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Vex, Vexed
Dec. 13th, 2004 04:42 pmDespite having already experienced the worst day of scientific research in his life, and certainly the worst-case scenario in self-testing his line of anti-aging products made exclusively from Ho-Hos, Delmar Vex agreed to an evening of bar-hopping with his friend Shaedlo. He hoped his friend would be able to consult with him on a) how the hell his name was supposed to be pronounced, b) what to do with three extra eye-stalks, particularly the two that did not project from his scalp, and c) how to set up a system of animal testing that did not result in his getting jackrolled by bunnies and ferrets.
Shaedlo could not provide any assistance with these queries, as he had earlier that day been reduced to a fine red mist by a laser-beam-projecting cat toy pen thing that had inexplicably been overpowered by a factor of roughly one zillion. And though Vex had collected as much mist as he could, changed it to liquid, put it in a nearly-clean jelly jar, and taken it to the bar with him, he could not get it to pick up the tab. Thus, Vex was vexed.
But wait! What was that that Vex's keen eye-stalks perceived entering the bar? It walked like a man, smiled like a crocodile, talked like a rat on nitrous oxide, smelled like a mix of cheap vodka and Tang, and threw money around like Nolan Ryan with a fistful of nickels. Whoever it was, it proceeded to sit down next to Vex and order some incomprehensible form of drink that sounded as if it would inebriate, or at least disinfect, everyone in a twelve mile radius.
The stranger turned to regard Vex. Vex regarded the stranger.
"You know," said the stranger, "a little lemon juice will get those eyestalks right off."
"Oh," Vex answered. "Thanks."
The stranger nodded as his drink was set before him. Ignoring it completely, he picked up Shaedlo, drank him in a single gulp, and slapped the jelly jar back to the table.
"Finally," he said. "Someone made the damn drink right."
The stranger stood, nodded to Vex, and left.
Vex drummed his fingertips on the bar for ten minutes, wondering how he was going to explain this to Shaedlo's research group. Then, not knowing what else to do, he picked up the drink the stranger had bought and departed. If nothing else, he reasoned, the drink could unclog his sink, which was more than Shaedlo had ever been able to do.
Shaedlo could not provide any assistance with these queries, as he had earlier that day been reduced to a fine red mist by a laser-beam-projecting cat toy pen thing that had inexplicably been overpowered by a factor of roughly one zillion. And though Vex had collected as much mist as he could, changed it to liquid, put it in a nearly-clean jelly jar, and taken it to the bar with him, he could not get it to pick up the tab. Thus, Vex was vexed.
But wait! What was that that Vex's keen eye-stalks perceived entering the bar? It walked like a man, smiled like a crocodile, talked like a rat on nitrous oxide, smelled like a mix of cheap vodka and Tang, and threw money around like Nolan Ryan with a fistful of nickels. Whoever it was, it proceeded to sit down next to Vex and order some incomprehensible form of drink that sounded as if it would inebriate, or at least disinfect, everyone in a twelve mile radius.
The stranger turned to regard Vex. Vex regarded the stranger.
"You know," said the stranger, "a little lemon juice will get those eyestalks right off."
"Oh," Vex answered. "Thanks."
The stranger nodded as his drink was set before him. Ignoring it completely, he picked up Shaedlo, drank him in a single gulp, and slapped the jelly jar back to the table.
"Finally," he said. "Someone made the damn drink right."
The stranger stood, nodded to Vex, and left.
Vex drummed his fingertips on the bar for ten minutes, wondering how he was going to explain this to Shaedlo's research group. Then, not knowing what else to do, he picked up the drink the stranger had bought and departed. If nothing else, he reasoned, the drink could unclog his sink, which was more than Shaedlo had ever been able to do.
