Ed who?
On Dwarfs and Leeches
Poison Snakes ordered the Spycraft he
needed for the experiment on account of the Royal
Bank. It was even offered as a free trial for a whole
year… He discovered in the bank newspaper that if your
account had a line of credit for 100 million Galactic
Credits or more, all you had to do to receive such a
gift was to fill out Form W-13 (with 14 duplicates)
and specify your reasons.
Instead of “intelligence gathering” or anything like
that, the snake wrote this down in the form:
| The above item is necessary for... |
JUST SO I
DON’T BITE
YOUR MAMMA’S ASS!!!
|
It went through.
Fourteen days later (the standard delivery time for
bank gifts) the Spycraft arrives for inspection and
lands in all her might and glory. She’s all golden and
Golden Eye is
her name. Golden Eye
420, to be exact. The latest, shiniest, most
sophisticated model.
The team of extraterrestrials* – all dressed in white
and blue – are lined up orderly before the bridge.
Each has his name on a golden nametag attached to his
chest. Snakes scans the lineup and reads the nametags
carefully as if they were his sports newspaper.
*‘Extraterrestrials’
and ‘alien’ is entirely not the same thing! While
‘alien’ refers to any “outsider” life form, like any
rabbit or sardine which are not “ours,”
extraterrestrials on the other hand are social, cultural,
intelligent beings like you and me.
The first row of crewmen is made up of
the commanders and officers. Their Chief Commander,
Pilot and Captain, stands at the very end of the row,
towering a head and a half above his entire crew.
 The
nametag of the Golden Eye’s Captain reads ‘Dwarf’
which is a strange name for a slim but solid fellow
towering to the height of no less than 2 meters and 17
centimeters.
“Dwarf your real name?” asks Snakes when he gets to
Dwarf.
“Shall we change the subject? In nine days from n---”
“Wait wait you want to tell me that all of your
species are much taller than you? What? Three meters?
Four meters? Five?” insists Snakes. At times you just
cannot make up your mind if you should give the
Galactic Leech
Trophy to Gay Kucken – or to our dear Poison
here.
“No, they are barely a meter twenty, meter thirty.
What about work?”
“So why did they name you Dwarf?” leeches our leech.
“Ad absurdum*,” says the Captain.
*To
absurd [Latin] = making a point by taking it to
absurd.
“Ed who?”
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