to his mother.”
[Applause]
“Let’s cue the music! Here comes the ceremony we’ve all been waiting for!”
Kalacha mounts Glendorp, inserting her boon into his plaff. A qualtrid slides onto the stage and wraps itself around the two of them until Kalacha detaches herself, still smoking.
[Applause]
“Let’s bring out the money and wrap this episode up, folks! Any last words before we pull the plug, Glendorp?”
Glendorp turns to the audience.
“I want to thank my mother for encouraging me to appear on The Zeldar Show. Hi, Mom!”
He waves at the camera.
[Applause]
“It’s been a dream come true to meet and mate with Kalacha. And I want to thank my father, too, who of course is no longer with us.”
[Laughter]
“Glendorp, I never knew you were so funny!”
Kalacha flares her third nostril at Glendorp, and smoke drifts out.
“He’s a charmer, am I right, folks? Our Glendorp is quite a guy, and I think he’ll fertilize an impressive mess of beautiful little zygotes for Kalacha. So let’s bring out the prizes for today’s planetary adventure.”
Two qualtrids come out from the wings, pushing a large cart covered with piles of gold.
[Applause]
“Here’s your booty, my man. Glendorp Freundzap, congratulations on winning The Zeldar Show!”
Kalacha picks up Glendorp and eats him. She wipes her mouth.
“Yum! He was even more delicious than the Earthlings, Trazil.”
[Laughter]
The qualtrids mop Glendorp leftovers off the floor.
“Okay, folks. We’ve come to the moment when we hit the final button on your razmagoo. This time, we’re all pushing number berg, of course!
“Remember, I’m your host, Trazil Krang, the Funnest Guy in the Galaxy, and this has been today’s episode of The Zeldar Show, brought to you by Femmelmeng’s Interplanetary Chews. It’s time to say goodbye, but before we go, here’s the final word. You know the drill!”
Trazil spreads all seven arms wide as the audience joins him in shouting—
“BOOM!”
On the screen behind the host, the planet Earth comes back into focus, and then implodes in a haze of purple smoke.
[Applause]
A Word from Patrice Fitzgerald
Boom! Did you see that coming? I had a great time plunking Glendorp down on Earth with the high school kids, and then concocting this wacky tale where the humans are the aliens. “Hanging with Humans” was originally written for Samuel Peralta’s Alien Chronicles, the second in a long line of anthologies that are part of his Future Chronicles. I’ve been privileged to be featured in several of those very successful anthologies, and I love the short story form because it’s quick and powerful—but I love penning novels as well.
It took me a while to end up as a full-time writer/publisher, though I had the usual youthful dreams of growing up to be a famous author. First I went to law school and became an intellectual property attorney, holding positions with the government, in corporations, and in private practice. I worked as a freelance writer for a few years while raising my kids, and then finally got around to writing the novel I’d been talking about for years. That first novel is now safely in a drawer, where it belongs.
Best of Beyond the Stars Page 4