Zorgoochi Intergalactic Pizza : Delivery of Doom (9781250008459)

by Yaccarino, Dan

  KA-CHUNK! KA-CHUNK! KA-CHUNCK!

  Clive informed Luno that the sound they were hearing was a malfunctioning fan belt, which had been damaged in the tailspin. As an afterthought, Clive added that without a fully operational fan belt cooling the atomic engine, the pod would explode in about twenty minutes.

  With no spare parts and a solid C average in Astral Mechanics, Luno tried not to panic and think of something to do.

  “MOZZARELLA!” Luno suddenly shouted.

  Even Chooch couldn’t believe Luno was thinking of dairy products at a time like this, but Luno was too busy scraping the extra cheese off one of the pizzas in the oven in Chooch’s chest to explain.

  Before Clive could ask what his plan was, Luno already had his helmet on and was scurrying around the outside of the delivery pod. Luno was so excited about coming up with a brilliant solution to fix the fan belt, he forgot to be scared. With all his might, he pried open the engine panel. As he patched up the busted fan belt using the sticky mozzarella, Luno thought how proud his great-great-great-aunt Genia, who won awards for isolating the pizza molecule, would be of him right now, that is, if she were still alive.

  “That ought to hold it,” Luno said, back inside and unscrewing his helmet. Clive gave a nod of approval at Luno’s quick thinking and Chooch cried tears of joy.

  After mopping up Chooch’s tears of joy, Luno slid into the pilot’s seat and scanned the control panel.

  Engine’s atomic core temperature. Check.

  Pizza temperature. Check.

  Fan belt. Um, check, I hope.

  Then a smile grew on Luno’s lips.

  Pilot’s ability to handle a crisis. Check!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A Hot Time on Inferno9

  A flaming orange planet glowed angrily in the distance.

  Inferno9.

  As Luno landed, he could already feel the high temperature rising up from the planet’s smoldering surface right through the floor of the pod and through the soles of his space boots.

  The three friends peered warily out the porthole. The landscape was a charred wasteland riddled with crevices spewing flames. It reminded Luno of his first attempt at making pizza.

  He slipped on a pair of heat-resistant boots, a pair of gloves, and a space suit, then opened the oven in Chooch’s chest and slipped the super spicy-pizza with extra hot peppers into a thermal pizza pouch.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Zorgoochi,” said Clive, “but the surface temperature of Inferno9 is over 600 degrees. I hardly think you will need a thermal pouch to keep the pizza warm.”

  “I know,” Luno replied. “I’m putting it in here to keep it from bursting into flames when it hits the atmosphere.”

  Clive nodded.

  “All ready, Luno!” said Chooch, holding a stick with a marshmallow at the end of it. “Let’s go!”

  But Luno gently explained that he had to go alone.

  “It could be dangerous out there, Chooch!” Luno said, as the giant robot rolled around on the floor kicking his feet and bawling.

  “Well then, Mr. Zorgoochi,” said Clive, “if it could be dangerous, why are you going?”

  Luno knew it was pointless to try to explain to a super-intelligent, yet entirely clueless mutant bulb of garlic and a giant crybaby robot that he had to go. Alone. He needed to prove to his dad he could do this.

  “Because,” said Luno as he climbed the ladder to the hatch.

  “That is an entirely unsound, extremely unfounded, and highly unscientific reason,” Clive said flatly.

  It may have been unsound, unfounded, and unscientific, but Luno opened the hatch and climbed out anyway.

  Waves of heat rippled up from the scorched ground and jets of fire shot out from sinkholes every few feet, keeping Luno on his toes. Luckily, he was used to the scorching heat, thanks to Roog forcing him to walk over hot coals in the kitchen’s massive coal-fired oven every morning for the last few years. Luno never understood what it had to do with making pizza until now.

  His space suit contracted from the heat and clung to his body, making his shorts ride up. Sweat poured from every pore, his eyes teared, and his hair felt like it was on fire. The only time Luno was hotter than this was when he and his parents visited William10, the Zorgoochi’s old retired delivery robot, at Rusty Acres on Planet Rur, where apparently elderly robots liked the weather hot and to eat dinner in the afternoon. In fact, it was so hot, the freckles on Luno’s face actually slid down a quarter inch.

  Hssssssss!

  Luno spun around. It was a giant fire lizard!

  It stood on a high ridge, switching its tail and spewing flames. Luno was frozen with fear as the lizard’s yellow eyes scanned the fiery horizon and landed on him. It gave a hungry growl and began lumbering down the ridge, flicking its tongue. Luno’s brain finally defrosted enough for him to get his feet moving. He didn’t care in which direction, just as long as it was as far away as possible from the giant, hungry, fire-breathing lizard that would most definitely eat him, but not before cooking him first.

  To make matters worse, Luno saw a delivery ship in the distance and knew Quantum had already intercepted his order. But before he could reach the ship, it blasted off, leaving him in a cloud of red dust, which fortunately scared away the lizard, for the moment anyway.

  After spitting out a few mouthfuls of soot, Luno heard the faint sound of laughter over a hill a few yards away. With pizza box firmly in hand, he climbed to the top and saw a group of Infernals, the giant fire creatures who live on Inferno9, finishing up a Quantum pizza.

  Luno steeled himself and marched down the hill toward them.

  “Pizza delivery!” Luno shouted, trying to sound confident and businesslike, but came off as somewhat terrified of being burnt to a crisp.

  “Who are you?” the biggest Infernal asked, belching out a burst of flames.

  “Zorgoochi Intergalactic Pizza,” Luno croaked, then cleared his throat. “Did you order a super-spicy pizza with extra hot peppers?”

  “Yeah,” the other one said. “We did and we just ate it, so beat it!”

  Luno tried his best to explain without sounding scared utterly witless that Quantum intercepted the order and that he was actually delivering the pizza they ordered from Zorgoochi Intergalactic Pizza. Then Luno pulled the pizza out of the thermal pouch and it instantly burst into flames.

  The Infernals looked at the fiery pizza and then at each other. The big one skeptically took a slice.

  “Be careful not to burn the roof of your mouth!” Luno warned.

  “Are you kidding?” the big one smiled. “We love when that happens!”

  The Infernal took a bite and his eyes lit up, and then he devoured the whole slice.

  “This is way better than that Quantum stuff,” the big one said as he shoved another slice into his blazing mouth.

  Hearing this, the other Infernals greedily grabbed slices of their own and gobbled them down as well. They ate and ate until there was nothing left but a burning pepper on the bottom of the fireproof box, which the fat one snatched up and tossed into his mouth.

  Braaap! They all belched in unison, sending jets of fire into the air.

  “That’ll be 50,000 bux,” Luno said, but then added meekly, “plus tip.”

  The Infernals looked at one another, then burst out laughing. The big one doubled over and pounded the ground with his flaming fist.

  “W-what’s so funny?” Luno asked.

  “We ain’t payin’ you squat, squirt!” the other one said.

  Luno just knew he couldn’t go back to his father without the money for the delivery. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on Dad’s face like the time Luno had the brilliant idea of in addition to pizza toppings, why not have bottomings, too? What a mess that was.

  Luno squared his shoulders and announced, “Well, you have to! You already ate the pizza and according to Galactic Pizza Convention Protocol number 432, ‘the recipients must pay for any pizza they’ve eaten, absorbed through membra
nes, or disintegrated as a means of consumption,’ which means…”

  Luno shouted louder over the Infernals’ laughter.

  “WHICH MEANS—” Luno yelled.

  “Which means,” the big one said, as the flame on the tip of his nose nearly singed Luno’s, “we ain’t payin’ you, so scram!”

  Luno held the thermal pouch in front of him as the Infernals blew flames right at him. As they paused to inhale, Luno slipped the pouch over himself and ran. It was difficult enough navigating his way back to the ship inside the pouch, but the Infernals were shooting flames at his butt, which made it that much more difficult to run.

  Unzipping the pouch a bit and peeking out, Luno caught sight of the delivery pod.

  “Start up the pod!” Luno shouted. “Fire up the engine!”

  The hatch popped open and Chooch’s head popped out.

  “I don’t know how!” Chooch shouted, and then he disappeared.

  “Is there a manual available so I may learn how to start the engine, Mr. Zorgoochi?” Clive’s head suddenly appeared. “A schematic diagram of the delivery pod would also be helpful.”

  “Just press the ignition button!” Luno shouted.

  Looking back, Luno noticed that the Infernals had given up the chase, but then he stopped in his tracks. Luno had bigger problems ahead of him. The fire lizard was back and blocking his way to the pod.

  Hsssss! It hungrily paced back and forth, determined not to let its dinner get away a second time.

  As Luno locked eyes with it, he carefully bent at the knees and picked up a flaming rock and drew his arm back. As he flung it with all his might, Chooch’s head reappeared and asked, “Which button do I press?”

  Tonk!

  The sound the rock made when it hit Chooch’s head sounded like two coconuts knocking together, which was enough to distract the lizard so Luno could make a mad dash around the other side of the pod.

  “Ouch,” Chooch said, rubbing his head.

  Luno dove into the hatch and slammed it shut. He dropped into the pilot’s seat, jammed the ignition button, and slammed the pod into gear.

  Hsssss! The lizard, now angrier than ever, breathed flames directly at the windshield.

  As they lifted off, the lizard whipped its tail and hissed some more, but in a few moments, it was nothing but a dark green speck on an angry blazing planet. And after a while, Inferno9 was just another dot in a deep black expanse, no different from the hundreds of others Luno saw around him.

  “Whew!” Luno breathed as he set the coordinates for his next delivery. “I can’t believe we got out of there without getting hurt!”

  “Um, Luno?” said Chooch, pointing at Luno’s boots.

  He looked down. His boots were not only smoldering, but the soles were completely burned away and his bare feet were showing! A curl of smoke floated up Luno’s nostril, reminding him of the last time he smelled this familiar aroma, when he made a calzone so spicy, his dad had to put it out with a fire extinguisher.

  “What an idiot I am.” Luno sighed, pulling off his charred boots and putting a new pair on. “I didn’t even get paid for my very first delivery!”

  “It’s okay, Luno,” said Chooch. “As long as you’re safe and browned.”

  “No, Chooch, it’s not okay!” Luno snapped. “My dad’s going to kill me!”

  “I must agree with you, Mr. Zorgoochi,” said Clive. “This is unacceptable. I suggest you return to Inferno9 and inform the Infernals of Galactic Pizza Convention Protocol number 432, ‘the recipient must pay for any pizza—’”

  “Don’t you think I did that already?” Luno groaned, his head in his hands.

  “Well, we still love you!” cried Chooch as he lunged toward Luno and Clive with open giant metal arms. “Group hug!”

  “Okay! Okay!” Luno gasped, locked in a death embrace, smashed against Clive. “Thank you, now let me go!”

  “Define ‘love,’ Mr. Zorgoochi,” said Clive.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Fuzzy Wuzzies Aren’t So Fuzzy

  KA-CHUNK! KA-CHUNK! KA-CHUNCK!

  “What’s that?” Chooch asked.

  “I believe it is the sound of the delivery pod’s auxiliary fan belt coming loose again, which will soon stop cooling the engine and cause the atomic reactor to overheat, then explode,” Clive said, not looking up from his device. “So you may consider locating a replacement part.”

  Luno quickly switched on the radar to find a repair shop in the vicinity, but then realized he’d have to use his dad’s cosmic credit account to pay for it. Luno could just hear Dad scolding him for wasting money when he could’ve just fixed the fan belt himself. Luno would have to figure out another way, a way that would show Dad he could deal with something as simple as a busted fan belt and not blow up the pod (or himself). However, it was kind of difficult to come up with a solution with the echo of Chooch’s metal stomach constantly growling and Clive’s litany of annoying questions about absolutely everything around them.

  “Hey, look!” Chooch suddenly shouted, pointing out the windshield.

  Luno turned to see a massive holo billboard hovering over a lone asteroid in the distance.

  “‘Free Spare Parts’!” Luno read, squinting at the fuzzy letters. “Let’s go!”

  “I am afraid that is not what is written on the sign, Mr. Zorgoochi,” said Clive. “It actually reads ‘Mold Spore Convention’ and I strongly suggest we attend.”

  “No it doesn’t!” Chooch shouted. “It says ‘Fresh Baked Cookies’ and I’m starving!”

  They may have argued about what the sign actually said, but all agreed that they should land on that asteroid immediately.

  Luno didn’t have much time to think about how odd it was that each of them read something different, as they were touching down and scrambling to be the first one out of the pod.

  “Hello?” Luno called as he swung open the hatch and climbed down to the dusty surface.

  Through the greenish haze, Luno spotted a towering structure nearby, which he headed toward with Clive and Chooch trailing behind.

  “So where are all the cookies, Luno?” asked Chooch, looking around.

  “We must locate the convention center, Mr. Zorgoochi,” said Clive. “We do not want to miss the mold spores.”

  It didn’t take Luno very long to figure out that there were no free spare parts, let alone a mold spore convention or cookies. The place had an air of desolation and emptiness. Luno moved forward with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, but knew he had to fix the pod, even if it meant facing mortal danger. Or worse, a disappointed dad.

  The closer they came to the strange jury-rigged mess of metal beams, engine parts, and various space junk, the more Luno’s head throbbed. Hovering above was the massive buzzing holo billboard.

  “What is this thing?” asked Chooch, touching a metal girder.

  “I think it’s a transmitter that beams out the signal for the sign,” Luno said, looking up at the 100-story-tall words “Free Spare Parts” flickering high above them. At least that’s what Luno saw. He rubbed his eyes. His head pounded along with the strange whirring pulse the structure seemed to give off.

  “Actually, this somewhat ramshackle assemblage is not only a transmitter,” said Clive, “but a receiver as well.”

  In the far-off distance, Luno spotted what appeared to be a small ship and three dark silhouettes. He waved at them through the mist, but they didn’t wave back. Strange.

  As they cautiously walked toward the figures, Luno thought that maybe they could help him find a replacement fan belt.

  Of course there was always the distinct possibility that they would kill him.

  “I’m scared, Luno,” said Chooch, hanging on to Luno’s arm, dragging him down. “I changed my mind. I don’t want cookies anymore. Let’s go!”

  “Pardon me,” Clive said, approaching one of the figures. “Can you direct us to the mold spore convention?”

  Luno walked up and saw that Clive was talking to an em
pty space suit.

  “I say,” said Clive, “which way to the convention?”

  “It’s just a suit, Clive,” said Luno. “There’s no one in it.”

  The ship, like the space suits, appeared to have been abandoned for junk a long time ago. Luno walked around to the ship’s engine panel. It opened with a long squeeeak.

  “Hey! Just what we needed!” said Luno, yanking out a fan belt and examining it. “I guess there were spare parts after all. What a break!”

  As Luno happily hurried back to the delivery pod to replace the part, Clive and Chooch followed him.

  “We are going to miss the convention, Mr. Zorgoochi,” said Clive.

  “Don’t you get it?” said Luno. “There is no convention!”

  Luno climbed to the top of the delivery pod. The ship and the space suits were probably dumped there years ago. The galaxy was full of space trash. And the billboard, well, it was probably just malfunctioning and no one had bothered to fix it. Besides, none of this mattered because he had found a fan belt, so now he could repair the pod and make his next delivery.

  But most importantly, his father would be proud of him.

  Luno yanked on the pod’s engine panel and thought again about how weird it was that each of them saw something different on the sign, something each of them wanted, almost as if the holo billboard could somehow project their thoughts. But before he came to the conclusion that it was kind of eerie, the panel popped open with a p-twang!

  “This’ll just take a few minutes,” Luno’s voice echoed from inside the engine.

  Starved for intellectual stimulation, Clive scanned the asteroid’s surface with his device to determine its molecular composition. Starved for cookies, Chooch wandered around looking for some, wondering why anyone would be so mean as to advertise fresh baked cookies when there really weren’t any.

  Chooch meandered aimlessly until a small noise caught his attention. It was a bit like a squeak combined with a giggle. He looked around, and out from the craggy ground right below his feet popped a fuzzy little critter.