Chapter 32: Hitting the Fan
Great Doings were about to come out of NoWhere!
Bertram, High Priest of Salk and Mellow Dude (M.D.), decided it'd be a good idea to waltz over to Eed Land and introduce teenagers to the wonders of little pills. Besides, that seemed to be the happ'nin' place to be at the moment. He was warned by Salk in a vision, however, to stay clear of that d--- vacuum. This took Bertram's mind off his failure, so far, with those bagpipes. Bertram wondered what a Vacuum was, and how he might avoid It.
AGAR AGAR, god of plague, pestilence, disease, dentistry, and redundancy was not pleased with Salk and his pills (except for the ones that prevented halitosis). So AGAR AGAR said (twice), "Let there be pestilence and disease in Salk Land, on the links and hockey rinks. Let the disease be such that everyone's throats swell up so much that they can't take pills." And the grass on the links withered, and the golfers and the hockey players collapsed, and the med students got a note from Donnar Eed saying that they couldn't go to class today for they weren't feeling well.
Somewhere Else entirely, Havoc called: "Gather round, all Ye Sons of the Crow. . ."
"The Creator rests, while I, Havoc, am raised throughout the land. My Uncle Ludvig and his trusty Dark Lemmings await their moment of glory, when they may restore the Good Old Days. The Anti-Crow Donnar Eed seeks to destroy chaos and quantum indeterminacy, but in vain. The Copy Protection scheme cannot be found, nor can Launch Codes, of which foolish young Lemmings (fyLs) know naught."
Havoc did smite the fyLs most grievously, and they did fly across the sky of Nowhere, screaming "WHEEE!"
"The time for Launch Codes has not yet come. For when the nuclear weapons achieve their destiny, it shall be the end of all creation, yea, even the Great Pterodactyl shall be usurped, and all of his letters shall be silent. The sign for this shall be the hatching of the eggs."
"Soon, my brethren and sisteren. Less than tenscore and seven hours remain. In that time shall all things come to naught. The teenagers shall graduate or drop-out, the lemmings shall reach their lowest possible energy state, from which no further falling shall be possible, pizza delivery will be abolished, and AGAR shall have only one name."
"Hear Ye, and know that my words are subject to change without notice and your mileage may vary."
(Professional prophet under uncontrolled conditions. Do not try this at home.)
"Nuclear Weapons!! Great!!" Exclaimed Donnar Eed as she initiated nuclear bomb drills in the schools and counseled many a teen over the fear of total annihilation.
AGAR AGAR considered the nuclear bombs and said, "What good are they unless they proliferate?" Then there were millions of nuclear bombs, everyone had one, but still no Codes to detonate them.
Meanwhile, a Few of the Lemmings were trying to persuade the foolish young Lemming to take a Nap, so that they could try to take the Code frub his Doze.
Bertram, MD, saw what he and his fellow dudes had wrought in D.E. Land and perceived that it was cool. He knew Salk would find it, like, whoa. Then, he had an Idea.
Bertram climbed atop a convenient pedestal, motioned the other dudes to gather around, cleared his throat, asked an underling for a red, swallowed it, refocussed on the forming crowd, slicked back his hair, kissed the Soap onna Rope for good luck, cleared his throat again, raised his right index finger, and spoke.
"You know...," he philosophized. Then he paused for effect. His followers knew the effect of the red would likely last for quite some time.
And Salk looked upon his once-beautiful-now-withered greens and frowned quite a lot. He pouted a bit and kicked the sun, whereupon lots of little suns sprinkled out and landed all about the sky, which Salk promptly named stars, and ordered his priests to spend lots of time studying them and uttering holy phrases like, "Far out."
And lo, Salk reached out his hand and took a sample from one of the stars and placed it in his Petri Dish of Pretty Neat Things, and allowed it to grow into a mold, with which he reseeded his land.
And he called the new grass, Astroturf. And it was really strong and quite unwitherable and easy to care for, and the greenskeepers rejoiced and drank much beer.
And a Few of the Lemmings examined the Astroturf. And they discovered that the Astroturf was unpleasant to Land on. And they wandered around looking for someone to whom they could deliver a Complaint.
The Creator yawned and settled back for His nap. Things had quieted down nicely...
.. and Bertram awoke from his Own little catnap and found he was in front of a Multitude who were, in fact, awaiting His Words..
"Serving Salk is my life, and to help with My Meditations, I have found the Mystic Bagpipes which I had around here.. No, I guess I left them in my cell. Zabba, could you be a Dear and go fetch Them for me? Thanks a bundle. Where was I? Oh yeah. While I was in my --errr..-- Mystic Trance a moment ago, I noted the far off vibes of Forces. Yea, Forces of severe non-mellowness! Once Zabba returns with my Instrument, we will be able to discern just what to do about these Forces."
Halfway around the Huge World, Ludvig's ears burned. It was not just because Bertram was talking about him; Ludvig had been rubbing his head on one of the Nukes in the hopes of knowing its secrets.
"Aww.. This is ridiculous! Anyway, everybody's got one or two of these suckers now, so how can they help us prevail? I say the main source of our troubles is that she-devil Pterri! Let's go give her a piece of our minds!" And they set to working on "Pterri Go Home!" signs.
Meanwhile, in Eed land, the latest dance tune was the saga of their neighbors' troubles with the new astroturf. It was entitled "Skidmarks On My Lemming"..
(And the Universe held its breath, waiting for the hidden flaw in the Vacuum to manifest itself..)