Chapter 4

6.3K 147 29
                                    

                                                          CHAPTER 4

                              Further Arrogance and Schlepschen Pools

There are many questions I’m certain you have swirling around your head already regarding the culture, behaviours, beliefs, activities, government and history of The Greegs.  One thing you should be asking is “What is the name of the planet these silly creatures live on?”  To be truthful though, these particular Greegs have not found it necessary to name their home planet, as astounding a concept as that may be to you. 

Space mapping space mappers once labelled it “one of 11 planets containing wriggly, walky, breathy things in the hopeless, undeveloped but reasonably entertaining to look at from a safe distance sun system of the 38 planets in the 59 sunned district of Herb,” and with that dismissive but wholly accurate generalization, they went on to map, in much more detail, several of the more illustrious and glorious areas of the many universes they happened to be mapping at the time.

The Greegs simply called it ‘our planet.’  Despite measuring only 597 cm tall on average, (well done with the metric system earthlings, at least you did get something right) the Greegs still had the audacity to believe that their entire planet (measuring an astounding 87, 000 km in diameter, on average) belonged to them.   As if they had any say in the matter.  As if they had any idea how they even got there in the first place.  

They genuinely believed its only reason for existing was to offer them a steady supply of schmold and to act as their planetary shelter.  Not that they knew or cared about what it was sheltering them from.  Then again, these were creatures that believed all plains of existence were merely inconsequential pretty things for them to look at.  What an arrogant, self-absorbed bunch of jackasses, wouldn’t you say?

Another question you may be asking yourself is why The Greegs would be so keen to take a bath in a sticky, wet, green goo.  How could they possibly think this was a splendid idea, no less a sign of wealth and status?  To be true, if you took aside an individual Greeg and tried to get them to explain to you the rationality behind worshipping a glowing, greenish slime they would not be able to give you a satisfactory or remotely logical explanation.  They would look at you in disbelief and say things like “It is the most precious substance that exists, you fool!  Why wouldn’t we want to obtain loads of it and bathe in it?”  You would be hard pressed to shake them from this line of thinking.  Even if you did shake them from this line of thinking, the best case scenario would involve them telling other Greegs involved in high up committees and eventually being blasted out of a cannon towards a garbage planet.

You might also be wondering what it is that Greegs do should they be so fortunate as to have a bath of Schmold.  Surely they don’t just wash it all off afterwards or put their clothes on?!  No, they do neither, because Greegs do not wear clothes.  They are a naked creature.  Hairy, smelly, naked and filthy.  Filth is a sign of prestige and honour in the Greeg society.  Nakedness, doubly so.  To understand why this is the case, you must first understand a bit more about the unnamed planet these filthy, wretched, naked things live on.

One of the 11 planets containing wriggly, walky, breathy things in the hopeless, undeveloped but reasonably entertaining to look at from a safe distance sun system of the 38 planets in the 59 sunned district of Herb is arguably the cleanest, most spotless floating orb within forty seven trillion parsecs of the 11 planets containing wriggly, walky, breathy things in the hopeless, undeveloped but reasonably entertaining to look at from a safe distance sun system of the 38 planets in the 59 sunned district of Herb. 

The planet is stunningly, immaculately, and amazingly clean.  Spotless surfaces that look like varnished marble, shiny glass windows and freshly bleached tile floors abound.  All of the things that live on the planet are clean and tidy.  They all work cohesively in a truly mind blowing balance, each playing their role in keeping the place absolutely spotless.  Gorgeous.  Clean.  Fresh.  Beautiful.

All… except The Greegs.  The Greegs look at the cleanliness of the planet in disdain.  They may go out on a field trip to view the clean parts of the planet, but just to take a look at.  It gives them an icky feeling if they stay out there too long.  They much prefer to stay in their filthy mud camps, bogs, marshes and Schlepschen pools.  The places where The Greegs reside in great numbers look like big piles of garbage dumped on the otherwise pristine landscape.  No one can be sure, but this is most likely because the places where The Greegs reside in great numbers ARE big piles of garbage dumped on the otherwise pristine landscape. 

Greegs treat their planet as if they were a pack of unruly teenagers, anti-establishment punk rockers and street people whose distant relatives died and left them a ridiculously fancy home.  They’ve done nothing to earn such a nice place, and have no appreciation for its value or how to keep a house like this in order.  In fact, they view the house as a sign of snootiness they want no part of.  As far as they’re concerned, about the only good thing about the house is it has one hell of a liquor supply in the basement.  The liquor supply is schmold.

Greegs & LaddersWhere stories live. Discover now