Odd World

[freswith]

read the instructions. They said "drinking this vial can lead to sudden death. Known side effects include dizziness and vomiting. Decomposition has been reported in many subjects who suffer death. Beneficial to positronic brains and electronic components; for killing robots you will need the other vial." so he extended his ingestion proboscis and sucked the fluid into his nutrient intake.

Hortense stared at him with huge eyes, then drank the other vial. Hair immediately sprouted from his/her/its bald patch, and continued to spread down his/her/its body until he/she/it was completely covered. "Eeee Bah Gum!" he growled, having somehow acquired a Lancashire accent, "That's a right stiffener, that is. All that money wasted on sex changes and now I've got a hard-on in parts I thought I'd lost forever."

Marvin didn't reply, but the lights on his control panel were glowing brightly. Eventually his voice box crackled into life. "Ah... ah...ah...CHOO!" - Hortense cringed beneath a shower of small electronic components - "I feel so much better!" continued Marvin, "Aren't you going to bless me?"

Marvin opened the Android Workshop Manual, raised his hand and said "

[underwhere]

Why am I reading from the Android Workshop manual? There are no blessings in here!" Without any thought, he tossed the book up in the air paying no attention to where he was tossing it. When gravity finally took proper hold of the book, it was on a collision course with Hortense's head.

Hortense had been watching Marvin very closely, and had followed the trajectory of the book. When he/she/it saw the book would likely collide with his head, at the very last second, he

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Reached up and caught it. Our of curiosity he opened the book, and found that a hollow had been cut in the middle and filled with a flask of Badgers Special Triple Distilled "Old Smoky" machine oil, and then he realised that Marvin had a habit. Or at least, one of a number of habits - he was forever picking fluff out of his cooling-air intake.

"Right, lad" said Hortense, wondering when his Lancashire accent would wear off. "Let's be getting in wit job! Tha knows we art 'ere for t'mission an we cannot go 'ome witout avin done somethin proper, so give over wit thy silly games, get thy clogs on and move y'self! We've got some hard graft today! Nah Clock On!"

Marvin hummed for a few seconds while his dialect converter interpreted Hortense's words, then he replied "

[underwhere]

Uh, Hortense, since when did you become a slave owner?"

Hortense looked back at Marvin incredulously, and said, with as loud a voice as he could muster, "

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Give Over, Lad, tha knows I'd never own thee, thou's not worth owning, what wit t'cost of maintenance an' all. Now let's get back down t'mine and do a decent shift!"

Marvin hummed and buzzed as Hortense's remarks were translated into English. Eventually the hard-disc LED settled down to a steady pulse, and he replied "Eeeee Bah Gum, tha's reet, lad! Let's get t'job done proper like!"

Hortense stared at him without comprehension. "Tha's talking right funny all of a sudden like, Marvin. What ails thee?"

Marvin stopped, and looked carefully at Hortense, then he reached out his hand an slapped him carefully and precisely on the side of his head. "How does that feel now?" he asked solicitously.

"Much better, thank you," replied Hortense, "I thought I was going mad for a moment there."

[underwhere]

"You were going mad, Hortense," Marvin stated plainly. "In fact, I think you are still mad. What exactly are you mad about? Did your mother give you one too many spankings as a child, or perhaps she didn't give you enough? What is it, Hortense? Something seems to be eating away at you right now."

Hortense was not particularly interested in being psychoanalyzed, at least not at that moment. True, it was fun to lead on the uninitiated. Its amazing what drivel people and machines will believe when they want to believe something. Hortense chuckled before saying, "Nothing, nothing is the matter, but now that you've mentioned about spankings,

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here comes the Captain with a pneumatic jackhammer. I think you're in for it now, and you've certainly deserved it."

Marvin's faceplate lost all its colour and reverted to black and white, and he dashed out of the room, followed closely by the furious Captain. Moments later there was a loud metallc crash, followed by the sound of a jackhammer battering at Marvin's baseplate and the frantic wail of Marvin's siren at full blast.

Eventually the Captain reappeared, and said: "

[Bonsai]

Tragedy strikes through our lives like carcinogen tobacco used to kill humans who willingly inhaled the smoke obtained burning it. It's right for living being's fate to be like that: meaning of sufference is just that, together with all the other ingredients, makes life tasty enough to be bearable and not too boring. Next time you bring up my madness, it will be the pneumatic jackhammer again for you. If I recall well, once upon a time Confucius said that 'it takes a fool to remain sane'. That's right for me; for you, it just takes a pneumatic jackhammer."

Captain sighted, knowing that the worse was still to come: "And now, let's finish the job. I have here for you....

[underwhere]

some rusted and torn-up metal in need of recycling. I think you are smart enough to figure out where the metal came from, but I really don't care. Nobody insults me and gets away with it easily."

"So you are a proud murderer, then," Hortense stated, grinning.

"Indeed I am, and I wouldn't hesitate to do it again if somebody else should be as stupid as Marvin was. He didn't deserve to be my father anyway. Indeed, I think he hated me since the day I was born. He used to tell me I would never amount to anything in life. That was before I had a voice, but I had ears and a brain. I could understand the words, but never the logic. I hope he doesn't rest in peace."

Then, the captain exited the room, with Hortense closely behind. It was a grim job, but somebody had to do it. Once they tossed all of the metal down the recycling chute,

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and retired to the wardroom for a drink. Unfortunately the optic on the gin bottle was defective, but they took the bottle off the bracket and poured by hand.

"Captain," said Hortense reflectively, "who's going to fix things around here when they go wrong, now that we've recycled Marvin?"

"No problem. We'll just order up another robot from the supply system. It'll be here and working withing a few hours. In the meantime, we'll just have to pour our own drinks."

"Ah!" said Hortense, "But what if they're out of stock? Marvin was quite a specialised item."

"No problem. The Supply Machine will simply improvise a new one from whatever is to hand."

"Such as the recycled and scrap parts bin." said Hortense edgily. They were both silent for a time, musing on the possibilities, until they were interrupted by a chime on the door, which opened to reveal a new robot. In every way it was the spitting image of Marvin, except for he bright new paintwork and gleaming chrome. It rolled forward on its tracks and said; "

[underwhere]

Ich ben ein berliner."

Hortense whispered to the captain, "Apparently, it is a jelly doughnut."

Hearing this, the robot's lights started flashing in a logical pattern, albeit very fast. A moment later, it said, "Je suis desolee. L'allemand n'est pas ma premiere langue."

The captain looked quizically at Hortense. Hortense said, "It is sorry. German is not it's first language."

"What language was that?" the captain asked.

"French, sir."

The captain inquired, "Does it speak english?"

Hearing this, the robot answered, "

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"Yeah, mate, wotcha wan then? eh? Oi can speak anyfink yer likes. Does yer want Cockney, Scouse, Geordie, Brummie, Strine, Pidgin, Gorbals Keelie, Taff, anyfink."

"Queen's English?" asked the Captain hopefully.

"Certainly, sir! How would you like your tea?" The robot replied in organ tones. "With milk in first I presume?"

"Splendid!" said the Captain

"I thought so! Peasant!" muttered the robot under it's breath, and rolled smoothly towards the door. "...and what shall I do about this enormous green frog, sir?" he asked in a normal voice.

The Captain said: "

[underwhere]

Did this robot just call me a peasant? Hortense, do you expect that my pneumatic jackhammer might need to come into use again?"

The captain began mimicing the motion necessary to use it with his hands. He needed to keep his hands well-practiced, after all.

Hortense watched the captain with some amount of amusement, though he dare not answer the captain's question directly. Instead, he said, "

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I think you should be merciful, Captain, after all, only peasants put the milk into the tea first."

The Captain glowered at Hortense, but had to admit the point. Making a decent cup of tea was one of the core subjects at NASA's astronaut school. Perish the thought they might one day make contact with a powerful and advanced alien civilisation, and make such a terrible faux pas when pouring the tea! He decided he had to regain control of the situation.

"It's time we got on with our mission," said the captain, "Hortense, did you remember to pack the

[underwhere]

Shrinkerator?"

Hortense frowned. He had wanted to pack that knowing how useful it could be, but ironically, the Shrinkerator was so large and cumbersome that there was no effective way to pack it. And considering how there was still an enormous green frog frolicking around the station somewhere, this was looking like it had been a particularly bad decision on his/her/its part.

"No, Captain. I didn't pack it," Hortense said. He/she/it said no more, knowing that excuses were likely to make the situation even worse, even though his/her decision was well-founded at the time.

"So what are we going to do about this enormous green frog," the Captain asked. "We can't just let it roam around the station causing all kinds of havoc."

"Certainly not, Captain. I suggest

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we enter him for "Moon's Got Talent!""

"What the hell is the point of that?" replied the Captain, nonplussed.

"Well, Captain, Think how many acts you've seen on Earth's got talent. Absolutely awful, all of them. Then they win, and suddenly they're Never Heard Of Again. It's the perfect way to dispose of an alien life-form of unknown capacities."

"Do you think it might work?"

"Well, Captain if we

[underwhere]

bribe the judges, and somehow keep that hidden from all of the tabloids, I think we have a real shot at it."

"What act would the frog perform?"

"Singing, probably some old frog shanty somewhere. It doesn't even really matter what it sings. And, of course, we would also enter it for the largest frog contest."

"How much would that cost?"

"It will probably cost

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your reputation as an honest man, but then you came to us from News International anyway, so what's it worth?"

The Captain scowled. He had volunteered for this mission in the hope that his association with the Murdoch empire would be forgotten in the glory that attached to being an astronaut and explorer, but the taint of once having worked for Murdoch had followed him across quarter of a million miles of space. Perhaps he should have taken that job Gadaffi offered him instead. It came with a nice peaked hat and free petrol for life, even though that life could be short - and end in flames. "We'll give it a try!" he said "Now, how do we go about it?"

Hortense pursed his lips. "What we need is