~~BRAINWAVES FROM YARN~~
Oh, how the plot does deliciously thicken. Izzian could never have imagined being stuck on earth for the rest of his life. He was also confused by Enot not trusting Gala. She always seemed to be on Izzian's side and therefore vicariously on Enot's side. They were a team, after all, but strange things had been happening in the universe and Enot was skittish about anything unusual at the moment.
It seems that Enot cannot contact anyone outside of earth. You see, any Klesian stationed on another planet for a Goodwill Project sends all messages directly to Klesia. Klesia is the hub of all incoming and outgoing messages. Even if Enot wanted to send a Freemail all the way to The Lagrinia System, his words would go to Klesia first. Then the Freemail would be sent onto whichever Lagrinian planet it was meant for.
That way, all interstellar communiques are checked. Seems a little cloak and dagger-ish to me, but it prevents someone from trying to plot against Klesia. Enot simply lacks the tools to send deeper signals into outer space.
I suppose Leon could help, but that's another story all together. But first, let's talk about Signal and Muriel Minor, Spokespeople for the Fester Tail Tribe of SpacePod Yarn.
It seems I have formally given my permission and invited a Fester Tail Tribe to inhabit my SpacePod. Apparently, writing a letter constitutes communication and I have been tricked into communicating with the Fester Tail tribe. And as everyone knows, once you communicate with a Fester Tail Tribe, they'll never leave, until they are good and ready.
Remembering the aggravation of scuttling through the skies trying to avoid the infestation and seeing how I was tricked into the invitation, I was quite taken aback when I eventually met the little people. It was, I must admit, a pleasant surprise.
They are a fascinating people; obviously fun-loving and intelligent, those Fester Tails. If anyone should infest Leon, I am glad it's them.
I couldn't have asked for a more industrious tribe of Festers, either. Everywhere I look, my SpacePod is clean. The little folk have dusted every nook and every cranny on this ship and it behooves me to think it's all due to the Fester Tail Tribe of SpacePod Yarn. Trust me when I say that Leon despises cleaning, or any other sort of chore he considers menial, and I haven't dusted in years. That leaves only the Fester Tails.
I have met the tribe's master mechanic and he has sworn his fealty to me, Lady Yarn they call me. That little Fester Tail goes by the name Hulla Baloo and he is fast becoming my bestie. Each night as I sleep, Hulla Baloo erases my wrinkles, and I have oh so many of those.
He waits for me to fall asleep and he gently applies tiny clamping devices all over my prune-like face. Hulla spreads apart the wrinkles and massages some Fester Tail organic wrinkle cream into each crevice. I awaken in the morning looking younger than I have in years!
Hulla is slightly egotistical regarding his tribe and his people, but I can't blame him for that. He swore vengeance on Leon because Leon told Hulla he was, "…a pint-sized punk, tinkering around in the bowels of the ship, wreaking pint-sized havoc." I sure hope Leon and the Fester Tails come to some sort of an understanding.
Leon is jealous. All of my appliances are working better than they ever have and I swear that my ship is even running faster, no thanks to Leon. I have a feeling my SpacePod is not happy about having his body colonized by the little people, and his childish antics are not appreciated. He's ignoring me and refuses to follow even the simplest commands.
Last night, I told Leon to transmit a signal to Klesia Moon Prime. His only job was to continuously transmit that signal, try to communicate with any other ships in the vicinity, and scope around Klesia looking for any abnormalities.
Leon refused. I'll let him pout for a little while, but eventually he'll have to get over it. This is no time to be a baby because Izzian needs his help! I've told Leon that a Compassionate Citizen of the Universe would take action and overlook any jealousy toward the Fester Tail tribe, but he doesn't seem to care.
Without Leon's cooperation, we have no chance of helping Izzian and Enot figure out what has happened with Klesia and the Moon Prime. Muriel and I have had several deep conversations and we both agree that if Leon doesn't stop sulking about, we may have to manually override his IBS, his Internal Brain System- not to be confused with a certain identically abbreviated malady on earth. Leon would never forgive me for that, but these may be dire circumstances.
Signal, Muriel's husband, has also shown himself to be quite logical in his summations. They have both convinced me that eventually I need to make a voyage to earth; If only to stop the evil snow cone man from rotting out the kids' teeth. Who would have thought that the Fester Tails would be so weird about dental hygiene?
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CHAPTER 20