SERIALIZATION OF “the Zany Time Travels of Warble McGorkle” – Chapter 8 of 61
Warble Fastidiously Avoids the Use of Profanity, and Hijacks the Arodnap
CHAPTER 8
Warble Fastidiously Avoids the Use of Profanity, and Hijacks the Arodnap
Tilting his head back at a 45° angle, Warble bellows out, loud enough for his employees out front to hear: “Gitcher donkeys back here!”
Warble phrased his demand that way because he always scrupulously avoids the use of coarse language.
Leading the way, Ward Robespierre soon turns the corner, followed by Jacques LaRue, a fifty-something health and fitness nut who is Warble’s PFT (Personal Fitness Trainer); Marianne Trieste-Trench, a young, no-nonsense, take-no-prisoners type who is Warble’s security expert; and Mullah Gitani, a laid back and somewhat roundish (“pleasantly plump”) middle-aged gent who functions as Warble’s resident token Indian Chief, Cook, and Bottle Washer.
Now that everyone is here, Warble yells out for Mary (in a manner exactly like before -- you remember, the Marlon Brando/Fred Flintstone routine).
Waving Comfy and Albert aside, Warble is about to explain the key features of the Arodnap to his employees, but first says: “I hope you remembered to bring your toothbrushes and jammies, because we’re going on a little trip.”
Jacques and Marianne elbow Ward and sarcastically whisper, in unison, “Thanks for telling us, Ward.”
“I didn’t know myself, people,” Ward pleads his innocence.
Mullah sits down on the lawn “Indian-style,” crosses his arms and, with a look of deep contentment on his face, begins meditating and playing air sitar.
Soundtrack note: “Live for Today” by the Grass Roots and/or something by Ravi Shankar, or “Philby” by Rory Gallagher
Warble explains to his employees about the GPS/CPS, but emphasizes that he alone, as the owner of the Arodnap (Comfy perks up at this remark, seeing he apparently has the sale wrapped up) will operate the location and date selection device, controlling where they go and when they arrive.
“After you get the finished version, you mean,” Comfy reminds him. “Remember, this prototype can only go to the Ed Sullivan Show, 1956.”
“Of course,” Warble says, while holding one arm behind his back, fingers crossed (a trick he also used at his Presidential inauguration, some of you may recall).
When Warble begins talking about the MC/D, Mary interrupts him with a question. “Why do you say it that way?” she asks.
“Say what what way?” Warble replies, really knowing what Mary is wondering about but wanting to appear as if his “distinguished” pronunciation is completely natural, and was done subconsciously, automatically.
“You say material ‘Muh-Teary-ELL’,” Mary explains, wrinkling her brows in consternation.
“Oh, that,” Warble says, “It’s the French. As my old friend Eau Zarque the fabled fur trapper always says, any time the French word for something sounds enough like the real word so that you think you know what it means, use it!”
“Why?” Mary asks, thinking that sounds like the most blatantly nonsensical advice she’s ever heard in her life.
“‘Why?’ you so ignorantly ask?!?” Warble says, actually glad to have the opportunity to show off his knowledge of the romantic French lingo. “Sacre bleu, madame! It’s sophisticated! Your apparent IQ will increase by 10 points for every French word you use. Why, if you were to allow four or five French words to drop casually into a conversation, you would be viewed as having an IQ double your certified! Besides, if people think you know French, they’ll assume you understand Proust, Gauguin, and all the other mysteries of life -- they might even conclude that you can communicate with dolphins -- which, buy the whey, are WAY smarter than most humans (although none are more intelligent than I, of course). You would be viewed as being twice as smart as the average human, and four times as smart as your average Congressman.”
“You may be onto something, there, Warble,” Jacques muses aloud. “Or maybe you’re just on something.”
Mary pulls Warble aside for a private conversation. “Warble, tell me again why you hired that guy as your fitness trainer.”
“Mr. LaRue is a huckleberry above a persimmon, Mary.”
“Say again?” Mary requests, still in the dark.
Warble sighs. “Because he’s such a great gymnast, that’s why!”
“What’s so special about his gymnastic abilities? He hasn’t been in the Olympics or anything, has he?”
“No, but who gives a hoot? He ate cereal bars while working out on the parallel bars. He ate one right after another! I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“You mean he ate cereal bars serially while on the parallel bars--a deed that had no parallel?” Mary asks.
“Exact-act-actly!” Warble answers, beaming, thinking he got Jacques at quite the bargain salary (the equivalent of minimum wage, when you add all the compulsory overtime). “And, he once swam from Alcatraz to San Francisco, pulling a tugboat with a rope in his mouth – but, that was nothing, really.”
“Okay, let’s try a dry run,” Warble says, hoping to fool everybody. “Let’s get our assignments worked out and see if the logistics are logical enough for now. I, of course, will sit in the pilot’s seat; Mary, as my soul mate and co-owner of the Arodnap, will take ‘shotgun’ and sit next to me in front. In the middle seat, let’s put, from left to right, LaRue, Trench, and Robespierre (since he’s my right-hand man, he should be at my right, and, appropriately, behind me). Last and least, taking the hindmost, we’ll let Gitani sit in the middle of the back seat, with Comfy and Albert flanking and sandwiching him.”
A little dubious, but wanting to humor the customer, Comfy climbs in, and gestures for Albert to take his spot, too. Once everybody is aboard, Warble turns around, and then two things happen in quick succession: First, Warble feigns amazement, points at the sky behind him and yells, “Jiminy Cricket! Is that who I think it is?!”
The ruse works like gangbusters. Comfy and Albert, who don’t know Warble too well yet, look back. As soon as they do, Warble pulls up the GPS/CPS and enters the time and space coordinates.
Before anybody can do anything about it or even utter a word of discouragement, lodge a complaint, file a grievance, or raise an objection, the unlikely octet are flying high above Wisconsin, looking down on corn fields, soybean patches, and string cheese factories.
Soundtrack note: “Home, Home on the Range” by Gene Autry followed by “Time Machine” by Grand Funk [Railroad]
About that second thing that happened simultaneously with the first, though (Warble’s dirty trick being the first thing, for those of you not concentrating all that intently): As Warble was busy entering the time and space coordinates, Albert’s pet puppy Taterskin, who had been more or less waiting patiently up until then, had bounded into the back seat, and snuggled up to his master.
Comfy had tried to grab the pooch and throw him overboard, as the Arodnap was crowded enough already, and he didn’t want the rambunctious puppy crawling all over his brand new silk suit, but also because the time travel feature had not yet been tested with animals. It is unknown as of yet just what it might do to them, and whether they would even survive it.
Where are they heading, you ask? Warble has entered the following time and space coordinates into the GPS/CPS:
Location: Cooperstown, New York
Date: April 1st, 1992
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Blackbird Crow Raven’s “the Zany Time Travels of Warble McGorkle” is being serialized in this space each Sunday and Thursday; it is also available in its entirety from here.
You can listen to the recording of this excerpt, by the author, here: