The Daryl Chronicles: Episode 4

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[media-credit id=7 align="aligncenter" width="224"][/media-credit]Episode 4

Daryl’s turn.

“Sheesh, these guys don’t give up.” Daryl sat back on his couch and put his feet up. An ottoman grew under his feet, and Daryl grabbed his mug.

“Computer, tell me how we get the Nutters to release our ship.” In an instant the computer responded with “You should use the ‘got fleas?’ protocol Daryl.” Daryl thought for a second then replied, “Yeah, OK, do that.” He then took a big gulp from his cup, and the lights flickered for a moment.

Old Rusty started to shake, and the Nutters started to itch. The PH1000 had sent the equivalent of 1,234,789 microscopic nanofleas scurrying up the cable that was attached to the claw, and they were fast. The Nuttian pirates were now getting a little surprise. Daryl looked over at Chester, “How long do you think it will take?” Chester looked up at Daryl with his cat like face and said “Can we go home now?” Then he went back to licking his paw.

People were going berserk over in the Nuttian ship. Clothes were being discarded, and naked Nuttians were slapping their bodies to try and stop the relentless little bites they were getting from the nanofleas.

Slap! “Captain Lakley! Make this stop! Get us out of here!”

“I can’t, I can’t Grand Mogas! Our systems are failing!” Little arcs and sparks could be seen coming from every control panel, the nanofleas were not only biting the crew, but they were also biting anything that had electricity flowing through it.

“Ah! Sever that cable going to the alien ship! Make this stop, AAAaaaah!”

Captain Lackly made his way through the ship, slapping and scratching his bare body as he watched his out of control crew trying to make the heinous irritation stop. With the smell of ozone from the electric motors and perspiration filling the air, he finally made it to the room with the winch system. It took a few seconds for Lackly to locate the red emergency release lever. It was a safety system that would eject the winch and claw assembly in case it got stuck for some reason. They weren’t stuck, but this was an emergency. Lackly grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled. “AAArrg, Umph, come on!” Then SNAP! The assembly broke away from the ship. The claw and cable assembly were still attached to the bumper of old Rusty. But Daryl was no longer tied to the Nuttians.

Daryl thought he heard faint voices screaming inside of the Nuttian ship. But we all know that you can’t hear Nutters screaming in space.

Daryl sat there for a moment trying to wrap his brain around what had just happened, he was so looking forward to going home. With a sigh he calmly told the PH1000 to bring them home. As the ship left the scene of the party Daryl instructed the computer to signal the nanofleas to self-destruct in five minutes. He didn’t really want to harm the Nuttians, he just wanted them to leave him alone, and he wanted to make sure that they wouldn’t be following him home. He took another big gulp from his cup and thought to himself “what a bunch primates,” as he scratched an itch that was bothering him. Just the thought of those nanofleas biting the Nuttians made him itch all over. He was really hoping for a rescue from this planet filled with ridiculous apes, but it wasn’t in the cards.

Daryl had tomatoes to water, and jobs to take care of. This little excursion wasted his time, and he wasn’t happy. But he knew now that the Nuttians knew who he was, and he was sure this wasn’t the last he would hear from them. So he needed to make sure he was prepared for any other visits. It was going to be a long day.

Daryl started thinking of some uses for the claw that was stuck to his bumper. He thought it would make an excellent addition to his inventory of interesting things. If all else failed, it was worth a few dollars at the metal recycling center.

When he landed in Eugene he had to work quickly with tools that he had in the back of his van. The claw needed to be removed from his bumper before anyone saw it. Luckily he had a levitation plate of his own design, and a winch to get the heavy mechanism into the back of his van. It was a tight fit but with some quick work he was able to squeeze it in.

As he drove down his street he noticed something new. Fred, the old man that lived next to him had new guests. In the middle of the night a very beat up old trailer was parked catawampus in front of Fred’s house. This thing looked sad, rusty, and a big chunk of plywood was covering a hole where one of the windows should have been. Daryl was beat and didn’t give it a lot of attention while he backed old rusty into the driveway.

Daryl picked up Chester and entered his house. The security system had been set before he left and nothing had set it off. He dropped Chester on his sofa as he headed to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. As he approached the sink he stopped to look at his reflection in the mirror. His pudgy 40 something pale face looked tired. He had beard stubble, and his wavy brown hair was going in every conceivable direction. On Sogdoria he would be considered a handsome man, but here on earth he would have a serious problem getting a date. But that was the last thing on his mind. All he could think of was going to sleep, and that’s what he did.

POP! Crack, Whizzzzzzzzz!

“What the… what’s going on?” Daryl was startled awake by the sound of little explosions, and the faint smell of sulpher. He glanced at his clock that told him it was 11:37 AM. “what’s that noise?” Daryl mumbled to himself.

Daryl dragged himself out of bed, putting his feet onto the floor and rubbing his eyes as he looked out of his upstairs window. Down below in the driveway to west there they were… hillbillies with fireworks.

The health of Daryl’s elderly neighbor Fred had started taking a turn for the worse, and apparently Fred’s cousins had driven from Arkansas with their trailer to help old Fred out. But at the moment they were in Fred’s driveway with a butane torch lighting up fireworks and drinking beer. They seemed to be tossing beer cans over into Daryl’s scrap metal pile. Daryl had told Fred to toss any scrap metal he may have into it, and it looked like Fred’s cousins got the word.

Daryl was more intrigued than anything; he hadn’t had much experience with hillbillies and this was interesting for about 23 seconds. Daryl shrugged and headed downstairs for coffee. Daryl’s coffee beans whirled, and the smell of brewing filled the air. Daryl thought about the claw that needed to be unloaded, and the work he needed to do in his underground workshop.

Meanwhile next door… Fred’s relatives were having lunch at a picnic table in Fred’s backyard. Both of Fred’s cousins looked as if they could have been part of the iconic band ZZ Top. The had long scraggly beards, ratty overalls, and unkempt hair.

Fred’s cousin Floyd finished off his can of beer. “Fred, what do you know about that man that lives next door to you? From what I can see he ain’t exactly normal. He’s got weird stuff on his house, he might be a cop or sumpfin. We aint gunna let some cop ruin our plans for rais’in fighten squirrels, are we?”

Fred made a squinted face and replied “I dunno Floyd, I don’t think he’s a cop. Yeah, he’s crazier than a soup sandwich, but I don’t think he’s gunna cause us any pain. What do you think Hoss?”

Hoss looked into the can he had been spitting chew into “Well, I think we should go over and get a look when he ain’t around, that’s what I think. That way we know if he’s a problem er not.”

Floyd and Fred looked at each other, and in unison said “Why the hell not?”

Hoss nodded. “Then it’s settled. Floyd and I will go and snoop first chance we get, then we’ll know what’s going on.”

Stay tuned next time for Daryl gets found out.

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Dan LaFollette (32 Posts)

I would describe myself as a father first, and married to a wonderfully supportive spouse that works her butt off for the family. I'm also a writer, techno nerd, and humorist. I always have more things to do than I have time to do them, and have many interests. View My Profile

As far as my writing goes I consider myself an observer of human nature, and a lifelong writing student.