It seemed like nothing on the menu had an appropriate amount of sugar on or in it for his sweet-tooth and as Boy In A Dress
-disguised to look like someone called 'Aura Rhanes', fumbled his way through the Diner's list, he did it with weary resolve
anyway.
Resisting the need to pull the beret from his head, he focused on treating the individual meals to a stern negative and a harsh
tapping of a red-nailed finger.
"Nope" BIAD murmured as the man standing at their booth kept on asking his questions and the Man-Girl hidden behind the
sunglasses consented with Tibbs' command that it should be the Vithian who did all the talking.
"So you don't remember me?" Truman Bethurum asked again.
The smaller man with the assumed space-travelling beauty held up a hand and offered an expression to the bald man in the
mechanic's overalls that indicated he did understand Truman's concerns, but they were important enough that his queries
should be asked quietly.
Eagerly, Bethurum immediately sat down and grinned his inquisitiveness across the Formica-covered table.
Tibbs' trusty-handset had revealed Truman's initial encounter on a hill with the true Aura Rhanes and her alleged cohorts,
and now the little man in the brown robes put the details to use. One of them being that he must speak in rhyme.
"We were hoping that you can help our planet in a way, a cause that could help to save our day.
For Aura is in a quandary and is dealing with something she doesn't wish to tarry on,
Her heart is heavy with galactic worries and she knows you will help her home of Clarion."
Somewhere in the back of Tibbs' mind, he could hear his wife and the Vandalian -in the desolate alleyway outside, laughing
their asses off at his poor poetry. But to the Vithian's astonishment, Truman Bethurum just grinned wider.
"I knew I was right!" he exclaimed and then looked around to see if he'd recklessly alerted the Earthlings that his friends were
back. Marion -the only waitress working this late hour, carried on rearranging the milkshake glasses on the shelf behind the bar.
Tibbs slowly took off his own sun-shades and nodded his empathy to their man-in-the-know, the only difference was their
respective agendas. Bethurum thought he was dealing with a anti-war community of space-travellers from a hidden planet,
Tibbs knew he was dealing with a loony who held some vital information.
BIAD just knew syrup-laden pancakes wouldn't cut it.
"Do you recall what Aura relayed about her quest...? A journey of change that burdens her breast.
You are the polestar that can change the cosmos forever, And be renown in assisting her endeavour."
With a boob-wobbling nudge to the Man-Girl beside him, Tibbs brought Boy In A Dress into the confusing interview. Truman's
fixation was on Aura Rhanes, her sexuality and her assumed leadership qualities on a flying saucer. Such a based focus can
bring jewels from a difficult mine and as long as BIAD kept his mouth shut, Tibbs was sure he could nurse the answers he'd
need from the man across from him.
BIAD looked up from the laminated menu and surveyed the grease-smudged face of the man looking at his chest. The black
coat had been left open at Tibbs' bidding and now the wide-eyed Truman Bethurum was inspecting its contents. "Hello" BIAD
said cheerfully.
Truman's eyebrows wiggled their semaphore-like greeting back at the spaceship Captain he'd fallen in love with.
"I'm thinking of taking you to Clarion, my home among the stars,
But my memory has been effected, my dreams are locked with bars..."
As Boy In A Dress began his unwanted speech, Tibbs' mouth dropped.
It had been reported by a group of survivors from Mallsom, that Ba'al had mentioned a female called Aura Rhanes on
numerous occasions. Mallsom was a world that existed in a reality where sound was the major fuel of propulsion and held
whole solar-systems comprised of a material that resembled what we would call maple-syrup.
According to the records, this took place millions of earth years ago and from Tibbs' deep research, it was believed that the
black-haired vixen had endeared herself to the Mainyu leader with her quiet demeanour.
Now here's a Rhanes-forgery mouthing off to a crazy mechanic.
"...When we spoke at our first meeting, our star-souls seemed to fit. If you help me to remember, I'll let you grope my..."
Tibbs interrupted the red-lipped anomaly from his lewd prose with a coughing-fit and once more, held up a small hand to excuse
himself during his respiratory-struggle. "I am sorry..." the Vithian rasped, "...your atmosphere is different to ours" and wondered if
should make his apology rhyme.
BIAD went back to contemplating banana-cream pie as a possible saccharine-candidate.
Tibbs leaned closer to Truman and moving the a wooden condiment box to one side, continued the unbelievable charade.
"My lady is distraught and knows that you can assist, Clarion hangs on your every world to help us through this mist.
Now in our moment of need, will you recall our last affair, something Aura told you to take us from our despair"
The waitress watching at the counter wondered if she should see if the pair of weirdos sitting with Truman wanted to order anything.
Glendale Junction's only diner was never the busy -even during the day, but in the dead hours of midweek, any customer was a
godsend in a place where the residents of Clark County were moving away.
Marion decided to give it another minute.
"I... I can't speak the way you do..." Truman whispered at the bearded alien from behind the moon. "...But Aura told me that she was
here to speak to someone called Howard Robertson about living here, but I told her I would give permission and she could live with me"
With a slight turning of the head, Truman began his eyebrow-wiggling again at the raven-haired beauty with the commendable rack.
Boy In A Dress was now perusing the milkshake index on the reverse-side of the menu and in his view, it wasn't look good.
Tibbs touched Bethurum's deeply-tanned hand and brought his attention back to his recollections, "And who is this Robertson-character?"
he asked in hushed tones. Truman looked back towards the small man and his gaze showed that his informative thoughts were not quite
here yet. "She said he was going to hold a panel, a meeting to talk about her people coming here" Truman said ruefully and smiled sadly
at Aura's companion.
Tibbs soaked in the sparse tidings from the man in the overalls and off-handedly, thanked Bethurum without the need to use a doggerel.
This crusade wasn't going anywhere and Tibbs' assumption that Truman Bethurum held a key to the slow takeover of this universe had
panned out with little hints to which direction to go next.
"But like I told Aura, her choice for living on a Greek island or living me, well... there's just no contest. She'll not want for anything here
with me in Glendale" Truman said whistfully and glanced over his shoulder at his cold apple pie. He should've brought it with him.
TIbbs' puzzled brow demanded that whatever the lust-crazy fool across from him was saying, it should be better explained.
"Island?" Tibbs asked softly.
Maybe Marion would get him a new slice and a coffee, Truman thought as he absently answered "Yeah, Fair Salami -or somewhere...
something like that". The waitress in question was now leaning on the counter watching them.
"You mean Salamis?" Tibbs pressed and unconsciously felt for his handset, but the device remained in his pocket.
Bethurum nodded and then looked back at the apple-of-his-eye, Aura Boy-In-A-Dress Rhanes. "Yeah, and she could dump that alien
called Slymington and move in with me" he added with a wink, a function that Tibbs' own eyes would never be able to produce due to
their position.
Open wide.
"Symington... you mean Aura said Symington?" the Vithian breathed towards the ignorant human with all the clues. This seemingly
unimportant comment had brought new life to the convoluted spiders-web of the Final Mainyu. Truman Bethurum nodded without
looking at Aura's escort and focused on his goal, the gal in the black beret.
"We could maybe take a trip down to Vegas at weekends and take in in a show..." Truman mused softly and accepted the dare to
touch Aura's resting hand on the weathered Formica surface. "...You know what they say about Vegas, what happens in..." he began,
but the adage was never fullfilled.
Boy In A Dress had failed. There wasn't one thing on the menu that would warrant equal-footing to cotton candy, not one.
"We marry with trust on Clarion and the way to show that faith is to smash two building-bricks together with the male's gonads in
between" BIAD murmured without looking up from where the menu suggested something called 'Deviled Eggs'.
This planet was doomed -he thought and lost interest.
Truman Bethurum left to retrieve his apple pie and senses after his girlfriend's latest reveal. Approaching the tepid dessert and cold
coffee, he pondered on the such universal challenges regarding the pain of matrimony on other worlds and why his testicles were
tingling right now.
Still, Aura was all-woman and he was sure he could talk his way out of the bruising-part.
Turning with pie-in-hand, Truman looked at the empty booth of the All-Nite Diner and saw that it was empty. Aura Rhanes had left him.
Again.
...................................
Tibbs pulled his flowing beard from its confines of his robe and with narrowed eyes, looked at the unconcious and bleeding men slumped
in the back of the pick-up truck. "I leave him alone for five minutes..." he grumbled to himself and ignored the lop-sided grin of the abuser.
Climbing into the squatting time-machine, Tibbs realised that if forgiveness was a commodity of value, when it came to Boy In A Dress
and Ninurta, he'd be skint within a week.
"Come on, we have a lead and we've got to get back to Forrestal" he said turning the dial that produced the necessary covfefe needed to
traverse space-time. The door closed and the spine-covered craft popped out of existence as Truman Bethurum stuck his head out of the
coffee-shop's rear-entrance.
Apart from his tired co-workers sleeping it off in the back of his truck, the alleyway was quiet. Truman sighed and returned to explain to
Marion how his important role in the galactic policy of peace sometimes involved clandestine meetings in out-of-the-way places.
Tibbs watched the thirty-seven-second journey take place and in that time, told the three individuals aboard that they had to rescue James
Forrestal from being murdered. BIAD had finished disrobing himself from his Rhanes-disguise and surprisingly to their pilot, asked about
the Greek island.
"Fair Salamis is from a poem used when..." Tibbs began and then curtailed that section of the explanation. The cruel brain-washing schemes
of the Earth's Governments were not at issue right now, saving Forrestal and kidnapping Stuart Symington was.
"It's a trigger-expression that's part of a sequence of words, it can cause a subject to be psychologically malleable to suggestion" the Vithian
offered instead.
"And Stymington...?" BIAD also asked absently as he folded the arms of the sunglasses and Tibbs' worried eyes became trapped in the
GunMan's surveillance. "I can't say for sure, but I think I know one of Ba'al's chess-pieces" he said and waited for the torrent of questions to
come.
-disguised to look like someone called 'Aura Rhanes', fumbled his way through the Diner's list, he did it with weary resolve
anyway.
Resisting the need to pull the beret from his head, he focused on treating the individual meals to a stern negative and a harsh
tapping of a red-nailed finger.
"Nope" BIAD murmured as the man standing at their booth kept on asking his questions and the Man-Girl hidden behind the
sunglasses consented with Tibbs' command that it should be the Vithian who did all the talking.
"So you don't remember me?" Truman Bethurum asked again.
The smaller man with the assumed space-travelling beauty held up a hand and offered an expression to the bald man in the
mechanic's overalls that indicated he did understand Truman's concerns, but they were important enough that his queries
should be asked quietly.
Eagerly, Bethurum immediately sat down and grinned his inquisitiveness across the Formica-covered table.
Tibbs' trusty-handset had revealed Truman's initial encounter on a hill with the true Aura Rhanes and her alleged cohorts,
and now the little man in the brown robes put the details to use. One of them being that he must speak in rhyme.
"We were hoping that you can help our planet in a way, a cause that could help to save our day.
For Aura is in a quandary and is dealing with something she doesn't wish to tarry on,
Her heart is heavy with galactic worries and she knows you will help her home of Clarion."
Somewhere in the back of Tibbs' mind, he could hear his wife and the Vandalian -in the desolate alleyway outside, laughing
their asses off at his poor poetry. But to the Vithian's astonishment, Truman Bethurum just grinned wider.
"I knew I was right!" he exclaimed and then looked around to see if he'd recklessly alerted the Earthlings that his friends were
back. Marion -the only waitress working this late hour, carried on rearranging the milkshake glasses on the shelf behind the bar.
Tibbs slowly took off his own sun-shades and nodded his empathy to their man-in-the-know, the only difference was their
respective agendas. Bethurum thought he was dealing with a anti-war community of space-travellers from a hidden planet,
Tibbs knew he was dealing with a loony who held some vital information.
BIAD just knew syrup-laden pancakes wouldn't cut it.
"Do you recall what Aura relayed about her quest...? A journey of change that burdens her breast.
You are the polestar that can change the cosmos forever, And be renown in assisting her endeavour."
With a boob-wobbling nudge to the Man-Girl beside him, Tibbs brought Boy In A Dress into the confusing interview. Truman's
fixation was on Aura Rhanes, her sexuality and her assumed leadership qualities on a flying saucer. Such a based focus can
bring jewels from a difficult mine and as long as BIAD kept his mouth shut, Tibbs was sure he could nurse the answers he'd
need from the man across from him.
BIAD looked up from the laminated menu and surveyed the grease-smudged face of the man looking at his chest. The black
coat had been left open at Tibbs' bidding and now the wide-eyed Truman Bethurum was inspecting its contents. "Hello" BIAD
said cheerfully.
Truman's eyebrows wiggled their semaphore-like greeting back at the spaceship Captain he'd fallen in love with.
"I'm thinking of taking you to Clarion, my home among the stars,
But my memory has been effected, my dreams are locked with bars..."
As Boy In A Dress began his unwanted speech, Tibbs' mouth dropped.
It had been reported by a group of survivors from Mallsom, that Ba'al had mentioned a female called Aura Rhanes on
numerous occasions. Mallsom was a world that existed in a reality where sound was the major fuel of propulsion and held
whole solar-systems comprised of a material that resembled what we would call maple-syrup.
According to the records, this took place millions of earth years ago and from Tibbs' deep research, it was believed that the
black-haired vixen had endeared herself to the Mainyu leader with her quiet demeanour.
Now here's a Rhanes-forgery mouthing off to a crazy mechanic.
"...When we spoke at our first meeting, our star-souls seemed to fit. If you help me to remember, I'll let you grope my..."
Tibbs interrupted the red-lipped anomaly from his lewd prose with a coughing-fit and once more, held up a small hand to excuse
himself during his respiratory-struggle. "I am sorry..." the Vithian rasped, "...your atmosphere is different to ours" and wondered if
should make his apology rhyme.
BIAD went back to contemplating banana-cream pie as a possible saccharine-candidate.
Tibbs leaned closer to Truman and moving the a wooden condiment box to one side, continued the unbelievable charade.
"My lady is distraught and knows that you can assist, Clarion hangs on your every world to help us through this mist.
Now in our moment of need, will you recall our last affair, something Aura told you to take us from our despair"
The waitress watching at the counter wondered if she should see if the pair of weirdos sitting with Truman wanted to order anything.
Glendale Junction's only diner was never the busy -even during the day, but in the dead hours of midweek, any customer was a
godsend in a place where the residents of Clark County were moving away.
Marion decided to give it another minute.
"I... I can't speak the way you do..." Truman whispered at the bearded alien from behind the moon. "...But Aura told me that she was
here to speak to someone called Howard Robertson about living here, but I told her I would give permission and she could live with me"
With a slight turning of the head, Truman began his eyebrow-wiggling again at the raven-haired beauty with the commendable rack.
Boy In A Dress was now perusing the milkshake index on the reverse-side of the menu and in his view, it wasn't look good.
Tibbs touched Bethurum's deeply-tanned hand and brought his attention back to his recollections, "And who is this Robertson-character?"
he asked in hushed tones. Truman looked back towards the small man and his gaze showed that his informative thoughts were not quite
here yet. "She said he was going to hold a panel, a meeting to talk about her people coming here" Truman said ruefully and smiled sadly
at Aura's companion.
Tibbs soaked in the sparse tidings from the man in the overalls and off-handedly, thanked Bethurum without the need to use a doggerel.
This crusade wasn't going anywhere and Tibbs' assumption that Truman Bethurum held a key to the slow takeover of this universe had
panned out with little hints to which direction to go next.
"But like I told Aura, her choice for living on a Greek island or living me, well... there's just no contest. She'll not want for anything here
with me in Glendale" Truman said whistfully and glanced over his shoulder at his cold apple pie. He should've brought it with him.
TIbbs' puzzled brow demanded that whatever the lust-crazy fool across from him was saying, it should be better explained.
"Island?" Tibbs asked softly.
Maybe Marion would get him a new slice and a coffee, Truman thought as he absently answered "Yeah, Fair Salami -or somewhere...
something like that". The waitress in question was now leaning on the counter watching them.
"You mean Salamis?" Tibbs pressed and unconsciously felt for his handset, but the device remained in his pocket.
Bethurum nodded and then looked back at the apple-of-his-eye, Aura Boy-In-A-Dress Rhanes. "Yeah, and she could dump that alien
called Slymington and move in with me" he added with a wink, a function that Tibbs' own eyes would never be able to produce due to
their position.
Open wide.
"Symington... you mean Aura said Symington?" the Vithian breathed towards the ignorant human with all the clues. This seemingly
unimportant comment had brought new life to the convoluted spiders-web of the Final Mainyu. Truman Bethurum nodded without
looking at Aura's escort and focused on his goal, the gal in the black beret.
"We could maybe take a trip down to Vegas at weekends and take in in a show..." Truman mused softly and accepted the dare to
touch Aura's resting hand on the weathered Formica surface. "...You know what they say about Vegas, what happens in..." he began,
but the adage was never fullfilled.
Boy In A Dress had failed. There wasn't one thing on the menu that would warrant equal-footing to cotton candy, not one.
"We marry with trust on Clarion and the way to show that faith is to smash two building-bricks together with the male's gonads in
between" BIAD murmured without looking up from where the menu suggested something called 'Deviled Eggs'.
This planet was doomed -he thought and lost interest.
Truman Bethurum left to retrieve his apple pie and senses after his girlfriend's latest reveal. Approaching the tepid dessert and cold
coffee, he pondered on the such universal challenges regarding the pain of matrimony on other worlds and why his testicles were
tingling right now.
Still, Aura was all-woman and he was sure he could talk his way out of the bruising-part.
Turning with pie-in-hand, Truman looked at the empty booth of the All-Nite Diner and saw that it was empty. Aura Rhanes had left him.
Again.
...................................
Tibbs pulled his flowing beard from its confines of his robe and with narrowed eyes, looked at the unconcious and bleeding men slumped
in the back of the pick-up truck. "I leave him alone for five minutes..." he grumbled to himself and ignored the lop-sided grin of the abuser.
Climbing into the squatting time-machine, Tibbs realised that if forgiveness was a commodity of value, when it came to Boy In A Dress
and Ninurta, he'd be skint within a week.
"Come on, we have a lead and we've got to get back to Forrestal" he said turning the dial that produced the necessary covfefe needed to
traverse space-time. The door closed and the spine-covered craft popped out of existence as Truman Bethurum stuck his head out of the
coffee-shop's rear-entrance.
Apart from his tired co-workers sleeping it off in the back of his truck, the alleyway was quiet. Truman sighed and returned to explain to
Marion how his important role in the galactic policy of peace sometimes involved clandestine meetings in out-of-the-way places.
Tibbs watched the thirty-seven-second journey take place and in that time, told the three individuals aboard that they had to rescue James
Forrestal from being murdered. BIAD had finished disrobing himself from his Rhanes-disguise and surprisingly to their pilot, asked about
the Greek island.
"Fair Salamis is from a poem used when..." Tibbs began and then curtailed that section of the explanation. The cruel brain-washing schemes
of the Earth's Governments were not at issue right now, saving Forrestal and kidnapping Stuart Symington was.
"It's a trigger-expression that's part of a sequence of words, it can cause a subject to be psychologically malleable to suggestion" the Vithian
offered instead.
"And Stymington...?" BIAD also asked absently as he folded the arms of the sunglasses and Tibbs' worried eyes became trapped in the
GunMan's surveillance. "I can't say for sure, but I think I know one of Ba'al's chess-pieces" he said and waited for the torrent of questions to
come.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.