| “Kathleen, I’m a bit concerned.
I have no idea where we’re heading. Could you please
give me a coordinate reading?” Ken was speaking to Kathleen,
the on-board voice recognition system of the Dream Vet. “I’m
still checking Ken. My sensors indicate that we’re somewhere
over the Atlantic, heading towards Europe. “What? How
is that possible?” “When you instructed me to
take the vehicle to warp speed, I did just that. We’re
now cruising at mach 3. We’ll be passing the Concorde
on the left in approximately 27 seconds.” Ken peered
through the window of the Vet. Just as Kathleen had predicted,
the Concorde blipped by momentarily. “Oh my God! I guess
I never really realized the power of vodka! This is incredible!”
“My sensors indicate that the vodka level is beginning
to drop in the system. We should start decelerating and begin
our descent.” “No problem Kathleen, take us in.”
There was a slight vibration as the Vet decelerated to sub-sonic
speed. Kathleen took the Vet down and landed her with barely
a jolt. Vodka, Twirlina, and Billy all woke up simultaneously.
The subzero temperatures outside of the Vet during atmospheric
re-entry had caused the windows to frost over. “Wow!”
Said Billy. “Where are we?” “Good Question.
Kathleen, could you give me a location readout please.”
“My sensors indicate U4/5, Theresienwiese.” “Ken,
you really need to get Kathleen fixed! Her sensors have obviously
overloaded!” Kathleen zapped the electrodes in Billy’s
seat. “Hey! What’s with that?!” “Kathleen’s
just letting you know her sensors are fully operational. We
really have landed in Theresienwiese.” Replied Ken.
Twirlina’s emergency flag signals engaged. She began
flailing them in the back seat. “Emergency! Emergency!
We’re crash landed and our pilot is suffering from delusions!”
Vodka slapped Twirlina’s flags away from her face. “Would
you stop it! Enough with the flags already! I can’t
believe I’m sober for the first time in seven years
and can see for the first time that you’re all insane!”
Billy and Twirlina realized the same thing…they were
each completely sober for the first time in years, and even
more amazing…none of them had a hangover. Yet another
unexpected side effect of the V-Squared system…along
with the vodka, it completely siphoned the hangover out of
each source. “Wow!” Billy again reiterated. “This
is totally amazing! I wonder what else this thing can do!
Who is this Theresa bitch anyway?”
“That’s Theresienwiese you idiot, don’t
you know anything?!” Said Vodka. “It’s the
Oktoberfest grounds in Munich!” Vodka’s knowledge
of geography stunned her companions. It was amazing what revelations
came to light when one was sober. “This thing transported
us all the way across the Atlantic and took away our hangovers
at the same time? I always knew vodka would work wonders,
if we could just learn how harness its power to its full potential!
I wonder what else the V-Squared can do.” Said Twirlina.
“I don’t know what else it can do, but I know
what I have to do right now!” Said Vodka as she removed
the suction device from her head. “Where’s the
ladies room?” “I know one thing for sure, it’s
not in here!” Said Ken. “What do you say we step
outside and have a look?” The remaining candidates removed
their suction units and Billy was first to open the door.
A rush of oom-pah-pah and bratwurst filled the Vet. Little
chocolate hearts with plastic monks attached were the accessory
of the day. Ken secured the vet after everyone had stepped
out. Instinct took over and the quartet proceeded immediately
to the Brauhausel tent and ordered a gallon of beer each (a
medium size drink in German beeralect). Before long they were
all singing songs about Alice, Sara, and Maria while performing
various renditions of the macarena atop a table. There were
tubas and steins everywhere. It was a most jovial crowd. Twirlina
pulled out yet another pair of portable flags and attempted
to hail the aliens once again. Her flags were quickly snatched
away by a rather large tuba-meister who insisted on wearing
them as a head ornament. Twirlina returned to her stein and
an early rendition of the macarena. Vodka was right at home.
She had stumbled to the floor and positioned herself under
a table so as to avoid any further falls. She was soon joined
by several new friends and was quite content among the sawdust
and steins.
Billy and Ken were another story. For some reason Billy felt
the need to play Strip Steiner. With every sip of his beer
he would remove an article of clothing. Ken, being a man of
modest nature, would then find the article and reattach it
to Billy. Billy now appeared as if he were a 1963 Kenmore
portable clothesline, the square kind that was attached to
a pole and would rotate for easy access. The Germans loved
the game, and encouraged Ken and Billy to keep going by hooking
them up to a limitless supply of beer. Billy lifted the sock
from his nose and shouted “Prost!” to Ken. It
was amazing how quickly Billy had become fluent in the language
of beer.
Several hours later the cleanup crew began to sweep the crowd
out of the tent. Oktoberfest celebrations ended promptly at
eleven each night, so as to allow sufficient time for the
participants to locate any lost relatives and lost articles
of clothing before heading home. Ken and Billy reattached
their clothing as best they could, and scooped up Vodka and
Twirlina as they headed towards the Vet. Accommodations were
scarce during this most hallowed period, so the travelers
opted to spend the night in the Vet. Actually, they passed
out before any type of decision could be made.
Ken was the first to awaken the next morning at 3pm. He stretched
and yawned quite loudly. There was no response from any of
his comrades. Their bodies were still quite saturated. Ken
decided to hook up the V-Squared to each of them while they
were still unconscious, and attempt to pilot the Vet back
home. He carefully attached the siphon to each unconscious
head unit. He wiped the drool away as he stretched the elastic
below Billy’s chin. Billy’s clothes were still
applied quite haphazardly. Ken was certain that Billy would
rejoice in the knowledge that there were no photographers
nearby, were he conscious. When all of the passengers had
been secured, Ken spoke. “Kathleen, We’re ready
to head home. Activate the V-Squared please.” “Good
Afternoon, Ken. One moment please.” There was a brief
pause. “My sensors indicate that the fuel level is quite
low. Please add fuel before proceeding.” “Too
low? How can that be?” Ken suddenly realized. Beer had
a much lower octane level than vodka. “Of course! Why
didn’t I think of that?” “Kathleen, how
far can we proceed on our current fuel level?” “Approximately
1000 miles.” “Hmmm. I have an idea. Set the coordinates
for Paris, please.” “Transaction complete.”
“Activate the V-Squared, please. I’m going to
take us to Paris.” “Affirmative.”
Ken fired up the engines and navigated slowly from the grounds
of the Theresienwiese. He was careful to avoid any leftover
celebrants or small children. Once out to the Frankfurter
Ring he opened up the throttles and blasted northwest. The
Vet soon became airborne once again. It was a lovely fall
day and he could see for miles. In less than an hour the Eiffel
Tower was visible on the horizon. “Kathleen, I’d
like to begin our descent now.” “Affirmative.
Descent commencing.”
“What the hell?!” Billy awoke with a start. “Is
that the Eiffel tower?!” “What?!” Exclaimed
Vodka from the back seat. Twirlina was now completely out
of flagging units, but she managed to flail her arms and perform
a mock flag motion. “Danger! Danger! Frogs dead ahead!”
She said with a giggle. “Ken, what in the hell is going
on? Every time I close my eyes I wake up in another country!
I’m never going to sleep again!” Said Vodka. “Nonsense!”
Replied Ken. “We all know how hideous that cherubic
little face of yours would appear without any sleep!”
“Bitch!”
Ken piloted the Vet to the ground and touched down near the
Place de la Concorde. From there he proceeded down boulevard
and merged quite inconspicuously with traffic. He headed straight
for Chanel. As he pulled up in front a valet approached the
Vet. Ken was on a mission. “OK everybody, time to go
shopping!” “Oh, how exciting!” Gushed Vodka.
“You take me to Chanel wearing THIS?” Snapped
Billy. “I mean, just look at me!” “Well,
all the more reason to go inside. If anyone can fix you, Coco
can!” The voyeurs each hopped out in tandem, and Ken
took the receipt from the valet. In their hurry to exit the
Vet, Ken’s companions had forgotten to remove their
head siphons.
“Ooo-la-la! What have we here? Mah-rie, come quickly!
Dorothy’s friends have arrived!” The clerk clapped
her hands in excitement. Her assistant shouted from the back:
“Oh madame! We have friends of Dorothy coming in each
day, it is nothing new.” “No, no Fifi! These are
REALLY friends of Dorothy! Come quickly!” Fifi appeared
momentarily and burst into laughter. “Sacre bleu madame!
Indeed, zee tin men have appeared before us! It eez a miracle!”
“Madame, that is exactly why I am here! You see, I have
designed these head units and they are seriously in need of
some fashion redesign. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Oh, oui messeur. Throw zem out and start all over again!
I cannot believe zat you would put funnels on zee heads of
zeez poor people! It eez an outrage! Pierre!”
Pierre was one of Madame Coco’s fashion slaves. He
would spend countless hours, days, and weeks slaving away
on fashion designs for Madame Coco, only to be humiliated
and made to feel worthless. Madame Coco would then place thousand
dollar price tags on each of Pierre’s designs and make
a killing on them. Pierre would receive a bonus of seven francs
and a crepe. Yet he stayed on, all for the prestige of working
for one of Paris’ most respected fashion divas. Ken
never could understand the French, but then, who could? “Pierre,
look at zem! Zay need our help desperately! What can you do
wiz zem?” “Oh madame! It is not so hopeless. We
just need to soften zee lines of the funnel, perhaps add a
little splash of texture and color, hide zee plastic tubes
and metal plates. Give me an hour or two, I can fix zem in
no time!” “Fantastique! Now go to work. It is
not polite to keep our guests waiting. In zee meantime, may
I interest you in a suit, messeur?” Madame Coco directed
her question to Billy, who was attempting to put his shirt
back on right side forward. “You know, that would be
an excellent idea madame.” “And perhaps some cologne
for all of you!” The smell of beer was quite prevalent.
“Absolutely!” They replied simultaneously. “Come
zis way!”
Madame Coco led the comrades to a private salon, where each
was doused with cologne and given the opportunity to try on
the very latest creations. “Would any of you like anything
to drink?” “Oh yes!” Three of the four replied
(Ken was driving). Soon the sound of vodka splashing over
ice was echoing throughout the salon. It didn’t take
long for the gang to reach their maximum vodka capacity. The
V-Squared would no longer be low on fuel. Pierre returned
with several sketches.
“Oh these are all so fabulous. How long would it take
to have prototypes built?” “Oh, perhaps a week
or so. Two at the most.” “Excellent! Ken requested
a prototype of each newly designed fashionably correct siphon
unit. He handed Madame Coco his credit card and prayed that
it would not explode. She quickly processed the transaction.
When Ken heard the receipt begin to print he breathed a heavy
sigh of relief. “OK gang. Our work on this continent
is done for the day. What do you say we head back?”
“Great! Just let me pay for my suit and I’ll be
ready.” Said Billy. “Oh yeah, and I’ll take
a pint of this cologne. It’s quite fabulous!”
Said Vodka. Twirlina purchased two meters of fabric for a
future flagging event. When they were ready Madame Coco hailed
the valet and bid her clients adieu.
Ken tipped the valet the requisite 600 francs and checked
to make sure that each of his passengers were bucked up with
their siphon units securely attached. “Kathleen, how’s
the fuel level now?” “One hundred Percent, Ken.”
“Take us home!” “Please stand by to engage
V-Squared. Countdown in progress.” In no time at all
the gang was on their way home.
Please note: Ken will be off-line for the next two weeks,
while he explores a more conventional means of transportation
to the Far East.
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