Pablo placed the bucket of Glongo milk on the table. Resting his 2 green, Gumby-like legs on a footstand made of stale saltines, he began to calculate meaningless equations. His curly ginger hair danced in the artificial wind created by the desk fan upon his kitchen counter.
He never intended to become a Glongo rancher, but it seemed to be what was destined for him after his mother ran away to the Space Zone to marry a foreign dalmatian dealer, leaving Pablo all alone at the plot of land he knew as home. It had been about 2 months since he had been in charge, and had to go through the tedious work on his lonesome until it seemed easy to him. It was then that he was caught up in his thoughts that his phone rang. Pablo skedaddled to the bright red telephone that lay upon his upside-down nightstand. When he picked up the phone, he was greeted by a voice he didn't recognize.
"Pablo?" said the squeaky, childlike voice on the other end.
"Who is this?" inquired Pablo, who was utterly confused at who that could be.
"It's me, Luckie. Remember me from yesterday at the sand convention?"
It was then that Pablo Ducklopod II, the very forgetful being, began to picture a scene he remembered quite well. He was extremely tired, parched, and sick from accidentally inhaling a large amount of sand during his favorite weekly event, the sand convention. As he stumbled through the very large, yet dim rooms on his way to the exit, he bumped into a small child with blonde hair who then proceeded to rattle on about her life as if he was in any mood to listen to an autobiography. Pablo remembered little detail from the conversation besides her name, Luckie. Pablo assumed that at some point during the exchange he had told her his telephone number. Hopefully so.
"Yes, I vaguely remember you. What are you calling for exactly?"
"Considering that you are both a talented ballet dancer and a seasoned chess player, I was hoping that you could assist in assisting me in assisting my aunt in curing her friend of a strange disease which has made her unable to do anything but pirouette and claim 'king me!'"
"Sure, no problem. Let's arrange this at my farm, near the Glongo whose right ear is larger than his hoof. Goodbye."
It took until Pablo hung up that he realized what he had just set up. Someone who he barely remembers is coming to his farm, to ask for his aid in solving something he didn't know how to rectify. How in the world did she come up with the idea that he was skillful at ballet and chess? The only thing he was good at was milking a Glongo without making it angry. He wished he had declined.
From a distant mountain, Henry watched with a telescope as Pablo Ducklopod II paced nervously about his kitchen. Henry knew that Pablo would be a crucial asset for his future plan. The girl Luckie would also be very helpful. He knew that when he could amass a great enough group of unique individuals, all of their talents would mix together like several flavors of Mio in a glass of lukewarm water, so that he may finally succeed in finding the Bingus.
While Pablo trudged around in his house, Henry the Squirrel continued to scheme exactly how he would acquire the thing he longed for for many, many years. Luckie was already out the door of her home, and on her way to a place she was almost certain was Pablo's ranch.