Bizarre Bazaar
"So what do you think of Christmas, John Parker?" asked Buckaroo.
"Is OK. What is it about?"
"It's about peace and goodwill to everyone, and gathering together with friends."
"Sounds good. But why only once a year?"
"That's a very good question." Buckaroo sighed. They were chatting together at a bazaar held by Scooter Lindley's school.
"Have you tried the punch yet, John Parker?"
"Yes I have been punched before. It hurt."
"Not punched like hit, punch like a drink. It's mostly fruit juices. Try some!"
"Hmm. Needs something extra." John Parker took a small flask out of one of his pockets and tipped some of the contents into his glass. He sipped the punch again and nodded his head.
"Mmm, better."
"What is that stuff?" asked Buckaroo, curious as ever.
"Is Val-kreet. Is like your Coca-Cola."
"I'll have to try some later. Right now I want to find Perfect Tommy. He's got a prize for the raffle."
John Parker put down his drink and said, "Isn't that what you shoot with?"
"No, that's a rifle. Come on, let's mingle."
Father Christmas sat huddled in the corner of the hall by the stage, for the moment not surrounded by kids and their expensive requests. Pinky sidled over and said, "What's in the big brown bag, Santa? Laundry?"
"You'd better be a good boy, Pinky, or you're not getting anything from me this year."
"Take it easy, Rawhide."
"Take it easy! Have you got any idea how hot it is inside this costume? Reno had it easy in that yak skin, I can tell you. At least he didn't have to worry about putting up a front for kids at the same time. I'm dehydrated!"
"Lighten up! I'll get you a drink."
"Make it a big one - and get me a straw. I don't wanna get this fake beard wet."
"OK, OK - do you want a cocktail umbrella and a little lemon twist as well?"
Pinky ran off laughing, and Rawhide cursed quietly. People seemed to have developed some strange ideas about him lately, and he was getting worried.
Meanwhile, over at the second-hand clothes stall, Perfect Tommy was rummaging around looking for bargains. He'd been doing this for nearly an hour, and Reno had had enough.
"I thought you only wore designer label, Tommy."
"Style isn't what you wear, but how you wear it," Tommy declared. "For example, take this belt.."
"Take it, please, anybody!" Reno muttered under his breath.
"Now, on most people this would look stupid, but on me it looks..."
"Very stupid." finished Reno.
"You're just saying that because you want it. You're the only person I've ever met who wears two belts at once. What's the matter, bud - you afraid your trousers are gonna fall down in a public place?"
"No - it's to hold in my gut while my corset's at the cleaners" Reno said sarcastically.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't know that." said Tommy.
Reno shook his head in disbelief.
"What about this hat?" asked Tommy, putting a battered old fedora on his head. "I'd buy that for a dollar."
"You would, Tommy, you would. Man, you've got worse taste than a Lectroid."
"Come on, there must be something nice you can say about this hat."
"Well, at least it doesn't have artificial fruit on it."
"What about this then?" Tommy persevered, picking up a blue and grey checked shirt and holding it up to his chin. "Is this neat or what?"
"I'd say it falls into the 'or what' category," said New Jersey, who was passing by. "You buy any more clothes, Tommy, and we'll have to build an extension onto the bunkhouse just for your wardrobe." He grinned and then headed over to the refreshment stand. He wanted some 7-Up, but couldn't find a clean glass, so instead he took a glass of punch that had already been poured out. He grimaced after one gulp. "Man, that's strange," he said to himself.
Just then Pinky came over. "How's the punch?"
"Gross. You're probably better off with a Coke."
"I need something stronger than that anyway. It's for Santa."
"I think the strong stuff's at the back where the kids can't get at it." As Pinky wriggled under the table and started poking around the crates, New Jersey added, "So how's Rawhide doing?"
"As well as can be expected," said Pinky, re-emerging with a beer in each hand. "You want one?"
"No thanks - I'm still recovering from that punch. Hey, if Rawhide's so uncomfortable, why did he volunteer to be Santa? I would have offered, but I was in New York doing some brain surgery while you guys were organising this."
"It wasn't really a question of volunteering - more like not being able to find a good excuse. Buckaroo's too well known by the kids. Reno wouldn't 'cause he said if he was sitting in a corner all day he wouldn't be able to chronicle events. Tommy said it would ruin his image. The professor volunteered, but how many kids are gonna believe Santa's Japanese?"
"How many kids are going to believe he exists at all?" New Jersey pointed out.
"Yeah," Pinky agreed. "Sad, isn't it? Anyway, in the end Rawhide agreed to do it. He's a really nice, sweet guy."
"So are you - you could have offered."
"Sure I could have. But I worked as a Santa in a department store one Christmas. Never again. Kids - when they're good they're very good, but when they're bad they're a living hell!" Pinky headed back towards Rawhide and called over his shoulder, "See ya later!"
When Buckaroo and John Parker found Perfect Tommy and Reno, they were still at the clothes stall. Tommy was now trying on ties. He saw Buckaroo approaching and said, "You're the expert on ties - what do you think?"
"It's perfect," said Buckaroo with a smile.
"See, I told you," said Tommy, elbowing Reno in the ribs.
"Tommy, can you get that special prize for me now?" asked Buckaroo.
"Sure." Tommy tossed the tie to Reno and said, "Do me a favour, pay for this." He rushed off out of the hall.
Reno looked at the spotty bow-tie with distaste, then sighed. "Oh well, it's in a good cause, I guess." He paid the lady behind the stall and shoved the tie into a pocket.
Buckaroo had caught sight of Penny and Mrs Johnson across the hall. "Hey girls," he called out. "Where are you going?"
"Christmas shopping!" yelled Penny. She pulled Mrs Johnson into the crowd and whispered, "Come on. I don't want Buckaroo to see what I'm getting him."
"And what exactly are you getting him?" asked Mrs Johnson.
"To be honest, I don't know yet. He's been dropping hints about a book of German poetry, but it's been out of print for about thirty years. I've tried every second-hand book shop in New Jersey, and I'm starting to think that a bazaar like this may be my last hope. What are you looking for?"
"Christmas crackers. I hate those ones with tacky plastic novelties. You can usually find something nicer in a place like this. I think I saw some round here earlier - look, there's the stall. How many shall I get?"
"If I were you, I'd just buy one first and see if they work. I bought two dozen once, and not one of them went bang."
"OK." Mrs Johnson paid for a cracker and held one end out towards Penny. "Ready, steady, PULL!" There was a satisfyingly loud bang and bits flew out onto the floor. The two girls picked them up before they got trodden on.
"I've got a pink paper hat and a joke, " said Penny. "How about you?"
"I've got a motto and a necklace with a weird looking pendant."
"I think it's a whistle."
"Oh. That's a relief," said Mrs Johnson. "What's your joke?"
"Why didn't the chicken cross the road?"
"Why didn't the chicken cross the road? No idea."
"Because it was chicken!"
"God, that's awful, " Mrs Johnson groaned.
"I eggs-pecked the chicken thought so too," punned Penny.
"That's even worse!!"
"All right, I'll stop. What's your motto?"
"I haven't unfolded it yet, let me see... "Beware of giant purple monsters with huge fangs." Weird."
"Sounds like it came from a fortune cookie."
"Or the Twilight Zone," added Mrs Johnson.
"I suppose it's practical advice."
"I certainly wouldn't argue with it. I'll buy some more."
By now New Jersey was feeling distinctly queasy. It seemed to him that the walls were swaying from side to side, and that some of the tables were sprouting wings. He blinked and sat down, not wanting to look at the chair in case it was turning into something really nasty. A large parcel floated by, wrapped in shiny paper with a red bow on top.
"Hi there," it said.
"Hello," New Jersey ventured dubiously. "Who are you?"
"I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present. Nice to see you."
New Jersey wondered if he should offer to shake hands, but the present didn't seem to have any at the moment. It spoke again.
"Look, here comes a friend of mine."
A large bowl of spaghetti bolognese drifted towards them, a huge sprig of holly perched on its sauce.
"Howdy folks! I'm the Ghost of Christmas Pasts. Wanna go see a movie?"
The parcel nodded, which was quite an achievement since it didn't have a head to nod with. The two apparitions floated up to the ceiling and disappeared.
"Oh wow," said New Jersey. It seemed appropriate.
Tommy re-entered the hall struggling under the weight of a big wooden box. He saw Pinky and yelled, "Hey bud, can you give me a hand?"
"Left or right?"
"Cut the wisecracks, Pinky, before I get a hernia."
"Relax, I've got it." Pinky grabbed one end of the box. "Man, it's heavy! What have you got in here, your old rock collection?"
"No, it's a scale model of the Jet Car. Buckaroo said I could donate it as a prize for the raffle."
"Did you have to make it on such a large scale?"
"If I'd made it any smaller I couldn't have fitted the engine in."
"Engine?" Pinky exclaimed. "You mean this thing actually works?"
"Sure does. It's a remote control exact replica of the Jet Car. Some kid is gonna love this."
"Hardly surprising, since a big kid built it."
"Just shut up," Tommy advised, "and look out for the steps."
"What st- Oww!"
"I warned you," Tommy said smugly.
"I knew I should have made you the one who walks backwards," Pinky muttered as he backed up the steps and onto the stage. They unpacked the Jet Car and put it on the table with the other raffle prizes.
"That model's not really heavy," commented Pinky. "I think the box weighs more than the contents."
"Like chocolates."
"Seriously, why did you use such a heavy box?"
"That's a pretty delicate piece of engineering. I just didn't want it to get damaged."
"Weren't you worried about damaging yourself trying to lift it?"
"Me? I'm perfect!"
"So that makes you indestructible, does it?"
"Nah - makes me thirsty!" Tommy said, jumping down the steps and heading for the refreshment stand.
Pinky limped after him. "Wait for me!"
"What are you moaning for? All the combat action we've seen, and you start making all this fuss over a bruised heel?"
"Hey, it's the little things that mean the most, you know."
The pair finally reached the refreshment stand, detouring around a morose New Jersey to reach the drinks.
The cowboy had been feeling stranger with each passing second. As soon as he saw Tommy and Pinky walk by, he jumped up.
"You gotta help me. I think I'm turning into a fly!"
New Jersey grabbed hold of Tommy's arm, but Tommy shook him off and backed away nervously. Pinky gently put his arm around New Jersey's shoulders.
"What's wrong, pal?"
"My skin's splitting! And my ears are falling off!" New Jersey gibbered.
"Don't worry, we'll glue them back on again. Come on, I'll take you to Buckaroo."
"Just don't let the pods get me!" New Jersey whimpered, as Pinky led him away.
Tommy watched them go, then felt someone tug at his sleeve. It was Scooter.
"Hey, Tommy, can I have a go of that Jet Car?"
"No. It's for whoever wins it in the raffle."
"Aw, go on, please?" Scooter persisted.
Tommy looked at him and then smiled.
"Well, I suppose I ought to test it. Just a short go, mind you. And we'd better draw the stage curtain, so no one sees us playing with it, or I'll never hear the end of it."
"All right!"
By now Pinky had found Buckaroo, who was introducing John Parker to the joys of hot Christmas pudding.
"Hi, you two," said Buckaroo. "What's up?"
New Jersey cupped his hands around Buckaroo's ear and whispered, "You gotta keep an eye on those little old ladies over there - they're Martians!!"
"He's what's up," said Pinky.
"Higher than a kite by the sound of it. What's he been eating - Mrs Johnson's Toklas brownies?"
"I've no idea. He was moaning about the punch earlier though."
"Oops."
Buckaroo and Pinky looked at John Parker, from whose direction the 'Oops' had come. His fingers were shaking nervously, and he had dropped his pudding.
"Oops?" enquired Buckaroo.
"I never finished my drink," John Parker said slowly.
"So you think he's drunk your Val-kreet?"
"His what?" asked Pinky.
"To a Lectroid, it's like Coca-Cola, but god only knows what it does to humans. Any ideas, John Parker?"
"None at all. Hardly any in the glass, though."
"How do you feel, New Jersey?" asked Buckaroo.
"Oh, I'll be fine," he replied weakly. "Just as long as you keep those monsters away from me."
"What monsters?"
"The purple ones hiding behind the Christmas tree."
"All right, I'll deal with them." Buckaroo turned to Pinky and said, "I think we'd just better keep him somewhere quiet until that stuff wears off."
"Aren't you gonna deal with the monsters first?" Pinky asked.
"What monsters?" Buckaroo asked impatiently.
"The purple ones hiding behind the Christmas tree."
"Look, this is no time for jokes, Pinky. Our friend here has a serious problem."
"So do we. I'm not kidding. Look!" Pinky pointed to the Christmas tree and, sure enough, there were monsters there. A whole bunch of monsters. Angry, scaly, purple monsters with big ears, big claws, and even bigger teeth.
Tommy stuck his head around the side of the stage curtain and yelled.
"Rawhide, I gotta problem!"
"What else is new?"
"There's a - Argh!!!" Tommy was pulled back behind the curtain by a scaly purple claw.
"Hang on in there, Tommy, I'm coming!" Rawhide jumped up, threw his sack aside, and pulled out a gun.
A little girl waiting to talk to him screamed.
"Mommie! Santa's got a gun!"
"Yeah, so you'd better be good for goodness sake!" Rawhide shot up the stairs and onto the stage, where he found Tommy trying to defend himself with a microphone stand. Rawhide yelled to get the creature's attention, then fired straight at its head. Instead of dropping dead, it grunted in surprise, and then lurched off the stage and into the main hall.
"Scooter!" called Tommy anxiously. "Where are you?"
"Over here." The boy emerged from behind a pile of amps "I'm OK."
"What in Hades is going on here, Tommy?"
"Well, me and Scooter here were just testing my model Jet Car, and we sort of accidentally opened a window into the Eight Dimension..."
"And that purple thing climbed through the window?"
Tommy looked sheepish. "Those purple things, actually."
"You mean there's more of them? God, Tommy, sometimes I wonder whose side you're on. Are you telling me you even fitted that thing with a miniature Oscillation Overthruster?"
"I only wanted it to be perfect. You're not gonna hold that against me, are you?"
By now screams and shouts were coming from the main hall, along with the sound of people stampeding for the door.
"We'd better go give them a hand, Tommy. You got a gun?"
"No, I didn't think I'd need one at a school fete. I've got a knife."
"A knife? What good is that gonna be against a creature that big?"
"Well I hate to have to be the one to tell you, but it didn't seem too bothered by your bullets!!"
As Buckaroo had already discovered, this was indeed the case. It was hard to aim at the creatures without risking hitting the people fleeing from the bazaar, and even when he did get a clear shot the bullets just bounced off their thick purple hide. Buckaroo didn't really want to kill a species he'd never seen before, but he didn't want to stand around watching his friends getting eaten either. He ducked under a nearby table where John Parker was trying to calm a nearly hysterical New Jersey. The cowboy immediately asked, "Are they gone yet?"
"'Fraid not," gasped Buckaroo. "I don't know what those creatures are, but they're harder to get rid of than insurance salesmen!"
"I know what they are," ventured John Parker. "They are called gredultkek. When they're fully grown we use them like your guard dogs."
"Biggest puppies I ever saw. How do you stop them?"
"Hey, I'm a diplomat!"
"You mean you failed vet school as well?" Buckaroo glanced over at the door, where Reno was trying to hurry people out of the building. Pinky had gone to help him. At least once the place was evacuated they'd only have to worry about hitting the aliens. A thought struck Buckaroo.
"John Parker, if you use those things as guard dogs on Planet 10, what are they doing here? You smuggle them through customs or something?"
"Maybe John Whorfin's troops had some."
"There was nothing like that at Yoyodyne - we went right through the place."
"In the Eighth Dimension?"
"Could be, though it still doesn't explain what they're doing here."
Over on the other side of the hall, Penny and Mrs Johnson had run into trouble, in the form of a gredultkek.
"You want the good news or the bad news?" asked Mrs Johnson.
"Give me the good news. I could do with a laugh."
"The good news is that the creature is too busy sticking its snout into the lucky dip to be interested in us right now."
"So what's the bad news?"
"The bad news is that it's between us and the door."
"Suppose we make a run for it?" suggested Penny.
"Suppose it turns its head round just as we run past?"
"Haven't you got a gun or something?"
Mrs Johnson checked her pockets. "Damn! Left it in my other jacket. All I've got is some change, a bag of crackers and a whistle. Hardly death or glory material."
"Hang on a minute - suppose we blow the whistle to create a diversion?"
"Great idea, apart from the fact that whoever's blowing the whistle is then going to be the centre of attention."
"Oh. No, wait, I've got it!" Penny frantically felt around the inside of her handbag and pulled out a small metal canister. "Attack alarm."
"Great!"
Penny turned the alarm on and flung it towards the Christmas tree where most of the gredultkek were busy nibbling tinsel. As the alarm rang out, they all turned to look at it. Mrs Johnson and Penny raced for the door and ran into Reno and Pinky. The four of them joined Buckaroo by the cake and sweet stall.
"Everyone OK?" Buckaroo shouted over the high pitched din of the alarm. "Where's Rawhide, and Tommy?"
"Tommy was up on the stage last I saw. I haven't seen Rawhide" said Reno.
"Rawhide knows how to take care of himself," said Pinky, "but where's New Jersey? He must have wandered off while I was at the door."
Penny spotted him. "There, by the book stand!"
The alarm, which had just been swallowed by a gredultkek, stopped abruptly, so everyone was able to hear New Jersey say, "Aunt Mildred! What a nice surprise seeing you here. How are you?" He stuck out his hand towards one of the creatures, which was currently munching its way through a tatty leather bound copy of the complete works of Shakespeare. It belched loudly, then turned to look at New Jersey.
"Geronimo!" Suddenly there was a flurry of movement from the ceiling as Rawhide (still dressed as Father Christmas) swung across on a rope, kicked the monster in the chest, and sent it flying straight into a pile of scarves and hankies. He grabbed New Jersey and dragged him back to the rest of the Cavaliers.
"There," Rawhide announced, "that's my good deed for the day. Someone else can figure out how to get rid of those ugly critters. I'm just gonna get rid of this Santa suit!" He started unbuckling his red and white jacket, and added, "Buckaroo, you might be interested to know that these things came from the Eighth Dimension, courtesy of Tommy's model car."
"Somebody's probably called the cops by now." Reno pointed out. "A bit of heavy duty artillery should soon clear them up."
"Killing them seems a bit excessive, when we could open the window again and send them back where they came from," mused Buckaroo.
"This what you're looking for, Buckaroo?" Scooter had snuck up behind them, with the Jet Car in his arms and a grin on his face.
"How did you get past those creatures?" Buckaroo asked.
"I just went out the back door, walked around the outside of the building, and then came back in the front door. No problem," Scooter said airily.
"Right then. Take me back the way you came," decided Buckaroo. "And I think I'd better carry the Jet Car before you pull a muscle." As he took hold of it he said to the others, "This could take a while, so try to keep them away from the stage. And don't let New Jersey go looking for more of his relatives!" Having said this, Buckaroo followed Scooter out of the door, moving as stealthily as possible for someone carrying a huge model car.
Reno sniffed. "Giant purple bullet-proof aliens, and he tells us to keep them away from the stage. What are we supposed to do - recite poetry at them?"
Pinky grinned and said, "You could try reading them some of your poetry - then it would be a mercy killing."
Up on the stage, Tommy was frantically cannibalising a stereo to repair the remote control unit when Buckaroo turned up.
"God, I'm sorry, Buckaroo. I'm trying to fix it."
"I should hope so. Ancient Japanese proverb say, "He who cocks up, clears up"."
"You're kidding."
"Yes, I am. What's your idea?"
Tommy calmed down a bit. "I'm trying to arrange for this car's next trip to be one way. You see, last time it went into the Eighth Dimension OK, but when it came out, those things got dragged along. So I figure if we can get those things - -"
"They're called gredultkek," Buckaroo told him.
"Gredultkek? Man, the name's almost as ugly as they are. Anyway, if they're all in one place, I can drive the car right between them on remote, and send it, and them, into the Eighth Dimension, hopefully never to return. What do you think?" He looked up at Buckaroo for approval.
"Works for me. How do you plan on getting them up here?"
"Hadn't figured that part out yet actually. I thought of sticking my head though the gap in the curtains and shouting stuff like, "Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of elderberries!" but I don't know if they'd get it."
"I imagine it would probably lose something in translation. They do seem to be attracted to loud noises though. If any of this PA system is still in one piece we could put a tape on and turn it up loud." Buckaroo looked through the tapes scattered on the floor by the speakers. "How about some Barry Manilow?"
"Get real! We want to bring them up here, not send them screaming into the streets."
"I'm kidding you again. This is just what we need." Buckaroo picked a tape and slotted it into the stereo. "You finished with that control unit?"
"Sure thing, bud."
Buckaroo placed the Jet Car at one end of the stage. "Right, let's get out of here. Scooter's in the alley out back, keeping a watch for aliens. We can work the car from there." He turned the stereo on full blast, and they both hotfooted it off the stage and out the back door.
"What's that noise?" John Parker put his hands over his ears, not having had much experience of twentieth century Earth music.
"Great! Purple Haze!" shouted Mrs Johnson. "I love this!"
Evidently the gredultkek did too, for one by one they stopped what they were doing and headed for the stage, grunting and snorting amongst themselves as they did so. As soon as they were all on the stage there was a flash of blue white light and the grunting noises ceased - except for New Jersey, who now thought he was a pig.
The music stopped and Buckaroo, Tommy and Scooter walked out in front of the curtain. "Well, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" asked Buckaroo, stepping cautiously over the debris as they walked down the hall to join the rest of the Cavaliers.
"The place is a mess tough," said Penny.
"And I bet this is one bazaar that doesn't make much money," said Reno.
"Are you kidding? This place has been invaded by aliens! It'll become a tourist attraction and they'll make a fortune!" Pinky said.
"Can we stop worrying about this place and get back home so I can change out of these blasted furry boots?" asked Rawhide. "My peace and goodwill are starting to wear a little thin."
They all headed back to the bus. As they climbed on board, Buckaroo put his arm around Penny and said, "Look what I've got for you." He handed her a sprig of mistletoe. "Of course, the druids loved this stuff. Believed it had all sorts of medicinal uses.."
Great, thought Penny. The most gorgeous guy in the world gives me mistletoe, and then he gets technical about it.
"..but what I was really interested in was doing some research into its more romantic aspects. How would you like to be my assistant?"
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