by Ralph Church
“Oh. Perhaps you know a girl who’s willing.”
“I know ’em willing and able. And not willing, but willing to be convinced.”
“Then can you introduce me to one?”
The Fonz looked at Mork with admiration. “You are a direct person. It’s not that easy. Hey.”
“But,” Mork said, about to commit an Orkian crime, that of flattery, “you are known throughout the galaxy for your expertise in this matter.”
“I am?” Fonzie recovered quickly. “Oh, I am, of course. It is better than having you walk around the town by yourself. Okay, I’ll get you a date. But first you gotta go upstairs and put on some of Richie’s clothes. I mean, you gotta look decent.”
“Thank you,” Mork said, walking up the stairs to Richie’s room. “My suit does need pressing.”
“Don’t thank me. You still need a lot of work before you meet a girl. It’s a good thing you got me.” As soon as he was alone, Fonzie sat down at the kitchen table and tried to think of whom he could phone. “Should I get Gloria Hickey for him? Naw, I don’t want to freak her out.” Fonz snapped his fingers. “Hey! Maybe the Hooper triplets! Now, there’s a six-pack to go. Naw, I don’t want to freak him out.” Fonzie took out his comb and began to do his hair in front of a mirror, knowing that his best thinking was always brought out by the sight of his own beauty. And, sure enough, the brainstorm was not long in coming. He made his call and then yelled for Mork to hurry and come downstairs.
Within a second, Mork came flying down the staircase, hitting the wall hard. Fonzie shouted and ran over, asking, “Are you all right?”
Mork jumped to his feet. ‘Was that sufficiently hurried? Is that how you humans begin the dating ritual?” He looked around and didn’t understand.
“Where is she? If she’s here, she must be tiny.”
“Hey!” The Fonz rocked back on his heels. “You have got to calm down. Wow! And we haven’t even gotten to the exciting part. Now, before you meet her, there’re a few things you should get straight.” Mork spread out his legs, making them rigid, and held his arms out, also straight and hard.
“What are you doing!” Fonz almost shouted.
“Getting a few things straight. I began with my legs, and then went to the arms. I would do my neck, but it cuts off gerblink to my finger. I would probably die.”
“Hey!” Fonz said. He couldn’t wait for this to be over. “Relax. I want to talk about kissing.”
“I have been giving that thought. I do not know why I would want to do it.”
“For pleasure. Isn’t there anything you do on your planet that gives you physical pleasure?”
Mork moved away and wanted to hide behind his arms, the traditional, but outlawed, sign of embarrassment. “Just one,” he whispered. “But it’s against the law. I couldn’t tell you.”
Fonz stood back on his heel and spread his arms. “Hey! We’re having a talk. A man-to…to—whatever, talk. So tell me.”
Mork put his finger up and thought. If he wished to learn this dating ritual, he must give away this most precious of Orkian secrets. But he could clear Fonzie’s mind of it later, so he said, “Okay. When a woman of Ork touches a man here”—Mork touched Fonzie’s wrist—“it drives an Orkian man ka-bloink.” Mork began to tremble at the thought.
“Ka-bloink?” Fonzie shook his head in disbelief. “Then what?”
Mork leaned toward Fonzie. “It has only happened to me once. I had this ka-bloink come over me and I couldn’t control myself.” Mork covered himself with his arms. “I—I became a zoowtz and jerked her earlobe.” He uncovered himself. “I sincerely regret it.”
“Hey! Listen, I would regret it, too.”
There was a knock on the door. “Don’t move,” Fonz said, and, of course, Mork froze. Fonzie rushed to the door, opened it, and grabbed the young woman standing there. She was an Earthling named Laverne. Fonzie kissed her passionately. “Give me two minutes. He’s not ready yet.”
Laverne’s eyes swooned with pleasure. “For you, Fonzie, I’d give up milk and Pepsi forever.”
“Hey! That’s beautiful.” Fonz slammed the door and rushed back to Mork. “Listen, if you want to get along with women, you gotta say nice things. You gotta flatter them.”
“I can do that,” Mork answered.
“And if it gets to where you don’t know what to do, just do what Laverne does. She’s been around and knows the ropes.”
Mork nodded with understanding. “Oh, I know the ropes, too. I can tie a square knot, a half-hitch, a sheepshank—”
“Hey, you’re not trying to get a merit badge here.”
The front door opened and Laverne strolled in, trying to seem sexy. “Fonz, you said two minutes.” Laverne batted her eyes at Mork. “So, you must be Morky. Pleased to meet ya. I’m Laverne.” She put out her hand, tilted in Mork’s direction, for him to kiss, in the European fashion.
Mork parted his fingers into units of two and scissored Laverne’s hand, in the traditional Orkian handshake. “Na-No, Na-No. I, too, am pleased.”
Laverne showed her prominent front teeth in a weak smile. “Uh-huh, nice.” She quickly turned her head toward the Fonz. “Na-No, Na-No?”
“Well,” Fonzie said in a loud voice, “I must be going.” He began to make his retreat. “Two’s company, three’s a crowd.”
Mork nodded his head vigorously, impressed. “That’s very good. May I quote you?”
Laverne’s eyes widened as she listened to Mork. Laverne began to trail after Fonzie, her voice worried. “Fonz, did you stick me with another jerk?”
“Jerk?” Mork repeated, and he began to violently go up and down, his arms yanking invisible ropes, his body bending almost in half at the waist. He stopped just as quickly as he had begun and looked at the staring Fonz and Laverne. “How was that?”
Laverne smiled patiently. “Fine,” she said in a babyish voice to humor Mork. “Very good jerk. “Fonz!” she cried out, reaching for him.
Fonzie grabbed her hand and began to return it to her. “Look,” he whispered, “he’s a foreigner and not used to the way we do things. Give him a chance.”
Laverne always believed everything Fonzie told her, so she was reassured. “Okay,” she said and looked doubtfully at Mork. “But tell him not to jerk any more. It makes me nervous.”
Fonzie nodded. “You got it.” He called out to Mork. “Don’t jerk any more. I’m gonna split-amondo. I’ll be up in my room, so if you need anything, just yell.” Fonz took one last look at Mork, and, shaking his head, mumbled, “A square knot. Wow!” Fonzie quickly turned and went up the stairs. Laverne sadly watched him go. And then she looked back at Mork.
“Soo,” she said, casually strolling in Mork’s direction, “you’re Mork.”
“From Ork,” he said.
“Uh, I’m not the greatest with geography. But isn’t Ork just off of Greece?”
“Bin, bin,” Mork said, the informational no. “Ork has been off grease for three bleems. For lubricants we use fif, seve, or the ever-popular limakook.”
Laverne decided he was crazy. She nodded stupidly at him. “Isn’t that nice?” she said. “I never have understood why we don’t use limakook.”
“Your engines could not handle it. They’d blow up and pollute the air, or destroy the galaxy.”
Laverne watched him carefully as she edged her way toward the couch. “That’s a good reason,” she said. Maybe he’s kidding, she told herself, trying to cheer up.
Mork looked carefully at Laverne to find an item about which he could flatter her. Because it was a date arranged by Fonzie, Laverne had gone all out and had bought a flower for her hair. Mork chose that. “I shall flatter you now.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“You have a pretty fungus growing out of your hair.”
Laverne began to thank him. “Oh, you sweet talker, you.” And then she realized what Mork had said. “A fungus?”
These Earthlings understand so little of science, Mork thought. Well, he woul
d teach her. “Fungus: any of a major group of fungi, including mushrooms and jequts, molds and mildew.”
He was a cut-up, Laverne decided. “Oh, yeah,” she answered to give him back a taste of his sarcasm. “I always wear mildew when I want to impress a guy.”
Mork nodded. This flattery ritual seemed boring.
“I’m impressed,” he said, giving it one last fling. “Is it time to kiss yet?” Mork leaned toward her and began to move his lips one way and then the other, sliding them back and forth.
Laverne watched him with disgust. “Uh, I don’t think so.”
“Sorry. I am new to this dating ritual. What is the next step?”
Laverne was beginning to be charmed by his frank admission of ignorance. “Well,” she said uncertainly, moving toward the couch. “Why don’t we sit down?”
Laverne sat down and began to arrange herself when she noticed that Mork had sat down with his head in the couch. “Oh!” she said, moving away. “Would ya look at that!”
Mork got to his feet. “Fax?” Mork said, looking around. When an Orkan looks alarmed, as Laverne did, it is usually because a fax has flown into the room. A fax is a green insect that bites, like our mosquito, only the itching welt doesn’t appear until another month passes. When he noticed nothing was there, he said, “Look at what?”
Laverne relaxed. “Never mind. It’s gone now.
Mork looked at her. “You also sit Fonz-like. Ah, must copy and adjust.” Mork sat down normally, but right next to Laverne, his body touching hers all along one side.
Boy, he learns fast, she thought, pushing him away and moving to one end of the couch. Mork, remembering Fonzie’s advice, copied her. He moved to the other end. Laverne crossed her legs, and so did Mork. She pulled her skirt down to cover her knees, and Mork pulled at his pants legs. She fluffed her hair and Mork did the same. Laverne still hadn’t noticed. But when she turned her head at him and put her arm along the side of the couch, she noticed he was in the same posture. She smiled uncertainly. Mork also flashed his teeth at her. She frowned and so did he.
“Your move,” he said.
“Are you making fun of me?” Laverne yelled, putting her hands on her hips, half-rising. “I don’t like it when guys make fun of me. I’ll give you a fat lip.” Laverne made her hand into a fist and shook it threateningly.
“Oh, oh,” Mork said. “Rejection. Return to hatching state!” And he curled up, putting his bloink in his mouth.
Laverne was moved by this pathetic sight. “Hey, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to reject you. It’s okay,” she said, moving over to his side.
Mork still stayed all cuddled up, moaning. “I just wanted to experience the dating process and make friends,” he said pathetically. On Ork, however, his behavior is considered more like our anger. It is as violent as they get.
It made Laverne feel mean. “Aw. I know how you feel. You’re a stranger and I should consider that. Hey.” She reached for him and her hand touched his wrist. “I want to be your friend.”
Mork’s legs shot out and his hair puffed. “Zeep, zeep, zeep, zeep,” he began to say, his head bobbing each time. Laverne recoiled. “Guzoom, guzoom, guzoom,” Mork went, slowing down.
“What happened?”
“You touched me. Relate, relate, relate. In control, in control.” Mork’s head continued to twitch. “I don’t understand,” Laverne said, reaching for his wrist again, but this time with all her fingers. “All I did was this.” And she took a firm hold.
“A gang neb!” Mork screamed. His arms flung outward and he jumped to his feet. “Neb-zeep, Neb-zeep.” He was standing in the middle of the room now, his head jerking. “I’m in control. Gang neb!” he screamed again, losing control. “Give me your earlobe,” he said, turning on Laverne, his eyes shining.
Laverne crawled off of the couch, trying to get to her feet and keep an eye on Mork. “What?” she mumbled, panicked. She had known guys who were starved for affection, but this was ridiculous.
“Your earlobe!” Mork said with significance, as if he had just named the most prized possession in the universe. “Your delicious, pert earlobe!”
Laverne began to run around the sofa, keeping it between herself and Mork. But he pointed his bloink and the couch slid to one side, clearing his path. Laverne’s eyes widened and she made a run for the stairs, but Mork caught up to her, his hand in the Orkian handshake position, ready to clutch her wonderful earlobe.
Laverne had no choice. She had to resort to her ultimate weapon against crazed blind dates. She kicked him in the shins.
Mork had no reaction. Orkans have no nerves. But he thought Laverne’s action was part of the Earthling dating ritual, and he wanted her earlobe so badly that he immediately kicked her in the shins, hoping that would please her.
“Ow!” Laverne said, her hand reaching for the hurt spot. “I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot.”
Mork had also grabbed his leg and begun hopping, in imitation.” Oh,” he said, embarrassed that he had followed directions badly. Using his other foot, he kicked her in the other shin. “Now, give me your earlobe,” he said, tired of all this flattery.
Laverne screamed as Mark’s fingers got hold of her earlobe and he trembled, saying, “Nep-zizzam!” his hair blossoming into a cloud.
“Fonz!” Laverne yelled. “Help me! Help me! He wants my earlobe!”
***
7
Mindy had spent all day trying to explain Mork’s behavior to her father. Fred complained that as soon as she had left home, she had begun to hang around with hippies and deadbeats. He had asked her earlier what Mork did for a living, and Mindy had made the mistake of saying that he didn’t have a job. She was worried whether or not Mork had really followed her directions. She phoned after lunch, but there was no answer. She couldn’t remember if she had told him to sit still in the apartment, because if she had, then of course he wouldn’t answer the phone. Then she worried about a fire or some other disaster occurring with Mork sitting motionless through the catastrophe. Maybe Orkans couldn’t burn, she told herself to cheer up. And, in fact, they don’t. They were fireproofed many bleams ago. But they could smoulder to death if their automatic sprinkler doesn’t work. They have water systems in both pinkies that are replenished whenever they drink with their bloink.
Fred made an attempt to convince Mindy to have dinner with him. He asked her because he thought he might find out more about this suspicious new boyfriend. Mindy, anxious to get home, refused too quickly and firmly to calm Fred. And after she rushed off to go home, he debated with himself for some time over just how nosy it would be if he dropped in on Mindy unannounced.
When Mindy got to her apartment, she was surprised to find that Mork was moving around—not only moving around, but talking. He was standing near the phone, watching it carefully, and saying, “Grenzel?”
“Mork, hello.”
“Greetings.”
“Why are you talking to the phone?”
“I think your radio is not functioning,” Mork said. “It plays only one tune.”
“Mork, that’s not a radio. It’s a telephone.”
“Ah, your primitive communication device that is your mother figure. But how did you get hold of one of Ork’s hit songs?”
“I don’t understand, Mork.”
Mork picked up the receiver and held it out. All Mindy heard was the dial tone. Mork began to snap his fingers. “The instrumental to Grenzel. Very big hit.”
Mindy took off her coat and sighed. Mork looked at her with concern. “I have caused heavy sigh,” he said, sighing heavily. “Why is that?”
Mindy began to pace “Mork, you are so far away from passing for an Earth—I mean a human being, that I don’t know what to do.”
“Perhaps you should accompany me for the next few days until I become accustomed to your world.”
“I can’t do that, Mork,” Mindy said, her voice strained. “I have to go to work every day, except for Sunday.”
“W
ork? What is work?”
“You know, a job. To earn money.”
“You mean you have to work to make money?”
“Of course.”
Mork put his finger in the air. ‘What a novel concept. Does everyone work?”
“Well, almost everyone.”
“Who doesn’t work?”
“Well, let’s see. Children, uh, students—”
“What are students?”
“Students are young people who study. You know, they learn things.”
“Your old people do not learn anything?”
Mindy thought of her father. “Some of them don’t. I don’t understand, Mork. Don’t you have to work?”
“No. On Ork the only reason to work is to see the universe.”
“Well, I’m afraid this brings up another problem—which is, how are you going to make money?”
“Mindy, I am from a highly advanced race. Do you think my superiors would send me to this planet without money?” Mork opened the closet and rummaged around inside until he found a sack. The bag he brought out was enormous and Mindy’s eyes lit up.
“Wow! All that is money?” she asked.
“Of course,” Mork said. He plunked the sack down in front of her and opened it.
Mindy peered inside, looked puzzled, and then reached in, digging.
“Careful, you’re spilling,” Mork said as grains of sand fell on the floor.
“Mork, this is just sand.”
Mork barked his strange laugh. “Ha! Ha! You Earthlings consider nothing above humor. That is merely part of my family fortune.”
“Mork, on Earth, sand is as common as dirt.”
Mork stared down at his sack. “You mean this is nothing here? It is not worth more than a broken hockle?”
Mindy answered quietly. “I’m afraid not.”
“Well, what do you use as money on this planet?”
Mindy began to explain, but she thought better of it and reached for her purse. “You caught me on a good day,” she said, pulling out a five-dollar bill. “I actually have some.”