Madonna and the Starship (9781616961220) by James Morrow Page A

afternoon, fearful that the IRT might break down—it was known to happen—I splurged on a cab, unaware that a labyrinth of interconnected traffic jams lay between the Village and Rockefeller Center. I reached NBC a mere forty minutes before the final chapter of “The Cobra King of Ganymede” would hit the airwaves. Presiding over the front desk was Claude Moffet, a washed-up actor who’d once played Diet Smith on the old Dick Tracy radio serial. I told him that, come four-fifteen, two actors wearing trench coats and Mardi Gras lobster costumes would arrive for a guest appearance on Uncle Wonder’s Attic .
    My next stop was dressing room B, where a chattering Trixie transformed me into Uncle Wonder. I hurried to Studio One. Stepping onto the attic set, I realized that, in case the Qualimosans failed to show up, I should have a science experiment ready. I rooted around in the steamer trunk, soon finding the stuff I’d once used to build a Galvanic cell on camera: zinc cathode, copper anode, glass salt-bridge, jars of sulfate solution—plus a flashlight bulb to test the battery’s efficacy. Yes, the audience had already seen this demonstration, and, yes, it had nothing to do with today’s episode, but I could address both anomalies by declaring that a good experiment was always worth repeating.
    Stationed in the announcer’s booth, Connie turned in another fine performance, deftly delivering the recapitulation of Wednesday’s cliffhanger, then preparing the audience for chapter three, “Cataract of Fire.”
    Needless to say, the molten lava did not consume Brock, Wendy, and Lance, who escaped its wrath when Cotter Pin cloaked his friends in an antigravity matrix. The Triton ’s crew then surveyed the incinerated fortress, seeking proof that they’d dealt a fatal blow to Argon Drakka’s python project. Cut to a commercial: Brock at Galaxy Central eating and endorsing Sugar Corn Pops. Cut back to Ganymede. Suddenly Drakka emerged from the ashes, secure within a spacecraft to which he’d tethered his latest creation, a snake-egg the size of a meteor. The evil madman rocketed away, towing the immense spheroid behind him. The Triton gave chase. As Drakka approached Earth, his cargo doubled in mass and volume, then trebled, quadrupled, quintupled. Abruptly he cut the egg loose, and it plunged into the Pacific Ocean, cracking open on impact. From the organic capsule an enormous serpent emerged and immediately encircled the planet. (Somehow Mike Zipser persuaded a live python to wrap itself around a huge Rand McNally globe borrowed from the New York Public Library.) “People of Earth!” cried Drakka, broadcasting his threat via his ship’s loudspeakers. “Obey me now, or I shall squash your sphere like a tangerine in a chain-mail fist!” At this unnerving juncture, Cotter Pin enacted a daring scheme. Harnessing all his technical prowess, he reversed the Earth’s magnetic poles, thus flinging the serpent into deep space. Fade-out. Cut to Brock doing an Ovaltine commercial. Dissolve to title card, THE PHANTOM ASTEROID .
    â€œJoin us next week for a brand new adventure, ‘The Phantom Asteroid’!” Connie told the audience. “Until then, remember the code of the Rocket Rangers! ‘Equality and justice for creatures of all races, colors, creeds, tentacle types, and eyeball arrays’!”
    Now Floyd brought up camera three: Uncle Wonder and Andy Tuckerman occupying the attic set as the Motorola displayed the title card, THE PHANTOM ASTEROID. I deactivated the tube, cleared my throat, and glanced at my watch. 4:20 P.M. My crustaceans were five minutes late. Damn.
    I decided I’d better resurrect the original script, telling Andy, “I thought our planet was gonna be crushed! What an exciting climax!”
    â€œYou can say that again!”
    â€œHey, Andy, ever wondered how a flashlight battery