and sealed it like glue with the gunk that had hung
from the Graylian robot’s mechanical tongue.
Then she stood back, her eyes going wide.
Something peculiar was starting inside…
At the heart of that shimmering, luminous sphere,
a new kind of vapor began to appear.
It started quite slow. At first, just a puff,
from one of the tubes that was pumping the stuff.
A new kind of gas was replacing the old,
and the new stuff, in truth, was a sight to behold!
Inside of the glass, to Katrina’s surprise,
was a music, it seemed,
Meanwhile, outside of the Boredom Machine,
the battle was growing ferocious and mean.
The creatures of Earth, the zorgles and all,
were locked in a brazen and barbarous brawl:
There was hair being wrangled, eyes being poked,
toes being twisted and throats being choked!
Morty and Winnie were taking their lumps!
The sphinxes and griffins were covered with bumps!
The dragons, the yetis, the phoenixes too,
the pixies and fauns and the Gillygaloo,
were lost in fracas of wallops and bonks,
of punches and pummels and clobbers and clonks!
But in spite of their vow that they never would quit,
in spite of their bravery, gumption and grit,
they were starting to tire, losing their hopes,
like a boxer, pinned down, his back on the ropes.
The Octomabots, they too could surmise,
with the ominous gleam in their ominous eyes
that the battle was finally taking its toll,
and now was their moment for taking control.
So half of them suddenly stood in a row,
like dancers in some sort of musical show.
They spread out their tentacles, weaving them all
with the others beside them, creating a wall.
Then they came forward, inch after inch,
enclosing their prey in a sinister pinch.
So Morty and Winnie and all of the rest,
were hemmed in a corner, compacted, compressed.
They were forced in a clumsy, uncomfortable pose,
being elbow to elbow to shoulder to nose;
and being so crowded, so awkwardly crammed,
they couldn’t fight back. They were thoroughly jammed!
Then the Octomabots, who were still in the air,
could pluck up their prey without even a care.
In this way, the creatures were quickly re-caught,
in spite of how bravely their battle was fought.
The Behemoth, at last, was the only one left;
but even with all his incredible heft,
he couldn’t fight back; his chances were slim.
There were simply too many—even for him!
So alas, my good reader, the battle was done,
and the Octomabots had clumsily won.
The creatures of Earth, I’m sorry to say,
were locked up again, without any delay.
The bolts were refastened, the cages refilled,
and Morty, of course, wasn’t terribly thrilled.
Once more, he was hunched on the floor of his cell,
and wondering: Where was Katrina Katrell?!
Understandably, Morty was all in a huff.
“Adventures!” he grumbled. “Enough is enough!”
Then the entranceway door, it opened up wide,
and Dullbert came wearily strolling inside.
He stood for a moment, one hand on his hip,
the other one thoughtfully tapping his lip.
He took a step forward and finally spoke.
“So, you tried to escape? Oh, please! What a joke.
There’s no way to leave here, or didn’t you know?
We’re up on the moon! There’s nowhere to go!”
He’s right, Morty thought, feeling thoroughly beat,
beset by a feeling of utter defeat.
He puffed out a rather disheartening sigh.
While Winnie (as usual) started to cry.
But just as she started to sob in her cell,
her tears were cut short by the toll of a bell.
It resounded like thunder. It rang and it rang.
It chimed with a terrible, desperate clang!!
Hearing it, Dullbert was suddenly tense.
“The alarms?” he exclaimed. “That doesn’t make sense!”
He examined his cages, dismayed and distraught.
There’s one of them missing! he suddenly thought.
To Morty he said, “Hey you, with the fur.
That girl who you came with, what happened to her?”
He went to his bank of surveillance displays,
showing dungeons and cells in an intricate maze.
“He let out a shriek as he peered at the screen:
He stabbed at some buttons (he pushed quite a few),
and the Hoarder of Boredom split open in two,
revealing Katrina, who cowered inside.
She had nowhere to go. She had nowhere to hide.
But amid all those wires and Graylian gear,
all that anyone saw was the luminous sphere.
You see, my good reader, that circle of glass,
was filling with billows of colorful gas!
Where once it was filled with a nebulous gray,
the Tedium Steam was all washing away.
It was being replaced with the colorful threads,
of a gas made of glittering yellows and reds;
and not only those, but a great many more,
more colors than anyone’s thought of before!
There was olive and orange and lavender, too!
There was purple and puce and cerulean blue!
There was violet, vermillion, viridian-green!
More colors, I’d say, than you’ve ever seen!
They were blindingly bright, seeming never to cease:
There was burgundy, lilac, and even cerise,
all mingling with others (like aquamarine),
swirling and whirling inside the machine!
Dullbert just stood there in shock and dismay,
He was utterly stunned, didn’t know what to say.
He whimpered and waggled his Graylian head.
“You didn’t!” he cried. “You couldn’t!” he said.
“You’re wrong,” said Katrina, “I certainly could.
I fixed it all up…I fixed it up good!”
“Fixed it?! You wrecked it! How incredibly mean!
You’ve demolished my Hoarder of Boredom Machine!”
“Not at all,” said Katrina, shaking her head.
“It’s not wrecked. It’s not broken. It’s better instead!”
“You rascal!” cried Dullbert. “You’re lying to me!”
He lowered his voice, in a pitiful plea.
“Listen, Katrina,” he said with a sigh,
“without boredom for fuel, my planet…will die.”
“Wait,” said Katrina, “see, this is my hunch:
This new kind of gas packs a powerful punch.”
Dullbert was doubtful. He wasn’t convinced.
He gaped at the colors. He grimaced and winced.
“Katrina, just look at it—puff after puff…
It’s disgusting! What is it, this colorful stuff?!”
Katrina just smiled, and turning around,
she admired the wonderful substance she found.
She folded her arms, looking up at the glass.
“I think that I’ll call it:
Chapter 18
Enchantium what?!
Enchantium what?!” was Dullbert’s reply. “I imagine you think I’m a gullible guy! ‘Enchantium Gas?’ It’s a fib! It’s a hoax! It’s a trick, as they say, with mirrors and smok
es!”
“But no,” said Katrina, “I’m willing to bet
this stuff has more power than anything yet!”
“Colors?!” cried Dullbert. “They’re useless! They’re junk!
And to claim they have power? That’s nothing but bunk!”
He turned to the dials and his video screen.
“Just look at these gauges, you’ll see what I mean.”
But guess what, my good reader. Katrina was right!
To Dullbert’s surprise (and to Dullbert’s delight),
his energy gauges were spinning like mad,
much faster, you see, than they formerly had.
“Amazing!” breathed Dullbert. “In fact, you’re correct!
There’s more energy here than I’d ever expect!
But Katrina,” he whispered, “what did you do?
This substance—it’s almost too good to be true!”
But of course it was true, and Katrina explained
her modification was simply attained
by giving the wires a bit of a snip,
switching them round in a bit of a flip.
In reversing the flow, she had hoped to coerce
the whole apparatus to work in reverse.
In place of a steam that was dreary and dim,
it sought out a gas full of vigor and vim!
(And if you don’t believe such a vapor exists,
a gas made of vibrantly colorful mists,
then shut your eyes now, scrunch them up tight!
And you’ll see it—like flashes of colourful light.
That’s how it begins, as thoughts in your mind.
They spiral and tumble, they whirl and unwind.
Like Tedium Steam, they come out of your head—
but not when you’re bored,
when you’re thinking instead.)
“I’m sorry,” said Dullbert, “for being so cruel.
This ‘Enchantium Gas’ is a far better fuel.
You’ve convinced me, Katrina. I have to concede:
I see now enchantment ’s the thing that we need.
Excitement and wonder, amusement and mirth—
That’s what we need from the people of Earth!”
Then he turned to his panel of buttons and light.
“Okay then,” he said, “let’s put everything right.”
He led everyone out of their cages and crates,
and down to the somber Moonagerie gates.
There, rising up like the pipes on a stove,
like a thicket of trees in a curious grove,
were the Graylian rockets, preparing for flight,
rumbling and steaming and teeming with light.
“Here we are,” Dullbert said, with a generous grin.
“All aboard everyone! Let’s get everyone in!”
The first to climb up was Katrina Katrell,
then all of the creatures (the zorgles as well),
until all were aboard, the great and the small,
with the lonely Behemoth the last of them all.
Then the rockets took off! They went spiraling high,
through the glitter of stars and the black of the sky. . .
Meanwhile, on Earth, very little had changed.
Papers were shuffled and goods were exchanged.
Most people, you see, were the same as before.
They were leading their lives, no less and no more,
stuck in their offices, buildings and cars,
never once looking up at the twinkle of stars.
(To so many people, the world was a bore.
It might even remind you of Graybalon-Four…)
So perhaps you’d imagine their utter surprise
when early one evening, from out of the skies,
came an army of Graylian rockets from space,
sweeping out of the clouds at a perilous pace.
They arrived and alighted with effortless ease,
like feathers at play on a delicate breeze.
When the dust settled down, the doors opened wide,
and creatures came out of the cabins inside.
The crowds that had gathered all pointed in fear.
Nearly everyone thought that invaders were here.
They shrieked when the steps of the rockets unfurled,
“Monsters!” they cried. “They’re invading the world!”
But then they saw something they didn’t expect.
It extinguished their panic. It made them reflect.
What they saw was a girl, just a regular child.
She waved to them all. She nodded and smiled.
At her side was a creature, all covered with hair.
A warthog, perhaps…or maybe a bear.
Well, whatever it was, it was certainly weird.
It had horns on its head and a whiskery beard.
The TV reporters, they clustered and swarmed.
“What happened?!” they cried. “We must be informed!”
The girl was accosted with cameras and mics.
They were waved in her face like skewers and spikes.
The reporters cried, “Who?!” The reporters cried, “How?!”
“What, when and where?! You must tell us, right now!”
The girl found her voice. It was clear as a bell.
“ My name,” she explained , “is
These creatures aren’t aliens, isn’t that clear?
They don’t come from space.
They come from right here”
Everyone gaped, they ogled and glared.
They gawked, rather rudely, and everyone stared.
That’s when they knew, with the merest of looks,
that these were the creatures from stories and books!
So they yelped with a joy they could barely conceal.
The creatures weren’t myths! They were actually real!
In that very moment, the people were changed.
Their minds were expanded, their thoughts rearranged.
Enchantment was coursing through all of their veins.
It swept through their bodies and into their brains,
where a pressure built up, like a teakettle pot,
It grew and it grew, then it popped like a shot!
It flew out all at once! It spiraled and swirled!
It erupted from people all over the world!
For the very first time in a great many years,
Enchantium Gases came out of their ears!
Then everyone watched as the creatures dispersed.
It began with the merfolk, they were the first.
They wished to return to the fish and the foam,
and the wind and the waves of their watery home.
The phoenixes then set their bodies ablaze,
and took to the sky like a flock of flambés.
Then went the pixies, the ogres, the gnomes,
who trundled away to their forested homes.
The yetis were next. They went lumbering off,
each one of them fluffing their flocculent coif.
The griffins and gargoyles said their goodbyes,
and leapt from their feet and into the skies.
The sphinxes, gorgons, the Gillygaloo,
the satyrs, the centaurs, the hippogriff too—
they all headed home, after bidding farewell
to their savior…a girl named Katrina Katrell.
At last, the Behemoth went thrumping away
(but where he was going—well, no one could say).
Then bidding goodbye to the windigo clans,
Katrina shook each of their leathery hands.
Winnie stepped up, and Katrina was squeezed
so breathlessly tight that she started to wheeze.
Next was the zorgle named Cyril DeYoung.
(the finest of flingers who ever had flung).
“Kiddo,” he said, in his leisurely drawl,
“I bet you’d be deadly at Zorgally Ball.”
Then he and the zorgles, the windigo too,
went back to the mountains of Zorgamazoo.
Dullbert came forward to bid his goodbye.
“Katrina,” he said, “I promise to try
to rescue my race from its Graylian haze.
The time has arrived for changing our ways.
I’ll give them a bit of enlightened advice:
that sometimes, a little excitement is nice.
That’s what I’ll do—start spreading the word!
Or my name’s not Dullbert Hohummer, the Third!”
Then to Katrina’s tremendous surprise
the tiniest sparkle came into his eyes,
and a smidgeon of color came into his face,
as he climbed in his rocket…and flew into space.
Once Dullbert was gone, once the rockets had flown,
Katrina and Morty were standing alone.
Zorgamazoo Page 11