obviously the scorpions had done their homework and found a deliciously foul bird to baste and roast. The meat was tender and melted in your mouth. The gravy and potato-like vegetables tasted almost like back home on Old Earth. The scorpions meticulously researched our Thanksgiving Day traditions and put on quite a feast. I enthusiastically proposed a toast. “To this fine meal, friends, associates, and even the spider Intelligentsia, let us give thanks and appreciation. My complements to your chef on this fine turkey meal.”
“It’s Mantidae,” bragged the scorpion Ambassador. “Only the best for our honored guests.”
Sergeant Green coughed and violently spit out his food in mid-chew, spraying the table with meat chunks and dressing. I slapped Green on the back, fearing something had lodged itself down his windpipe. “Are you okay?” I asked as Green regained his composure.
“Bob is AWOL!” reported Sergeant Green, upset and animated. “What about Bob?” I asked, not understanding. “Private Robert Rashid is AWOL,” repeated Sergeant Green. “He was last seen making a mail delivery to this embassy!” “So?” I asked, getting irritated. “We can discuss administrative matters when we get back to our embassy. Lighten up, Green. This is a party. Enjoy yourself for a change.” As I forked another bite, Sergeant Green slapped my turkey aside, splattering the spider Intelligentsia officer next to me. “Private Rashid is a Mantid. We are eating Bob! ”
I threw up. Guido, a sympathetic vomiter, threw up, too. Sergeant Williams followed suit.
“Do you need a doctor?” asked the scorpion ambassador. “I hope this is not another one of your human flu outbreaks. What was it last time, rat or bird flu?”
“Czerinski, you always make a mess of things,” scolded Ambassador Yamashita. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“It is certainly bad form to be puking on guests and our host,” added Lulu primly as she dabbed at her cheek with a napkin corner. “He’s such a slob!”
“We are eating a legionnaire!” I yelled. “We are eating Bob!”
“Czerinski, have you gone mad?” asked Ambassador Yamashita, taking another bite of Bob. “This is the best turkey I have ever eaten. Did you forget to take your medications again?”
“Dinner is over,” I announced. “We are leaving. You have not heard the last of this outrage!”
“You are overreacting,” advised the scorpion ambassador, alarmed at yet another seeming example of irrational human volatility. “Mantid is a traditional Scorpion Empire meal. My apologies. I would have imported Old Earth turkey if I had known it meant so much to you.”
“We will not forget Bob!” I proclaimed as legionnaires stormed out.
Private Wayne gulped another bite, washed it down with wine, and joined the exodus. He corked the bottle and slipped it into a pouch.
“Until I receive further instructions from my chain of command, assume a state of war exists between the United States Galactic Federation and the Scorpion Empire!” I threatened as I headed for the door. “Private Robert Rashid will be avenged!”
“We are eating Bob?” shrieked Lulu. “Are you sure?”
“Bob who?” asked Ambassador Yamashita. Lulu whispered in his ear. Yamashita threw up too as he scrambled for the door.
back to Table of Contents
Chapter 8
I painted ‘What About Bob?’ on the turret of my armored car as legionnaires loaded gear, weapons, and ammunition. At the crack of dawn, our convoy of three armored cars left the American Embassy compound en route cross-town to attack the Scorpion Embassy. War had been declared. I declared it. Private Rashid would be avenged today.
* * * * *
Ambassador Yamashita called General Lopez. “Colonel Czerinski has lost his mind this time! At this very moment, Czerinski is mobilizing the entire security detail to attack the Scorpion Embassy. It’s madness. He
“It’s Mantidae,” bragged the scorpion Ambassador. “Only the best for our honored guests.”
Sergeant Green coughed and violently spit out his food in mid-chew, spraying the table with meat chunks and dressing. I slapped Green on the back, fearing something had lodged itself down his windpipe. “Are you okay?” I asked as Green regained his composure.
“Bob is AWOL!” reported Sergeant Green, upset and animated. “What about Bob?” I asked, not understanding. “Private Robert Rashid is AWOL,” repeated Sergeant Green. “He was last seen making a mail delivery to this embassy!” “So?” I asked, getting irritated. “We can discuss administrative matters when we get back to our embassy. Lighten up, Green. This is a party. Enjoy yourself for a change.” As I forked another bite, Sergeant Green slapped my turkey aside, splattering the spider Intelligentsia officer next to me. “Private Rashid is a Mantid. We are eating Bob! ”
I threw up. Guido, a sympathetic vomiter, threw up, too. Sergeant Williams followed suit.
“Do you need a doctor?” asked the scorpion ambassador. “I hope this is not another one of your human flu outbreaks. What was it last time, rat or bird flu?”
“Czerinski, you always make a mess of things,” scolded Ambassador Yamashita. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“It is certainly bad form to be puking on guests and our host,” added Lulu primly as she dabbed at her cheek with a napkin corner. “He’s such a slob!”
“We are eating a legionnaire!” I yelled. “We are eating Bob!”
“Czerinski, have you gone mad?” asked Ambassador Yamashita, taking another bite of Bob. “This is the best turkey I have ever eaten. Did you forget to take your medications again?”
“Dinner is over,” I announced. “We are leaving. You have not heard the last of this outrage!”
“You are overreacting,” advised the scorpion ambassador, alarmed at yet another seeming example of irrational human volatility. “Mantid is a traditional Scorpion Empire meal. My apologies. I would have imported Old Earth turkey if I had known it meant so much to you.”
“We will not forget Bob!” I proclaimed as legionnaires stormed out.
Private Wayne gulped another bite, washed it down with wine, and joined the exodus. He corked the bottle and slipped it into a pouch.
“Until I receive further instructions from my chain of command, assume a state of war exists between the United States Galactic Federation and the Scorpion Empire!” I threatened as I headed for the door. “Private Robert Rashid will be avenged!”
“We are eating Bob?” shrieked Lulu. “Are you sure?”
“Bob who?” asked Ambassador Yamashita. Lulu whispered in his ear. Yamashita threw up too as he scrambled for the door.
back to Table of Contents
Chapter 8
I painted ‘What About Bob?’ on the turret of my armored car as legionnaires loaded gear, weapons, and ammunition. At the crack of dawn, our convoy of three armored cars left the American Embassy compound en route cross-town to attack the Scorpion Embassy. War had been declared. I declared it. Private Rashid would be avenged today.
* * * * *
Ambassador Yamashita called General Lopez. “Colonel Czerinski has lost his mind this time! At this very moment, Czerinski is mobilizing the entire security detail to attack the Scorpion Embassy. It’s madness. He
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