REPORT
FROM THE FIELD
By Eric Scotmeister Fleiglehaus |
Greetings from Zarkon! You
probably don't even know where Zarkon is, but that doesn't matter
since I do, and I'm here. So sit back in your favorite
chair, kick off your shoes, grab a Guinness and enjoy, because
this is my.....Report from the Field. |
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I arrived here
on.... Actually I don't know when I arrived. I
appear to have some missing time. Some of this is coming
back to me right now while I'm talking to you. At first,
I couldn't remember too much. Anyway, it sure wasn't easy getting
here I can tell you, because my car.... I mean, the
trip from my bedroom or wherever I was to.... Well,
I don't really know how I got here, but that doesn't matter. What
matters is that when I got here, I was met by.... Well,
I don't precisely know who or what he was, but he seemed to be
in charge, and he spoke passable English although with a thick
accent. His title is The
Trime and his name is Murkel.
Oh, by the way, here is the planet -irkon,
or as it has been translated to me, Zarkon. I should have
told you that right away. My suitcases were all brought
with me, and for the first several hours
(some unspecified time units), I was forced to drink what I can
only describe as large bags of a peculiar tasting liquid that
they called Xunch which made
me feel quite intoxicated. Then I was carried in some kind
of a conveyance called a railroad
car to some windowless quarters with the strange sign Guest
over an oval door. They told me what it meant but I've forgotten.
They kept asking me questions, like lshk
Blhhdoe Chfj Fa Mhgjg?
which I think had something to do with gobo roots. I told
them I wanted to see their leader, but the one called Murkel
just shook his head.
I was left alone in the small
resting cubicle for what seemed like a couple of days. Every
eight hours or so someone would bring some food. The last
time it was, I was told, some nice gfhd
and ljlfj, served
on a bed of DHeykl.
I was given what was clearly water, although they
called it ljdhe.
The large silver-headed, cellophane-clothed creatures took
turns questioning me, but my answers were never satisfactory.
Once, when I found myself alone in one of the offices,
I looked out what appeared to be a tiny window and saw a small,
blue sun going down toward a blue horizon. I had a few scraps
of paper and the stub of a chewed pencil in my pocket, and I worked
on my Report off and on while trying to figure out
the display dials and gauges that were labelled in their curious
language. Eventually, Murkel
asked me if I wanted to go home and I said I did. I don't remember
much about the trip back, but it seemed to take only a few minutes,
and then I was back in my living room again.
Well, that's about it for
this issue. I didn't find out too much about my Zarkonese
abductors, but they didn't find out too much about me either,
at least not when I was awake. I guess we'll have to watch
Thursday's TV program on the Eureka Channel about the planet Zarkon
to find out where I was and what it was like there. If there
is a next time, I might be at the Mitsuo Ohhohoho Primate Language
Institute right here in Hellmouth, or at the Blue Snowmonkey Reserve
on Kyushu, or the Mongolian Simian Study Center in the Hangayn
Mountains of Central Mongolia or Abominable Primates National
Park in far-off rocky Rafikistan. You never know where I might
be. But I'll be there. So until then, I'll just say So long.
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