Balloon Boy and the Porcupine Pals: Antihooliganism

by Mort Gloss

  ****

  "Balloon, why are there pictures of us on the wall of Rita's pod?" asked Russ.

  "Who is this Lord Protector guy?" demanded Victory.

  "Do you have the stuff we need to make a universal translator?" implored Tom.

  The four travelers had reconvened in a domed building, a large circular shaped structure in the middle of the various residential pods. There was a meeting hall in the center of the building, with offices and other various rooms around the outer edges. At Pedro's direction, Rita had taken Tom and Russ to the location after completion of their meal. Balloon and Victory had likewise been led by Pedro.

  Balloon was dumbfounded, unsure who he should respond to first. As he was trying to sort through the inquiries, Pedro spoke to him in Zaxmorthian.

  "My Lord Protector, this is the village gathering facility. It seems appropriate that somebody of your stature should occupy the space. I apologize in the offer, as it is likely not anything near the accommodations with which you are accustomed. Nevertheless, I hope it will suffice, as it is the best we have to offer."

  "I thanks y'all, Pedro. This here spot is plum fine."

  "And is there anything you will be requiring before I retire for the evening?"

  "I can't think a nothin'. Y'alls is taken real good care of me 'n everbody else here."

  "Very well then, sir. I will be off." He directed his attention to Rita, who kept her eyes firmly on the floor as he spoke. "Your services are no longer required. You may go." Without a word in response, Rita kept her head down and quickly exited the gathering facility.

  "Again, thank you for your presence, Lord Protector. May you rest well this night."

  "I thank y'alls fer yer hospitality," answered Balloon.

  Pedro walked toward the exit of the meeting room. As he was about to leave, a short, stout man approached and whispered into his ear. Pedro shook his head with understanding and turned to look at Balloon and the others. He came back into the room and stood before Balloon.

  "Lord Protector, I am puzzled by a report I just received regarding the arrival of a First Class Protector from a PROT command ship."

  Balloon didn't know how to respond. "Wha?" was all he could muster.

  "This First Class Protector is apparently also investigating the petty hooligans?"

  Balloon's face showed absolute confusion. Russ intervened. "What's going on, Balloon? You look worried."

  "They's askin' 'bout some kinda first class somethin' 'er other doin' some type a investigatin'."

  Pedro interrupted. "If you would like, I can contact the First Classwoman and inform her of your location in our village."

  "Now what's he saying?" asked Russ.

  "He sayin' if'n we all wants he can call the First Class somethin' 'n tell 'em where we is 'n all that."

  "Balloon, he's talking about the people they've sent to capture us," said Victory. "Remember what Pedro told you at the feeding station? Pedro thinks we are here to find us."

  "Now hold on just a second, Victoria, you're making even less sense than usual. How can we be trying to find ourselves?" asked Tom.

  "You imbecile, just pay attention," answered Victory. "When we were at the feeding station, Pedro told Balloon he thought you and Russ were some kind of criminals that were hiding on this planet. Balloon guessed about it and figured out that we, as in all of us, are the criminals Pedro was talking about. Somehow, those guys you morons attacked before tracked us to this planet and now they're coming. You with me now, genius?"

  Pedro cleared his throat, sending a high-pitched hiss toward Balloon.

  "So what y'all want me to do?" asked Balloon.

  "Tell him we don't need anybody's assistance," answered Victory.

  Balloon looked to Tom and Russ for confirmation. Tom shrugged and Russ nodded yes.

  "We ain't got no need for thems nohow," said Balloon in Zaxmorthian. "We gots everthang we needs right here."

  Pedro raised his right eyebrow as Balloon spoke. "Very well," he responded, turning to leave. "I shall do nothing, as Your Eminence has indicated aid is not required."

  "Thank ya' kindly," said Balloon with a grin. With that, Pedro exited the facility, leaving the four traveling companions on their own.

  "What did he say?" asked Russ.

  "He ain't gonna do nothin' nohow," answered Balloon. "Then he said somethin' 'bout M&Ms not bein' acquired."

  "M&Ms? First they have taco soup and now this. Unbelievably good luck," said Tom.

  "Alright, Balloon, you got some splainin' to do," said Russ. "I want to know why there's a picture of you, and what appears to be Victory, Tom, me and the single-wide in that servant girl Rita's pod."

  "Maybe they's snapped her when we all showed up?" ventured Balloon.

  "Good try," said Tom, "but we would prefer if you would just guess why."

  Balloon went through the familiar process, spitting out the answer as it filled his head. "They's was this guy way back when, who everbody here calls 'Beloved Protector,' seein' as how he saved everbody in this here galaxy by gittin' that ball o' power 'n puttin' her in the jist right spot. And anyhow, he done told 'em what was gonna happen later on down the road, and then they's paintin' pictures 'n art 'n all that kinda stuff 'bout what he done told 'em."

  "What, he predicted the future?" asked Russ.

  "You got her figured."

  "Well that's just great," said Tom, throwing up his hands. "Their beloved hero drew a picture of you and now it's hanging up in Rita's pod. I'm a little annoyed though, Balloon; I'm totally out of focus and in the background of the picture. You'd think I would have been up front, based on my looks and all."

  "Wait a second though, Balloon," inquired Russ, "why would this piece of art be hanging in some random pod? Why is it so important to the people around here?"

  "On account of them thinkin' that there picture yonder is a picture a somethin' big."

  "Well obviously, Balloon," laughed Tom, "you are a rather tremendous man, size-wise anyway."

  "What do you mean by 'big?'" asked Victory.

  "They's all got this idea, on account a that Beloved Protector who lived back yonder, that some fella's gonna come 'round these parts 'n save 'em all from that there sickness Victory's dad's head's 'bout to splode from."

  "Wait, didn't that already happen a while ago?" asked Russ.

  "They's figurin' she's gonna happen again," explained Balloon hastily. He stood silent for a few seconds, and then tried to change the subject. "What y'all think 'bout them tacos we had? I told y'all we's gonna git us some Taco Villa!"

  Victory ignored Balloon's reference to the food. "So I still want to know why Pedro keeps calling you 'Lord Protector.' What's that supposed to mean?"

  "She's all the same deal. That fella from back yonder said some fella jist like him was gonna come 'n git ridda that there splodin' head stuff fer good, and they's called him 'Lord Protector.' I's guessin' they's thinkin' I's lookin' like him 'er somethin'."

  "So Pedro thinks you're this Lord Protector?" asked Russ.

  "He ain't thinkin' that. He jist callin' me that to be nice 'n spectful. Ain't no big deal. We ain't gots to worry 'bout none a that stuff nohow."

  Tom sat down on a bench near the other travelers, stretching his arms toward the domed ceiling. "Well, isn't that nice?" he said. "We've got our own Lord Protector right here with us. All that video gaming may have paid off, Balloon. But we've got more pressing matters to address, such as this: do you have the materials necessary to construct a few universal translators?" Tom's words came sharp; he had deliberately prepared the question.

  Balloon sat down next to him and yawned. "I gots everthangs we need," he responded, somewhat absentmindedly.

  "Told you," said Russ, pointing to Tom. "If we need it, Balloon's got it."

  "That's actually a good idea, Starley," said Victory, folding her arms and sitting down on her own bench.

  "Of course it is, Victoria. I've got you, Balloon, and Russell to look out fo
r these days. If we're going to save your sickly father, communication is imperative." Tom kept a straight face as he spoke.

  Victory looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I'm having a hard time believing you on that one. But a good idea nonetheless."

  Tom grinned. "Well, I'll take the compliment. Balloon, how long will it take to put the translators together?"

  Balloon still seemed preoccupied. "Ain't long," he answered, his eyes gazing off into nothing, "take me 'bout three days is all."

  A look of disappointment came over Tom's face. "Three days? I was hoping it would take three hours."

  Balloon suddenly became irritated. "If'n y'all don't like it y'all can put together yer own transmaker y'alls self!"

  Tom looked at Russ, bewildered. "Dude," he said, trying to diffuse Balloon's anger, "I wasn't complaining. Are you okay, man?"

  "I ain't got nothin' left today. I gots to git to sleep." Balloon stood up and slowly waddled toward the exit of the gathering room.

  "Good idea," said Russ, watching Balloon leave the room. "Do you need anything?" he asked, aware something was wrong.

  "I don't need nothin'," said Balloon, rounding the corner and going out of site.

  "Alrighty then," commented Tom. "He doesn't seem to be his usual chipper self tonight."

  "Something's definitely got him down," replied Russ. He then turned to Victory. "Did you do anything to him?"

  "Of course I didn't," came her response. "He's just tired and ornery, sick of you two most likely."

  "I think that's unlikely," said Tom. "He usually only gets like this when you've been dashing his heart in two. Your wicked charms are enough to destroy any man, Victoria."

  She rolled her eyes and stood up to leave. "For once I'm with Balloon; I can't handle you two anymore."

  "Until tomorrow, my love," replied Tom as she walked out of the gathering room. Victory flicked her bright orange hair and was gone.

  "Strange to see Balloon get all riled up like that," said Russ.

  "Something happened with Victory. She either said something or didn't say something or blah blah blah."

  "I'm not sure. He usually takes that kind of stuff in stride, or doesn't realize she's hating on him."

  "Look on the bright side, Russell, he can make the universal translator."

  "You moron."