As the Cantina turns - Independence Day
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As the Cantina turns - Independence Day
Ali put down her tea mug on the bar and looked up as Pthom shuffled in the door,
“What's up Pthom? You look a little green around the gills,” she said.
“I don't know, it's like every time I walk in here I feel lethargic. I've just got no energy left. One for me and one for him please,” Pthom flicked a thumb at the parrot, which was sat on a perch at the end of the bar cracking open the shell of fresh roasted treat, before collapsing on a pile of Smibbles.
“One vomiting zombie for the gentleman and one spring water, slightly chilled, for the bird,” said Ali, lighting the firework in Pthom's drink before fetching the water jug to refill the parrot's dish.
An hour or so later Pthom was looking worse and Ali had insisted he lay himself down on a couch while she sent for help.
“I think I can cure this,” said Sian, as she peered into her medical microscope.
“What's he got?” asked Ali.
“Parasites – ticks to be precise,” said Sian, “I'm certain of it.”
“How did I get them?” asked Pthom, raising himself on the pile of smibbles.
“From the parrot,” said Sian.
“You mean he's got Polly ticks?” said TJ, several cantinas giggled.
“Yes, but only a few,” said Sian,”most of them are on the parrot. I have some equipment here somewhere,” Sian rummaged in her medical kit.
The news spread around the cantina and everyone became involved.
“If it's the parrot, then let's get rid of it,” said Ken, “Set it free or something,”
“No, you can't give the bird the bird,” said Raven, “It's just not right.”
“Who put you in charge? This isn't a dictatorship,” said Junely.
“Let's take a vote on it then,” said Raven.
“It's not a democracy either,” said Pthom, “These are my ticks.”
“More like an adhocracy to me,” said Hillz, “I swear, we just make it up every time.”
“I think it should be a kritocracy like 'SYW' is,” said Kricket.
“I always like the idea of a plutocracy,” said Suzanne.
“At least he's funnier than Mickey, but he's not exactly old Scrooge McDuck, now he was funny,” said Bos.
“So what are we then, a band society?” said 10s, “can anyone play an instrument?”
“Triangle on a good day,” said Eye, demonstrating.
“Shame it's not a guitar, we could have a stratocracy,” said Ali
“Oh. Ha. Ha.” said 10s.
“Given the way we talk about food perhaps it should be a nomarchy,” said BigWords who was munching on a deep fried smibble.
“For goodness sake, can we get back to the problem please? What do we do about these ticks?” said Gina.
“Found them,” said Sian, pulling a set of crowbars from the kitbag, “Tick tweezers. We can pull them off, one at a time.”
“Wouldn’t duct tape be faster?” asked Gina, “You know, strip him, wind him up like a mummy, and then spin to win. All the ticks gone at once, problem solved.”
“You can’t do that,” said Pthom, ”Think about my chest hair.”
“We are,” said Suzanne, “And your legs need waxing too.”
“We are only trying to help,” said TJ, who was trying to remove Pthom’s eyebrows with a pair of tweezers.
“Leave me alone, just leave me alone,” said Pthom, backing away furiously into the pile of smibbles, “You people are all anarchists.”
“You know I don't think he deserves to have them removed,” said Junely.
“I agree, this isn’t a meritocracy you know,” said Angel, "you just need to have faith,"
"I'm not sure I believe in theocracy," said Pthom.
“So if we can’t use the tweezers, how do we get rid of them?” Sian asked Fen, who had been studying a large book for several minutes while the conversation had carried on around her. Fen closed War and Peace and picked up her phone,
“According to my associates in the medical profession,” she waved the phone, “there's no cure, he'll have to go to parasite and carrier extermination.”
“What?” said Pthom.
“We'll have to shoot him,” said Fen.
“Come on, be mature about this, show a little moderation, there's only a few of them. You don't need to shoot me for that,” said Pthom.
“How about we shoot him just a little bit?” said Angel.
“You're not shooting him, you'll ruin my tie,” said Cobra,“ Do you know the cost of these shells?”
Pthom shivered, “I'm getting cold,” he said.
“Here,” said Gina, “Have my pocket sized smibble handwarmer.”
“Thanks,” said Pthom rubbing his hands on the smibble. There was a small pop and a thin wispy cartoon figure carrying a baseball bat and an instruction manual appeared,
“What are you?” asked Pthom.
“I'm the genie and you have two wishes,” said the genie.
“I thought it was three,” said Pthom.
“Hey. I'm in charge here. Don't argue with a geniocracy. It's two wishes. Now what do you want? And hurry it up, I was in the middle of something,” the genie said over the top of the instruction manual.
“I'd like these ticks removed from me and the parrot please,”
“Done. And the other one?” said the genie, pointing the baseball bat at the parrot like a pistol and pretending to shoot “Pow!”
“Ah, no. I think appropriate moderation is called for. I'll leave it thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” said the genie and there was another pop as it disappeared.
“Phew, Polly tick free at last,” said Pthom.
“I'll vote for that,” said Ali, pouring a round of tea for everyone.
