Strangetown: Chapter Twenty Three

Mar 10, 2008 00:25







Warnings: language, sexual situations

Chapter Twenty Three

Ripp Grunt stepped out of his bedroom, holding the phone to his ear. As he listened, he paced the length of the balcony, back and forth. It was early, but the wood already felt hot on the bottoms of his feet.



"So, you're all ready for finals?"

"Yeah, as ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Of course you're ready, Buck. You're a fucking genius. You could pass my finals." Buck paused long enough to form a bashful smile.



"You're not forgetting about today, are you Ripp?" Buck had told him about their appointment to meet with some military personnel on that day, but it had been over a week since he mentioned it. Buck fully expected Ripp to have forgotten it long ago.



"What? No, not at all! I'm not a fucking idiot, Buck!" Ripp protested, but then paused. "That's today?"

"You forgot."

"Yeah..."



"Well, you have until this afternoon. Once you get ready, you should go get Tank and grab a cab into town. And Ripp..." Buck paused. "You might want to give some thought to how you'll answer questions about Johnny."



"Questions about Johnny? Like what?" Ripp's heart seemed to stop beating for a second, until Buck continued.



"Just anything. I know they're keeping an eye on the Smith family, and they might grill us. We are pretty... connected to them. Just be ready."



"Oh." Ripp frowned. "Okay, Buck. I'll do that. See you soon."



"Bye, Ripp." Jill had been listening to the conversation from across the room, and as Buck hung up the phone, she got to her feet.

"I'm really not looking forward to this." Buck said.

"I overheard Mom saying something on the phone. I think we're under suspicion."

"Well, they're not getting any information out of me."



"Do you really think they'll grill you?"

"Well, I'm living with you, Jill... and there's Ripp's connection with Johnny. I know that they are making this seem like it's just about Dad, but I would be very surprised if the conversation did not turn to the Smith family at some point. They probably want to put the blame for that on your family." He let out a deep sigh. "God, why are they doing this?"

"Buck, we don't expect to be accepted. Not really. I'm not really surprised."

"Still... what harm are you causing anyone? It's so unfair."



"Just relax, Buck. You'll do fine." She kissed him and he felt better.

He did feel pretty confident about it, at least for his own part. Ripp, however, he was worried about, with his loose, sharp tongue. They'd be fine if he didn't get testy, or surly, or sulky. Or just generally rude. Buck was worried about Ripp, yes, but he was simply terrified about Tank. Would Tank cooperate with the military? And how much?



Ripp was thinking the same thing. If they asked Tank about Johnny, what would he say? Would he give them information about the Smiths? Would Tank do that? After living next door to them, and even sitting at their table, partaking of their hospitality? Why would he do that? Because he was Tank, that was why. He was basically the General all over again, and he held a grudge like nobody's business.

Tank hated Johnny. This was something that Ripp knew for a fact, and he couldn't let Tank do anything that would put Johnny in jeopardy. He couldn't let that happen. Ripp would have to talk to Tank. He would have to plead with his brother to think of the Smiths as the people that they were. They deserved to be protected, and the testimony of the Grunts might be a critical factor in insuring this protection.

Ophelia entered the room, taking little notice of Ripp on the couch, since his presence there was all too commonplace. She began picking up the books that were littered everywhere.



Ripp watched her move around the room, as he often did. Her beautiful, soft, shapely body, and its careful, deliberate movements. She was a creature of grace, and Ripp took grace wherever he could find it. He soaked it up. He needed every little bit of grace he could find in his life.

After his mother left, there was precious little of it left to go around. Those little things were easily taken for granted, until you were left in a big empty house with nothing but charmless men stomping around inside of it. There was absolutely nothing graceful about the Grunts. Well, most of them, anyway. At least Buck ended up with some small measure of grace, but even he wasn't immune to their baser tendencies.



Thinking of this, he lifted himself up off the couch, in an effort to look slightly more presentable.

Ophelia turned to see him peeling himself from the upholdstry where he so often resided. Sometimes it was hard not to imagine that Ripp was a lazy old dog, leaving hairs and perhaps an oily residue on the couch. It wasn't a very flattering thought, but it amused her. When Ripp proceeded to scratch behind his ear, she couldn't help but laugh.



"What's so funny?" He asked as she walked over to join him.

"Oh, nothing. Just thought of something that made me laugh." Ripp looked at her and smiled. He liked it when she laughed. He didn't say anything for a minute, and she sat down next to him.

"I have to go home today." Ripp said. "To be questioned by the military, about the General's disappearance. We have a meeting with a couple of officers at our house."



"Oh." She said. "Really? Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, but It's so fucking stupid, Phi. We don't know anything about what happened."

"It must be hard to have to relive it all..."



"I just think it's fucking stupid. That's all."

"Ripp..." She said. "You can talking to me about it, you know."



"I know."

"Really."

"Really, I know." She just looked at him.



"Look - I just don't want to talk about it. Is that so wrong? I just want to fucking forget about it. Talking about it is not going to do anything."

"Well..." She said. "You can talk to me anytime you want to."

"If I feel like it, I'll let you know." He said.

"Well, I'm always here."



"I suppose I should go get a shower. I need to look presentable for this, and I'm pretty rotten right now." He said. "I smell, don't I?"

"Well..."

"Be honest."

"Yeah, you kinda do."



"Is it really gross?" He leaned towards her, armpit exposed. "Really, really gross? Do you want to check to be sure? I think you'd better check it out for me."

"Ripp! NO!" She squealed, and pushed him away from her. "Keep that away from me! It's disgusting!"



"Oh, come on, Phi! It's lovely. You love it." He laughed, as he continued to hover his armpit dangerously close to her head. It was so much fun to get a reaction out of her, and it gave him an excuse to get close to her. To touch her.

"No. No, I do NOT!" She protested, but a small smile betrayed her amusement at the game. "Get a wash!"

Ripp continued to laugh to himself as he sauntered up the stairs. It occurred to him that he should go the extra mile to actually shave and break out something decent to wear. If anything was worth a good showing, this was it.



Ripp always felt the same way after he lathered up his face to shave it. He always thought of the same word: futility. The effort of shaving was like paddling upstream. What was the fucking point?



Well, the job did have a purpose today, at least, and this strengthened his resolve for the task ahead. Leaned forward, took a deep breath, and set himself to work with a steady hand.



He surveyed the results, and was fairly pleased by them. Yes sir, nice and smooth. That should last about five minutes, he thought, and it only cost him about a quart of blood. Not bad at all.

An act of futility, but sometimes a necessary one.



He stepped into the shower. As the water washed over him, his mind wandered back to Ophelia.







He struggled to keep his focus. He didn't have time to daydream.

After he had scrubbed himself raw, he stepped out of the shower and moved on to deciding what to wear. He just needed to change into something nice, then pull his hair back, and he was all set.



He didn't look like too much of a dicksmack, he figured, though if he met himself, he'd probably make fun of him behind his back. It should impress the military representatives, though, and that was what mattered. Well, they probably wouldn't fall in love with the ponytail, but that was as good as it was going to get, so they'd just have to fucking deal with it.

Ripp looked himself over once more, and then headed down into the living room again. He found Ophelia standing at the bottom of the stairs.







"Wow. What a difference." She gasped. "I barely recognized you."



"You look... really nice, Ripp."

It wasn't that she didn't realize that Ripp was an attractive man, but she was so familiar with him that she didn't take note of it all that much. Seeing him looking so different really brought that to her attention. He hardly seemed anything at all like the same guy who had just recently attempted to stuff her face into his stinky armpit.

Seeing her reaction brought a smile to his face. "Thanks, Phi."



"What the -"

Johnny entered the room and nearly hit the floor from shock. "Who are you, and what the hell have you done with Ripp?!"



"You like it?" Ripp laughed.

"Are you getting MARRIED today, or something?! What the hell is going on?"

"Well, I figured why not be fucking prepared, just in case..."

"Yeah, sure. I'll bet that's just what you were thinking. Always prepared for the ultimate commitment. You can't even commit to doing the dishes, and it only takes ten minutes. So what's the ocassion?"



"Well, I've got to go talk to some military officers today, about the General, so I figured that I'd put on a good show for them. You know, test out my acting chops. Be a big fucking ackkk-TOR!"

"Well, you're definitely in costume."

"I'd better get going, actually. Buck will be waiting for us. I have to go and grab Tank, and I'm running late. I'll bet that fucking dicksmack has worked himself into a fine fiery rage by now, so I should get over there before he explodes. You know what he's like."

"No kidding." Johnny rolled his eyes. "Well, good luck." Johnny didn't seem to realize that the meeting had anything to do with him, and Ripp wasn't going to worry him with it. He'd just take that luck and hope for the best.



Before long, Ripp was across campus, and approaching the Worthington residence. He rang the doorbell.



Frances opened the door.

"Ummm - hi..." He stumbled over the words in shock. Shock, and some embarrassment, at seeing Ripp again after the party, but he was also shocked that he looked so unusually neat. In a well-pressed shirt, no less. And wearing a belt. It was a lot to deal with.

"Hey, Frances. Is Tank here?"

"Errr, yeah... come inside. Come in, I mean. Come with me... Enter - Enter the house." He cringed at his embarrassing choice of words, but he was the only one who seemed to notice.

Tank heard Ripp's voice and came out from the kitchen, already scolding him, even before Ripp could see him. "It's about time you got here, Ripp. You're always at least twenty minutes late."



"Well, it takes me at least twenty minutes to beat off, alright?"

"What?"



"Oh, and I'm not sure if I remembered to wash my hands after." Ripp pushed his hand into Tank's face. "Does this smell like crotch to you?"

"Get that the fuck away from me, you asshole!" Ripp laughed as Tank screamed at him. "You have to be the most immature piece of shit -"



"You fucking ready to go or what?" Ripp cut in.

Tank gritted his teeth. He took a closer look at Ripp, and what he was wearing, and instantly felt the need to punch him in the face.

The fact that he didn't said a lot for how much their relationship had been improving. It was true that he wanted Ripp to clean up his act, but it was the context that bothered him. The fact that Ripp was willing to shave and tidy himself up for Johnny Smith's sake, but had never chosen to do so for their father, made Tank angry enough to chew through solid metal. Why was Johnny so goddamned special to his brother? It was like he did it just to spite him.



"So, let me guess... you got dressed up for your boyfriend?" Tank said as they went outside to wait for the cab.

Ripp just looked at him for a moment, willing him to die. "Fuck you."

"Nice comeback."



"I know the concept of friendship is pretty fucking new to you, Tank, but -"

"I just don't get why you insist on kissing his ugly green ass."

"Oh, you mean the one you attempted to kick?"

Tank stewed in his rage, staring straight ahead.



“You’re not going to say anything, are you?” Ripp looked at Tank, nervously.

“I’m going to tell them the truth.”

Ripp genuinely feared to know what Tank’s version of the truth looked like.



"Look, I already got this lecture from Buck, and I'm just going to do what I think is right anyway. If anything, you two should be taking advice from me, not the other way around."

They kept silent for the remainder of the cab drive home, and soon they were in the middle of questioning by the military.



"So, what do you know about the Smith family?"

"Not really all that much. They live here in Strangetown."

"Aren't you currently living with them?"



"Well... yes. They've been helping me out, since I'm here all alone. They're very nice like that."



"Who? No really... I don't even know who you're talking about..."

"So when I say the name, John Smith, that means nothing to you?"



"Well, it's probably the most common name in the world. That could be anyone."

"We have reports that you live with him."

"Oh, that guy... He usually goes by Johnny."

"So you do, in fact, live with him?"



"Yeah, I live with him, but I barely know him at all. It's just someone to help pay the rent."

"Really..."

"Yeah, really. I couldn't tell you all that much about him. He seems like a nice enough guy, though."



After they were finished with him, Ripp walked outside to get Tank.

"They're ready for you, Tank."





Tank turned to walk inside the house, and Ripp was nearly overcome by the impulse to dive for his legs and take him down before he had a chance to go in there. But he knew that he couldn't do that.

What good would it even do if he did? Tank would just flip it around to his advantage as he always did, and then continue on his way, leaving Ripp with the wind knocked out of him, and shaking sand out of his pockets and other orifices. It would be like tying himself to the railroad tracks, which he also felt like he would be willing to do, if it would insure that the Smiths would be safe. It wouldn't stop the train, but it might slow its progress. Or maybe even take it off the tracks.



"Tank." He said. "Please..."





Tank didn't turn around, and Ripp silently lowered himself to the ground, where he sat without saying another word.



Buck sat down next to Ripp and leaned into his side, resting his weight on him. In his soft, quiet voice, he reassured his brother.

"It will be okay."



"So, Mr. Grunt... what can you tell us about the Smith family?"



From the outside, it looked abandoned, but inside there was quite a bit of activity.



Erin Beaker moved about the house, busying herself with unpacking boxes of belongings, and moving in the new furniture as it arrived. She was also making lunch. A simple salad. Nothing fancy, but for her, it was a big accomplishment. Cooking had never been her strongest skill.



Erin was happy to be living in her childhood home again, despite the fact that nearly all traces of its history had been wiped out by the fire. She was the last remaining tie to the Beaker family, and she was grateful to have been given the opportunity to become heir to their fortune and historical home. It was the principle of the thing that mattered. It was her home and it was her right to be here, but it just wasn't the same. Everything was gone. Loki was gone.



And then there were the clones.

Circe probably thought that she was a fool for agreeing to do this. She thought that she had tricked her, but Erin had an idea that she was walking into something, though she hadn't been sure what. Circe thought that she was so clever, but Erin would show her. Erin wanted to take on what remained of Loki's research. If anyone did, it should be her. She hadn't expected that to entail looking after clones of his late test subject, but it wasn't so bad. At least they kept her company.



Erin felt so sorry for them. They didn't even have names. Just numbers.



No. 1 and No. 2 were pretty much identical in appearance, but not so much in personality. No. 1 was neat and exact.



No. 2 was a sloppy mess.



No. 3 was very unusual. Very pale, and very, very hungry. He wanted to eat all of the time.



No. 4 was a female, which was the most unusual thing of all. How could she be a clone of a man and be a woman? It was so bizarre.



She was nice, but Erin thought she was in desperate need of a makeover. They all were. She would see to it that they all got themselves some nice, normal clothes and some decent haircuts. And some real names too, eventually.

They were all pretty new to the world, so she'd have to offer them some suggestions. They had a pretty childlike level of comprehension, but she liked their simplicity. At least Erin didn't feel like they were talking over her head all of the time, like she did back with the girls.



They were pretty weird, there was no doubt, but Erin liked the clones. She had always wanted her own special group of friends, and they all took to her immediately as a sort of leader. She felt really needed and special.



They were nice. She didn't see anything wrong with wanting to be their friend. She knew that Circe would laugh at her, and think she was a fool, but she liked it there with them. She couldn't really tell anyone, though. That was unfortunate.

She wondered. How would she keep this from Ajay? What if he wanted to come visit her in her home? How would she explain how busy she was, all of a sudden?



Like most things, Erin pushed this from her mind. She would worry about it when she needed to.



She wanted to focus on the positive.

Piece by piece, her life was falling into place. She could design her world however she wanted it. Just as pink and cheery as she always dreamed it would be.



She was going to make the most of the situation. She wasn't going to let Circe think that she had gotten the best of her. Circe could go to hell. Erin was sick of that stone cold bitch, and now she could finally enjoy her home without that witch present.

With her move across town, Circe was at a comfortable distance. Erin didn't even know anything about the baby's delivery. That, she would like to have known more about, since she would be the child's Aunt, but Circe didn't inform her. Erin didn't know it, but her nephew had already been born.

It was on that very same day that Vali Beaker was brought into the world.



Circe had awoken from a nap, and had known immediately that the time had come.







With nobody around, she was free to make as much noise as she wanted. Her terrifying screams echoed through the house, expressing her deep rage as well as her pain.



And then, he was born.

He was perfect. A worthy successor to the Beaker name. He had Loki's blond hair and Circe's dark eyes. Eyes with a sharp and unwavering stare.





Circe was very pleased. A boy. A strong, purposeful male. She had no doubt that he would grow up to be every bit as successful as his father. Her dear, dear Loki.

He would be everything to her now. Together, they would carry on with Loki's goals, and see that the appropriate measures were taken against their enemies.

Vali was a fine, strong name. He would devour their enemies, she had no doubt.



Satisfied with the birth, she laid the baby in his crib.



"Rest, my darling... you have a long and productive life ahead of you."



"Thank god there's still some liquor back here. I could really use a nice stiff drink right about now." Ripp said as he mixed them up some drinks. "Here Buck - this'll put some hair on your chest."

Buck wasn't really in the habit of drinking from his father's stash, especially not so early in the evening, but he didn't hesitate to take one. He liked the idea of having a drink with Ripp. It made him feel older. Like they were all adults, who could take care of themselves, and then relaxed with a nice drink at the end of the day.



"Come on, Tank!" Ripp said. "You may as well have one, after all that."

Tank just stood there, looking tired. He hadn't said a whole lot after his conversation with the military representatives. He didn't say anything for a minute, but eventually, he turned and picked up a drink.



"So, I'm not sure what to do." Buck began. "We can't take possession of our inheritance unless Dad is declared legally dead, and that will take some time, unless proof is found."

"And he might not actually be dead." Tank said. They just looked at him.



"Well, it's true."

"I suppose you think it was the fucking aliens, do you, Tank?" Ripp snarled.

"Look - we don't know what it was, so why should we assume that he's dead?" Ripp gave him a look that expressed just how much of a fucking idiot he thought he was.

"Does it even fucking matter, Tank?"



Buck continued, ignoring them. "Well, the point is... all of the money, the house, everything, is just tied up until we know what's going on. I'm out on my own soon too, so I'm not dependent anymore, so they won't make any allowances for that. It's not like they'd do anything for me anyway."



"Well, no. Isn't it fucking assumed that we're looking after you?"

"More like I'm looking after him." Tank said. "You can't even look after yourself."

"Fuck you, Tank. I've looked after Buck better than you ever have." Ripp said. "Besides, he has his shit together better than either of us do. We're the ones that need Buck to fucking look after us."



"I have some scholarships coming my way." Buck said. "And I can get a job once I'm in college."

"You can have whatever I can spare from the band money." Ripp offered.

"I have some money put away, Buck. I can help you out." Tank said. "From my military job."

"From high school?!" Ripp asked. "How do you still have money left over from that?"



"I invested it."

"Oh. Really..."

"Didn't you?"

Ripp laughed. "That's a fucking joke, right? What little they actually paid me was basically spent before I even got the paycheck."

"You're completely hopeless." Tank declared. Ripp's face fell, which seemed like an unusual reaction to Tank. Then Ripp stepped forward and revealed what was actually on his mind.



"Tank," Ripp started, "Please tell me that you didn't say anything to the military about the Smiths."

Tank was silent.

"Tank?" Buck asked. "Did you say anything?"



Tank looked at his brothers. At their concerned, hopeful faces. He'd never fully understand it, but they cared about the Smiths as if they were their own family. Betraying the Smiths would be like betraying his own brothers, and despite everything that had happened between them, despite how he felt about the alien invasion, he didn't want to do anything to hurt his brothers. Not at all.

So, obviously, he hadn't said anything.



He closed his eyes and sighed. "No. I told them that I didn't know anything. I told them the Smiths weren't suspicious, and I think they believed me."

Ripp's face melted with relief, and Buck 's blossomed into a shy smile. Ripp grabbed Tank and hugged him.



"Oh, thank god, Tank!" He sobbed. "You have no idea..."

"Get a grip, Ripp." Tank said. "Don't be an idiot."



"Thank you, Tank." Buck said. "That means a lot to me... to us both."

"Well..." Tank said, and just shrugged.

"How about another round of drinks?" Ripp asked, and they both nodded in agreement. They passed away a couple of hours until it was dark.



"Man, I've missed these little things." Ripp tapped the glass of the fish tank. "Hey there, you guys! Remember me? How's it going?"



"Hey, guess who I have here? That's right - your old friend, Mr. Shark."



"That's right, my little friends - he's going to fucking EAT you! Nom nom nom..." Ripp chuckled to himself.

"Ripp, stop torturing the poor fish." Buck said, as he stepped over to the tank to feed them. "They don't like it when you tap the glass like that."

"They love Mr. Shark, though."

"No they don't." Tank said, flatly. "They hate Mr. Shark... just like the rest of us."



"Dinner's on me, guys." Ripp grinned as he dialed a number into his phone.





"Yes, I'd like to order the greasiest, least healthy thing on your menu. Yeah. Hmmm. Yeah. Sweet. Yeah, that's perfect. Thanks."



Soon they were sitting together in the living room, happily eating their takeout.

Buck felt much better. It was nice to sit there, with his brothers yakking away at each other, and to fill his stomach with delicious, empty calories. It might not have been healthy, but Ripp had known what he was doing. It was just what the doctor ordered after a day like that.



Eating always made Buck feel better. Sometimes he thought that he should try to lose some weight, but he'd never be able to give up eating to do it. Filling his stomach was the next best thing to filling the empty space in his heart. That space that his mother used to occupy, and now the General too. He knew it would never really fill it, but it helped him to feel less empty. It was comforting. It was one of those things he could always rely on to feel better.



It wasn't a problem for him, like it used to be. For a while, after his mother had left, all he did was eat, and the General had not been impressed. He had tried to force Buck to get into shape, and shame him out of eating so much, but his anger only made Buck seek the comfort of food even more.

Finally, after this went on for a while, Ripp completely lost his shit at their father, and his resulting breakdown took the heat off Buck for a while. Buzz then turned his disapproval back to Ripp, where it was usually directed. To Ripp's continued defiance, and his shameful tears. He was a little ashamed to admit it, but Buck had been so thankful for that.



Sometimes Buck wondered if Ripp did things like that to intentionally draw the General's attention away from him. To protect him. He was sure that Ripp had his own reasons, but he liked to think that this was part of it too. He'd never forget Ripp's tearful pleas to the General to just let Buck be. That he was fine the way he was. And Tank, also, had come to his defense. He usually agreed with their father, but at that moment, he had just stood there and said, "He's right, Dad." From Tank, that had been quite a significant gesture. They had both done everything they could to defend him.

They weren't always easy to live with, but Buck loved his brothers, and he knew that they loved him.



And they were all fine the way they were, Buck thought. They would be okay, just as Tank had said.

"Mmmm. This is fucking delicious." Ripp was eating directly from the box, with obvious relish. "Really hits the spot."

"Didn't you get chopsticks with your's, Ripp?!" Tank grumbled.

"Yeah, but they get between my mouth and the food. I just like getting my face right where the action is." A devilish grin spread across his face. "It's kinda like when you're -"



"Ripp -"

"going down -"

"RIPP!"

"Well it is!"

"God... I do not need to hear this."



"You don't use 'chopsticks' on a woman, Tank."

"Seriously, Ripp..."

"You just have to get your face right the fuck in there, and then you -"

"Alright! I get the idea!"



"Wait..." Buck cut in. Then both turned to look at him.

"What?" Tank asked.

"Ummm, nothing..." Buck had wanted to hear the end of Ripp's directions, but was too embarrassed to say so. Maybe Tank didn't realize the value in Ripp's advice, but he did. His brother's advice could be very useful to him. He'd picked up a lot from Ripp over the years.

Ripp grinned, wide and greasy. "I'll talk to you later, Buck." And he resumed his devouring of the takeout. Tank let out a long sigh.



"God, you're such a pig!" Tank fumed. "You're going to get that shit all over the couch."

"This old piece of crap? Who the fuck cares? I've gotten worse things on this couch." Ripp chuckled to himself. Tank thought about that, and the fact that he was sitting on it at that very moment, and resisted the urge to gag.



"I'm going to choose to ignore that." He groaned.

"So, I hear that you actually met a girl after, at the party." Ripp grinned. "Took my advice..."

"Yeah..."

"Well, shit, Tank! Good for you! Maybe, if you're fucking lucky, you'll be dirtying up a couch of your own before too long." Tank gave Ripp a surly glare, but smiled a little when Ripp looked away.



"It's about time you got some action, Tank." Ripp laughed. "I was getting fucking embarrassed for you. I'll bet Buck even gets more than you do."

"Right..." Tank huffed.

"Fuck off, Tank." Ripp snapped. "Don't be a fucking asshole about it. I'll bet he has a girlfriend - You do, don't you, Buck?"

"Well..." Buck laughed nervously.

"See? You know he does. Buck's a classy guy. He knows how to work that Grunt magic."

Buck said nothing. He just looked at them.





His brothers.

They were what they were.



They were far from perfect, but Buck wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.



They were all he had.



"So, Mr. Grunt... what can you tell us about the Smith family?"

"Nothing, really. They're just your average family."

"Is it true that your father and Mr. Smith did not see eye to eye?"

"Well, yes... but that was just a minor personal dispute. It wasn't anything serious."



"Do you have any reason to suspect that they might have been involved in your father's disappearance?"

"No. Not at all."

"But they are aliens, aren't they?"

"Well, yes... some of them are. But they're just people... just your average family. They've always been good neighbours, and I've seen no reason not to trust them"

Those of you who are not Canadians may not be familiar with The Tragically Hip, but I highly recommend them. They are a huge band in Canada, and are up there with Tim Horton's coffee and hockey as "things that I think of when I hear the word Canada" (I'm just not very eloquent right now). Why they never took off outside of the country eludes me. The full title of this song is Courage (for Hugh MacLennan), and it references a quote by that author in his novel, The Watch that Ends the Night:

"But that night as I drove back to Montreal I at least discovered this: that there's no simple explanation for anything important any of us do, and that the human tragedy, or the human irony, consists in the necessity of living with the consequences of actions performed under the pressure of compulsions so obscure we do not and cannot understand them."

I love the reference, and the song has a really interesting dark edge to it ("Courage - It didn't come, it doesn't matter. Courage - it couldn't come at a worse time"). I think it really suits the Grunts, and how they live with the consequences of their decisions and actions.

Just thought I'd share my thoughts on it with you.

Also, I would like to give a shout out to pixel_and_bean for her excellent shaving cream. It even works on that hardcore Grunt stubble.

place: strangetown, character: smith, character: nigmos, character: worthington, character: beaker, character: clones, place: la fiesta tech, character: grunt

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