His first words rattled out in an ariose prolixation.
"Hmmmm. Yes. Gibraltor. Position X. Namby-pamby mushroom growths"
For the boys whitnessing this impossible image, they could only stand and slack-stare this columnar face shimmering in a micah-like adlurescence.
"Marbles!" Xormath chortled.
This was no ordinary river rocks, adjurned the boys. Tis had to be some kind of radical adventure alien. Like the kind that visits coming-of-age hooligans waiting for a glossy bolide to fall from space and provide them access to previously unknown technology or a cute life form with gills.
Xormath saw two flesh animals. Deciding instantly that Earth had to be protected by dint of their woad and weld based tie dye shirts. What eco-consciousness.
"Humans!" Hummed the column.
"This thing is totally alive, Greg! What are we going to do?"
Greg approached the glowing pillar
" Oh noblesse of ages. My God, my God. Moses of the tall rushes. We come in peace"
Greg stepped back and stood commensurate to his brother.
"Great, Greg. Now you'll have him thinking we're a class of erudite choads. You gotta level with aliens like they're here for some radical mission to take babes back to some previously undiscovered galaxy."
The Sports Illustrated calendar (featuring Malta's Most Hirsuite Honeys) on the wall started to singe. The boys hardly paid mind.
"Well, what else are we gunna do, Frank? Make him think we're just a couple of plebian chuckleheads? I'd rather he see us as peaceloving intellectuals"
Xormath's column shaped into a pyramid.
"Brine! Brindled frogs!"
Xormath could see he was confusing hs hosts; downloading an entire planet's languages, living, dead, artificial and ululational was no easy task.
"Please...please...." He emitted.
The boys looked at eachother. "Please" what?
" Please..... CD ROM. Place....upon paraplexus"
Greg tossed the nearby Enigma CD into Xormath's column.
Richochet noises. The galaxy became two wholes now. No ambiguity for anyone.
The boys were suddenly far beyond the comforts of their garage and rock tumbling. They were now in a galactic hyper-dimension with magnetotails, dust lanes and the hydrogen cumulus circlets ringing the galaxy in a sandwich of endless illumination.
Xormath began to sing. It was like the sound of 3,000 lambs given Xanax and a small dash of chicory bitters. Lambs hate chicory, but wobble nontheless.
"Oooeeeeooooiiiiiaaah" Xormath rattled.
Space left the boys feeling a bit frightened. Wasn't it a vaccuum? Why sound? Why a lack of gravity? Were they dead?
"This can't be..." whispered Frank " Space can't support human life"
Greg shushed him. "Just go with it."
The entity continued to throat sing until a a glowing heliotrop forcefield enveloped all three. The faces of unknown alien saints seemed to join them. Frank and Greg could feel the fibres in their Dazzle and Nylon clothing morph into something not as of yet known to textile manufacturing. It continued to blend plasmalike until it became difficult to discern if it was armor or loincloth.
Finally, Xormath spoke " You have been elected, young Greg and Frank to the role of galactic defenders against the villany of poor table manners and punditry. Also unfair taxes for elderly pet owners and from non phonetic languages. Furthermore, galactic fiends."
"Galactic fiends?" asked Greg.
Xormath projected an image of several tiny bandaitos in a hologram spreading about seven meters. He finished austerely "These banditos."
"This is not to scale" advised Xormanth.
"Also your real enemies will not be banditos. Please note this is for educational purposes only"
The minature banditos seemed to be in the middle of a fracas. Horses whinied and ectoplasmic cacti exploded. They appeared to be fighting with slabs of New York style rib-eye steak.
Xormanth again realized he was confusing his hosts and dimmed the projection.
From out of the dust lane fell 2 medallions shaped like lightning bolts..or phallices, or what Greg at first believed to be an acorn.
"What are these? They look like they're some kind of poorly drawn stick medallion"
"Yes" agreed Frank. " Are we stick warriors? Like David Carridine?"
Xormanth remained patient and cool faced for having no face.
" You are now charged as defenders of your arm of the galaxy as Task Force Team Nylon Prism"
Space was suddenly silent again
Before Frank could ask further, Xormanth was tired of this interview. These punks were ready without further catechism.
In a flash, both brothers were back in their garage, the jasper flecks back to rolling in the tumbler. The Enigma CD was gone. Their clothing was now this Space Nylon mentioned by Xormath. It was like nudity but with all of the comforts of a seal skin. Slick, powerful, maybe somewhat pinching. Nothing some softener couldn't help .
All Greg could think about is going back to Colorado for more extraterrestrial jasper in the hopes that the next entity will be female.
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