"M.O.P.S. in Space" - Chapter Three

M.O.P.S. in Space

Chapter Three

By Douglas E. Gogerty

Victor, with his hand beginning to swell, staggered over towards a seat near what appeared to be a bar. His three friends helped him stagger to this previously mentioned seat.

"Here take this," stated a stranger handing Victor a glass of liquid.

Victor took the glass and drank its contents before the stranger could stop him. "What was that," asked Victor with an unusually raspy voice.

"I meant for you to use it to prevent an infection in your wound," replied the stranger with a shrug. "It was 100% ethyl alcohol, and here is another. This time pour it on this bar rag and rap your hand up with it."

Victor did as he was instructed and shouted, "Aaaaaahhhhh!"

"Oh yeah, it might sting a bit," added the stranger.

"Thanks -- whoever you are," Kelly said as Victor collapsed into a chair.

"Sorry," begged the stranger. "I am Jeves. Feel free to ask me anything."

"Okay," started Tommy. "Why is it that everyone here speaks English?"

"That's easy," replied Jeves. "We are not actually speaking. We communicate via telepathy. Our anatomy would make communicating in any vocal form impossible."

"So, you do not need to know our language, you just read our thoughts?" asked Kelly.

"No. You still *think* in English," replied Jeves. "However, with the repository of all your knowledge here, we have access to your races entire knowledge base. She imparted all of your collected knowledge to everyone in the room."

"Gogle is a she?" asked Angus.

"Those tight pants were not enough of a clue for you?" responded Jeves to the query using a tentacle to point to Gogle. "Did you use the voice in your head to make a determination?"

"Ummmmm -- no of course not," Tommy lied.

"At an occasion such as this, if she did not offer you a sperm packet that is another good sign," included Jeves.

"So you're a female too," added Angus.

"You are catching on," replied Jeves with a lilt in her voice, which became perceivably higher to the MOPS members.

"You're beee - you - tee - ful! You know that don't you?" slurred Victor who had begun feeling the affects of the alcohol he just consumed.

"I wish I could say the same about you," muttered Jeves.

"I love you guys," Victor stammered.

"Jesus! He's drunk," exclaimed Angus.

"I'm a Kern," responded Kelly. "I'm dressed as a Sixteenth Century Irish foot soldier."

"Right," apologized Angus. "That is why you have that fake Irish accent."

"I could use a drink myself," interrupted Tommy. "Bartender, could I get a rum and coke?"

The bartender was a completely different race from Gogle, Jeves, and the rest. She did not offer anyone a sperm packet, so everyone decided that the bartender was female. She looked much less like a terrestrial octopus, which was what the others resembled. She was much more cuttlefish-like.

It appeared that she was lying on a backless chair, and would propel herself with two of her ten legs. She wore a black suit that was not totally unlike a tuxedo; except, of course, it had to fit a 10-legged creature.

After hearing Tommy's order, the bartender looked up at a 45-degree angle, which many beings in the universe believe to be the ideal angle in which to look when thinking. After a few moments pause, the bartender turned red and said, "sure" with only a slight amount of disgust in her voice.

The bartender pressed some buttons and turned a few dials on what looked like an espresso machine. Steam poured out of one of the nozzles, and a familiar smell wafted over the group. "Here is your espresso," she said as she passed a cup to Jeves.

"Thanks," replied Jeves as she took the cup.

The bartender then walked over to a computer terminal, and furiously hunted and pecked some things into the computer. She placed a glass into a slot, and it came out with a brown liquid. She returned to the keyboard and entered in some more information. She placed a mirror in the same slot, and pulled it out with two white powdery lines upon it.

The bartender grabbed the pair of things and passed them to Tommy with a straw. Tommy sniffed the rum suspiciously and sipped it. It was possibly the worst rum he had ever tasted. It was like the rum you could buy at a convenience store in a plastic bottle.

"No you misunderstood," explained Tommy. "I wanted rum and Coca-Cola, and if I could get better rum than this, it would be appreciated."

"The recipe for Coca-Cola is a highly guarded secret," snapped the bartender. "I would not want the Coca-Cola Bottling Corporation coming here and causing trouble. So, drink your rum and like it, and take your coke too."

The bartender pushed the mirror towards Tommy. Reluctantly he grabbed it and secretly dumped the contents onto the floor.

"Could I get some Scotch Whiskey and soda?" asked Angus.

"Sure..." the bartender turned a brighter shade of red and replied as if Angus had just asked her for a kidney.

After a similar set of machinations, the bartender set a glass containing a brownish liquid that was very similar to something that someone somewhere might consider scotch. In addition, she set down a glass full of sodium bicarbonate -- baking soda -- to go with the whiskey-like beverage.

Angus decided that a comment would get him nowhere. Thus, he took his "scotch and soda" and took a seat at the bar.

"Hello gorgeous," schmoozed Kelly.

The bartender's angry red colored eased to a more blushing red. "Hello -- er -- um -- handsome," she lied. "What can I get you?"

"What's your name beautiful?" he asked.

"As you can see from my nametag," she said pointing at a badge on what could be described by some as her chest. "My name is Iiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeyaaaaaaah."

"What a -- lovely -- a -- name," stumbled Kelly. "May I call you Ieya?"

"No," the bartender replied kurtly.

"Okay then," Kelly replied from his rebuke.

He gathered his composure and continued "Apparently, I am the designated driver; thus, I need something half as intoxicating as your beauty."

The bartender's color turned from red to something that could be described as a nauseous orange.

"Such as what?" she enquired.

"What would you recommend?"

"How does some weak carbonic acid with a splash of citric acid and laden with sucrose sound to you?"

"That sounds as lovely as your name."

The bartender smiled a big smile. Some people do not think that octopods or cuttlefish-like creatures are capable of smiling. However, if you would have been there, you would now know how wrong some people are. In any event, she placed a glass on the bar and pulled out a nozzle. She pushed a button and filled the glass with a clear bubbly liquid. Kelly gave it a taste, and smiled.

"Thanks sweetheart," Kelly told the bartender with a wink.

"Does your friend with that cougar want another drink?"

"Cougar?" the trio asked the bartender.

"You know," replied the bartender "a cougar -- an older woman who frequents clubs, like this one, in order to -- be intimate -- with a younger man."

The three men looked quizzically at the bartender trying to discern her euphemisms. Finally, the group looked over to Victor, but had a difficult time recognizing him because he had an octopod sitting on him obscuring his face.

"Aahhh! an octopod is sitting on Victor obscuring his face!" shouted Angus.

"She is a hottie though," replied the bartender.

"A face hugger is trying to implant him," added Tommy. "Boy, eighteen years of nothing and then twice in one day!"²

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NOTES:

2:
Cultural reference to (a line) in the movie Heavy Metal -- not to mention the whole Alien thing.