CHAPTER 50
The Last Chapter
“I hear you're taking Greegs? How much for Six Moobs full?”
“We're not paying an orange proddle for anything,” said Rip, popping a handful of Kratwollian Mind Capsules into his mouth. “We take your Greegs, you have no more Greegs. That's the deal. Take it or leave it.”
“That's a horrible deal and not remotely what your flier advertised,” screamed the outraged Greeg vendor. “How am I supposed to afford the astronomical cost of replacing the Investment Banker it took just to get here?”
Rip snatched the flier out of the vendor's hands and passed it over to me. “We are not accountable for any falsities our marketing department might have mistakenly misinformed you of,” bellowed Rip condescendingly. “The deal stands, and space is running out.”
I looked at the flier, it was clearly a signed and dated, hand drawn, binding contract promising vast sums of wealth to anyone who brought Greegs to the Planetglomerate any time after the shattering of the Glassvexx system.
“Look,” Rip continued flippantly, “I don't know who's been out spreading these lies and rumours about our operation here, but...”
“I do! You have! You personally gave me this flier, and spent eleven years attending my carnival show every night convincing me to bring you these Greegs. You conceived four children with my eldest daughter. You..."
“Look, this isn't about me, this is about you and how you can't afford to fill up your spaceship. As it so happens, I'm a generous man, err... thing, and I can tell that you're a man who knows Greegs and needs a job. It just so happens we have many fine openings for positions ranging from Greeg feces shovelers, to Greeg feces examiners.”
“You bastard! What about my ship!”
“Your ship will be placed in a maze shortly... if you wish to accompany it, by all means...”
“I'll take the shovel one.”
“Good man, welcome aboard. Unload your Greegs over to the left.”
The ingenuity of Dr. Rip T. Brash the Third was undeniable. Whether he had purposefully, consciously or deliberately had everything come together in his favour or whether he was simply one of the luckiest creatures to ever live, I will never know. His Planetary Greeg Carnival was indeed a resounding success though, with a steady supply of enslaved workers bringing him new and exciting Greegs and their ships being sent off to far-off mazes, serving as a bribe to the Council of Eleven and a Half Thousand Different Coloured Robes. It was a scheme no one else could have pulled off. Trading knowledge for morality, Wilx was able to learn ever more about Greegs by observing The Ultimate Grand Greeg Carnival. So much so that his well researched and engaging book Greegs, Greegs and More Greegs would topple Dr. Kipple's as the definitive work on the subject. Many strange discoveries would come from observing The Ultimate Grand Greeg Carnival and the ensuing experiments Wilx would conduct. For example, once aliens began coming on safari expeditions to observe The Greegs in their natural habitat, it was conclusively proven that even when blatantly staring at hoards of superior beings, The Greegs would still somehow convince themselves they were alone, intellectually dominant and that anyone who thought otherwise was insane.
One curious event occurred on the day The Virgin Mary returned to demand child support from Rip.
“I demand child support,” she screamed.
“I thought your son was the one who was supposed to return?” asked Rip.
“He had a rough enough go of things the first time around, now give me some money!”
“Your entire species is obsolete silly woman, as is your outdated currency. Quit living in the past. Look what you silly humans de-evolved into!” Rip pointed at the savage Greegs nearby.
The Virgin Mary wept.
“Don't cry my dear, come into the tent and we'll have a look at your belly button.”
It was around this time that I realized I couldn't be around Rip and Wilx any longer. Surely if I was to stick around I would only become more and more like them. I would begin to think nothing of grotesque and obscene actions such as they felt were acceptable. I decided to get out while I still had a shred of dignity, of sanity, of morality, of decency left in me. I was immortal, this there was no changing. But I saw no reason why I had to be a bastard too. I commandeered the ship capable of impossible things, and set about doing some good with it. If for no one else but me.
I tried travelling sideways and diagonally through time many times hoping the Universe would shift things around differently. Hoping there was a Universe out there in which people never became Greegs. An existence where Klaxworms came out of their caves and were rewarded for their courage instead of instantly annihilated. A way that the incredibly unique planet that Jorf had unwillingly created wasn't overrun with Investment Bankers and eventually Greegs. Every time the outcome was the same.
So I tried one last thing. I retraced my steps and filled in the gaps of my little story as best I could. Made sure I got everything right. Translated everything correctly. Made it all able to be understood by you. By a human being. I figure that maybe, just maybe, by bringing this information to Earth, the seemingly inevitable future of this planet is not so bleak. Is not so inevitable. By dropping off this story, at this time in your history, maybe you can be made to understand just what you are. Just where you're going. Just what this place is. Just what it could be. Just what you're doing... and what you could be doing instead. We know that one Greeg can be transformed into a decent being. We know that one little fruit fly can take on a whole planet full of filth and nonsense. But can a whole planet of beings stop themselves from de-evolving into Greegs?
Maybe.