Uncle Zwizzler's Circus Galaxica:
The Greatest Show In The Galaxy
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SPECK:
THE GOLDEN PYLONS Speck came up to it then stopped, remaining motionless, breathless, staring at it in wonder. The skin on his arms and legs rippled with gooseflesh. It was solid confirmation that the Circus Galaxica was here. Every year, the morning after the circus arrived, people in Greenton always awoke to the mysterious golden pylons sitting on every corner along Main Street, shining in the sun like the crowns of a giant king. No one had ever witnessed them being placed into position by Uncle Zwizzler or one of his people during the night, they seemed to appear out of the ether as if by magic, which made them even more mysterious and special. They resembled thin golden pyramids, the height of a man, and had a small, bulbous red projector lens on one side, like a swollen eye. There was a motion detector inside the lens and any sort of movement would set the pylon’s short, holographic spiel off. Even better, below the red lens was a thin lipless mouth and out from this rather unassuming slit spewed the stuff that dreams were made of. “Hey stranger, did you play it yet?” came a voice from behind him. When Speck turned around he saw Tina VanBeckfeld standing there in dirty blue jean overalls and a pink t-shirt. Her blond hair was twisted tight on her left and right sides in short frizzy pigtails. Her mule teeth were trapped behind the gleaming wire cages of dental braces, two lines of prisoners doing their time inside a mouth much too big for her face. |
Only a few months older than he was, she was tougher, taller and much smarter than he was. She climbed trees better than any boy in town and refused to wear shoes so that the dirty bottoms of her feet were so rough and calloused they resembled the old, wrinkled skin of an orange. He suspected she could walk on a mile of broken glass without feeling it. She was a bag full of squirming slime worms, a noisy talking-machine that never shut up, a finger-toed monstrosity forever taunting him – and more.
“No,” he groaned at her then turned his attention back to the gleaming pylon. “I’ve just now arrived.”
Tina stood next to him and sneered. Heck, even her sneers were noisy. “Casey Turner was the first person to play one,” she said snarkily. “He was up at first light and looked out his front window. They put a pylon right in front of his house.”
Casey Turner? Casey Turner! He was a sixteen year-old throbbing bag of hormones and pimples who had his own hover car and always smelled like shoe polish. No one except Tina seemed to like him.
“But he doesn’t even live on a corner!” Speck shouted, trying to hold his disappointment in, yet failing miserably. It had always been one of his dreams to be the first person to activate a golden pylon and get the prize for doing so.
“I know,” Tina retorted. “But it’s the truth, so he got this year’s golden ticket…free admission for him and his family into the circus tomorrow night.”
Speck wanted to kick the pylon then he wanted to do the same to Tina. This was a betrayal of mountainous proportions. Why Casey Turner? Didn’t Uncle Zwizzler know how much of a loser he was? A prize like that was wasted on someone like him! Speck, after a long painful moment, gathered himself then faced Tina. “Did you play one already?”
Her face screwed up into a smile that would have made a Jack-O-Lantern jealous, then she nodded. “You bet. About an hour ago. It’s pretty much the same as last year. Are you gonna do it or not?”
“Yes, I’m gonna do it,” Speck said impatiently. He stood there, gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and wished she would burst into a pillar of flame. His mind searched the sky above for a meteorite to pull down, drop it square on her empty head. He’d wanted so desperately to make this moment special, something that, when times were bad, would cheer him up when he thought about it. He’d wanted to be alone and relish in the excitement of its message, but this beast of a tomboy had ruined it for him with her presence, her news about Casey Turner and the spoiler about the message. So, defeated and depressed, he threw a lazy wave in front of the motion detector. The red lens flashed white then a three-dimensional image of the famous Uncle Zwizzler appeared in front of them, life sized, animated and as real as a hologram could be.
The way Speck’s mind made sense of it, Uncle Zwizzler resembled a giant yellow and orange caterpillar wearing a top hat made of some kind of magical black material that showed animated comets and stars shooting by. His wide necktie was made of the same stuff. The old alien’s eyes were huge white globes of milk with coal black pupils and were bordered by the wrinkled folds of a pair of orange eyelids that closed vertically, like the doors of an ancient elevator. Above his eyes ran an overgrown, fuzzy gray unibrow, the outer ends of which rose up into the air like a hoverbike’s handlebars on fire. Between his eyes was a wide bulging nose that fell effortlessly into a thin mouth where a long black holder held a lit cigarette. Four thin, bony yellow arms sprouted from a naked pear shaped, vertical torso, two on each side. At the end of each arm was a three clawed hand edged with a wrist-cuff made of that starry material. His lower body splayed out behind him like a section of giant centipede legs, three on each side and ended with a flapping, pointed orange tail rimmed with soft gray tufts of hair. When he spoke his four arms flailed about as if swatting flies and his voice sounded like a man who’d been smoking cigars a thousand years in a coal mine.
“Hello boys and girls, moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas,” the alien said with much vigor, in Galactic Standard, of course. Speck watched with eyes the size of boulders. “It’s your old friend Uncle Zwizzler telling you that the Circus Galaxica, the Greatest Show in the Galaxy, has returned once again to your town for a limited engagement of two nights only. Yes, we have your old favorites plus some new surprises so be sure to see the parade tonight at dusk, spanning the entire length of Main Street, Greenton. There’ll be fun, music and candy for all! And remember, all of us here in Uncle Zwizzler’s Circus Galaxica bring the galaxy – TO YOU!”
With that, Uncle Zwizzler saluted with all four hands then disappeared.
It was as if Uncle Zwizzler was speaking only to him. Even though young Speck had never met Uncle Zwizzler the recording made him feel as if he’d seen an old best friend who’d been gone for a long, long time. A warm feeling of comfort and familiarity tingled his limbs. Speck couldn’t have been more excited and debated with himself on whether to watch the hologram again. Miraculously, Tomboy Tina hadn’t ruined everything for him after all.
“So, you gonna be here tonight?” Tina asked. “Sounds like there’s gonna be a lot of candy coming our way. I hope they have those atomic bananaberry flavored jelly jaw breakers again, I ate those for a week straight last year, even lost an incisor in one of them – had to have the orthodontist screw it back in. Gadplooey! My mom wasn’t happy at all!”
If only he could’ve screwed your entire mouth shut, Speck thought. Then, gleefully ignoring her, he turned down Main Street and headed for the center of town.
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“No,” he groaned at her then turned his attention back to the gleaming pylon. “I’ve just now arrived.”
Tina stood next to him and sneered. Heck, even her sneers were noisy. “Casey Turner was the first person to play one,” she said snarkily. “He was up at first light and looked out his front window. They put a pylon right in front of his house.”
Casey Turner? Casey Turner! He was a sixteen year-old throbbing bag of hormones and pimples who had his own hover car and always smelled like shoe polish. No one except Tina seemed to like him.
“But he doesn’t even live on a corner!” Speck shouted, trying to hold his disappointment in, yet failing miserably. It had always been one of his dreams to be the first person to activate a golden pylon and get the prize for doing so.
“I know,” Tina retorted. “But it’s the truth, so he got this year’s golden ticket…free admission for him and his family into the circus tomorrow night.”
Speck wanted to kick the pylon then he wanted to do the same to Tina. This was a betrayal of mountainous proportions. Why Casey Turner? Didn’t Uncle Zwizzler know how much of a loser he was? A prize like that was wasted on someone like him! Speck, after a long painful moment, gathered himself then faced Tina. “Did you play one already?”
Her face screwed up into a smile that would have made a Jack-O-Lantern jealous, then she nodded. “You bet. About an hour ago. It’s pretty much the same as last year. Are you gonna do it or not?”
“Yes, I’m gonna do it,” Speck said impatiently. He stood there, gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and wished she would burst into a pillar of flame. His mind searched the sky above for a meteorite to pull down, drop it square on her empty head. He’d wanted so desperately to make this moment special, something that, when times were bad, would cheer him up when he thought about it. He’d wanted to be alone and relish in the excitement of its message, but this beast of a tomboy had ruined it for him with her presence, her news about Casey Turner and the spoiler about the message. So, defeated and depressed, he threw a lazy wave in front of the motion detector. The red lens flashed white then a three-dimensional image of the famous Uncle Zwizzler appeared in front of them, life sized, animated and as real as a hologram could be.
The way Speck’s mind made sense of it, Uncle Zwizzler resembled a giant yellow and orange caterpillar wearing a top hat made of some kind of magical black material that showed animated comets and stars shooting by. His wide necktie was made of the same stuff. The old alien’s eyes were huge white globes of milk with coal black pupils and were bordered by the wrinkled folds of a pair of orange eyelids that closed vertically, like the doors of an ancient elevator. Above his eyes ran an overgrown, fuzzy gray unibrow, the outer ends of which rose up into the air like a hoverbike’s handlebars on fire. Between his eyes was a wide bulging nose that fell effortlessly into a thin mouth where a long black holder held a lit cigarette. Four thin, bony yellow arms sprouted from a naked pear shaped, vertical torso, two on each side. At the end of each arm was a three clawed hand edged with a wrist-cuff made of that starry material. His lower body splayed out behind him like a section of giant centipede legs, three on each side and ended with a flapping, pointed orange tail rimmed with soft gray tufts of hair. When he spoke his four arms flailed about as if swatting flies and his voice sounded like a man who’d been smoking cigars a thousand years in a coal mine.
“Hello boys and girls, moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas,” the alien said with much vigor, in Galactic Standard, of course. Speck watched with eyes the size of boulders. “It’s your old friend Uncle Zwizzler telling you that the Circus Galaxica, the Greatest Show in the Galaxy, has returned once again to your town for a limited engagement of two nights only. Yes, we have your old favorites plus some new surprises so be sure to see the parade tonight at dusk, spanning the entire length of Main Street, Greenton. There’ll be fun, music and candy for all! And remember, all of us here in Uncle Zwizzler’s Circus Galaxica bring the galaxy – TO YOU!”
With that, Uncle Zwizzler saluted with all four hands then disappeared.
It was as if Uncle Zwizzler was speaking only to him. Even though young Speck had never met Uncle Zwizzler the recording made him feel as if he’d seen an old best friend who’d been gone for a long, long time. A warm feeling of comfort and familiarity tingled his limbs. Speck couldn’t have been more excited and debated with himself on whether to watch the hologram again. Miraculously, Tomboy Tina hadn’t ruined everything for him after all.
“So, you gonna be here tonight?” Tina asked. “Sounds like there’s gonna be a lot of candy coming our way. I hope they have those atomic bananaberry flavored jelly jaw breakers again, I ate those for a week straight last year, even lost an incisor in one of them – had to have the orthodontist screw it back in. Gadplooey! My mom wasn’t happy at all!”
If only he could’ve screwed your entire mouth shut, Speck thought. Then, gleefully ignoring her, he turned down Main Street and headed for the center of town.
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