Rumbles

Walking through the wall was a remarkably soothing experience. Cool wall-wisps caressed their smooth bodies, while soft sounds and exotic scents wafted around them. Helga thought she recognised a hot chocolate fudge sundae drift gently by.

Kevin imagined that wall-walking must be similar to walking through a cloud. Not that he had had any experience of cloud-walking either. Somehow it didn’t seem to be included in the normal daily routine of a long-distance lorry driver.

Suddenly the wall melted and the humans emerged into a bright, sunlit mosaic of sights and sounds. In the distance, Thrumm stood talking to one of the cowgirls.

‘Oh, there you are,’ Thrumm called over. ‘Thought I had been lucky enough to lose you.’

The humans gazed around in stunned amazement at the disjointed and illogical view that surrounded them. Everywhere they looked they saw a different scene. Countryside melted into cityscapes, which in turn changed into seaside.

‘I expect you find this rather unusual,’ said Thrumm, putting on one of his ‘Aren’t I A Superior Being’ airs.

‘Why should you think that?’ said James, who by now was beginning to get the hang of nothing making sense and also becoming increasingly fed up with being constantly put down by a Guernsey cow. ‘It all seems perfectly logical to me.’

James snuck a second sideways glance at Helga’s curvaceous torso.

‘And what’s more, Thrumm,’ continued James, ‘do you seriously intend us to walk around for ever stark naked like technicolour savages? I really don’t think it is right. I mean, we have hardly been introduced to each other.’

Thrumm looked downcast, obviously disappointed by the lack of impact that finally being allowed into the Mallogg central area was having on the Humans.

‘Let me ask you something,’ he said. ‘How do you think I feel wandering about got up as a transvestite bull? I mean, do you think I am experiencing a deep feeling of inner satisfaction, walking around on all fours with an udder which makes That One Over There look like a shrivelled pixie?’ Thrumm continued, waving a hoof at Helga, who folded her arms across her anything but shrivelled chest and glared back at him.

‘It’s all very well for you to bellyache about losing your clothes and being colour coordinated,’ continued Thrumm, warming to the topic. ‘Here am I, “Thrumm The Elector” – give or take a few technicalities – one of the highest forms of development known in this Universe, prancing around dressed up as a bloody cow. I mean, talk about a comedown. God, I think I am going to throw up.’

Thrumm plodded dejectedly around a field, making small ruminating noises and wondering how life could possibly be worse.

‘But at least you’ve got zee fur on… unt know vere you are… unt vot you are dooink zere unt… unt… you is not ’ungric,’ said Helga, the last bit slipping out almost by accident.

‘Oh no!’ groaned Thrumm. ‘Bloody SWOPP was right. Now we have to pay the penalty for only increasing your sleep rate and not dealing with food at the same time, when you were being detoxified. Frankly, at the time SWOPP was telling me about this food thing, I couldn’t believe that even a semi-intelligent life form like Humans could be so incredibly inefficient. But, wonder of wonders, SWOPP seems to have been right for once. Mind you, it’s about time it got something vaguely in the direction of not being totally incorrect.’

Thrumm sat down feeling morose. ‘Anyway, I suppose you will be pleased to know that in order to cater for this contingency, the ever wonderful SWOPP made an intensive ten-millisecond analysis of a cross-section of the food items most frequently mentioned in all Earth-originated advertising for as far back as it had on record. SWOPP then put together a fuel intake package based on its findings. I guess now is the time when this will come in useful.’

The humans began to feel that at last something not completely horrible might be about to happen to them. Thrumm looked grumpy and beamed a Want Ray. After a short wait, the cowgirls appeared with five covered trays.

‘All right, never say I don’t give you anything,’ said Thrumm. ‘Fresh from SWOPP’s immense databanks we have the energy input package you should all be drooling over. Let them at it!’ Thrumm commanded.

The cowgirls placed the five trays down on an adjacent table and the famished humans lent over the trays in anticipation of eating their first meal in Heaven knows how long. The cowgirls removed the covers with a flourish to reveal a pint of Heineken lager, a Wintersun brochure, a packet of Marlboro and Barbie’s Ken.

The humans looked at the contents of the trays in amazement.

‘What the ’ell’s… ouch!’ started Kevin, before being kicked in the shin by James.

Meanwhile, Thrumm settled down in position twenty-seven with a satisfied look on his face, interested in getting first-hand experience of Humans energising.