Message-Id: <9401122032.AA08262@hardrock.isi.com>
Sender: mav%hardrock@hopper.isi.com
Date: Wed, 12 Jan 1994 12:29:50 -0800
To: alt-ql-creative@cisco.com
From: mav@isi.com
Subject: Two Dweebs...- Story Part 1

TWO DWEEBS & A LITTLE MONSTER by Christina Mavroudis

The room disappeared in a flash of light.  He found himself standing 
on a railing, looking at a giraffe. The giraffe lowered his neck to 
look at him. He scrambled off the railing startled.

A woman with a paisley dress laughed.  "Yes, he does have a long  
neck, Johnny!"  She offered him her hand.  "Well, it's time to go. 
Daddy will be wondering where we are."

Daddy...? Sam looked around.  They were in a giraffe house of some 
zoo or another.  He let her guide him out the door into the bright 
sunlight, then paused by the reflecting pool by the front door and 
looked at his image.  "Oh, boy," he groaned softly.  The image that 
looked back was of a little boy, about three years old.

"What do you see there?" the woman said.  "Fishes?"

"Yeah. Fishies," Sam said.  Oh boy, he groaned again to himself.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Mary Levitz pulled the curly brown hair back from her sundrenched 
forehead, shaded her eyes and squinted in the distance.  "Where is 
that man?" she asked rhetorically. Sam  took in the vision of his 
youthful "mother", dressed in the paisley dress, matching purple 
floods and lime green sandals. Except for a small tummy indicating 
a feeble attempt to get back in shape after...his birth?...she had 
an excellent physique.  And  functioning vocal cords to boot. 
  
"Bruce!," she screamed, cupping her hands around her mouth to 
direct the sound.  Sam, embarrassed by her public display, looked 
down only to find a mop of blue cotton candy clutched in his hand 
and the front of his formerly white T-shirt covered with every 
food color, texture and smell imaginable. Again she questioned Sam, 
"Where IS he?"

"Uh, I don't..." he began, then stopped short when he realized she 
wasn't paying attention.

"He's always getting distracted," she mumbled.  With a jerk, she 
pulled him away from the pool and Sam, unable to keep his balance
or the blue fluff, lost both.   He tried to keep up, but,  with
accumulating horror, realized his pants held a load from its 
previous occupant. 

"Oh, geeeeeeze," he finally bellowed and Mary stopped with a start.  
"I pooped," he tugged at her hand. 

Mary's shoulders sagged. "I know you're tired, Honey, but Mommy's 
just got to find Daddy," her voice changed dramatically, "the little
weasel."  She continued searching as Sam shifted from side to side 
trying to find a more comfortable position.  No use trying to explain 
I meant another type of 'poop', Sam thought and instead, tried to 
take in his bearings.  Mary had stopped in front of the concession 
stands and straight ahead was the chimpanzee exhibit.  

"Cory?" Sam questioned. His puzzlement ended when the resting chimp
reacted to his call, gripping the bars and puckering her lips.  
He managed only a quick wave, however, when his 'mother' impatiently
lurched him away again.  "See you in a few..."

"Let's go, Boo-boo. We'll go back to the car." She talked but did not 
look down, merely outlining her next steps verbally for herself rather 
than for Johnny. "He's bound to be there."

Though only a few minutes into the leap, Sam was already exasperated. 
"Look, lady, I've been a Bo-bo, let's not call me Boo-boo." Mary froze 
in mid-sentence and looked straight at him.  No matter that they were 
eye-ball to eyeball, Sam knew his spoken words were finally hitting her.
He knew that the expected gurgles from her baby had been replaced by 
something more sophisticated.

"Boo-boo?" Mary tried hesitantly. 

"Mama?" Sam covered.

She shook her head as if to clear her mind of "voices", and lead him 
into the parking lot. At the car, a 1960 red Buick,  she lifted him 
into a babyseat (which mysteriously seemed to fit the oversized body
of the physicist) and began strapping him in.  Sam cringed at the 
spreading mess beneath him and restrained himself when she came
precariously close to sensitive areas.  With what appeared to be  
a routine gesture, Mary handed him a baby bottle filled with apple 
juice and stepped away from the car to look for her wandering hubby. 
Her breath came heavier and Sam secretly feared she was going to be
violent.  "Where is that monster?" Turning back to Sam, she bent 
over in an Al-favored position to straighten out his suspenders.
 
As if on cue, Al stepped through the Imaging Chamber door and dipped
bust-level to view the goods. His uninhibited nature frequenting eyes,
 mouth, and somehow, even body, much against Sam's more Victorian 
morals.  While his eyes  widened at the endowments presented for 
his inspection, he chomped on his cigar appreciatively at the sight. 

Dressed in the most outlandish half-made jacket of ultra-suade and 
plastic, Al ignored his squirming buddy and voiced his pleasure with 
a growl. "Oh, Sweetheart, let me be your baby!"

"Al!" Sam reacted sotto voce.  But at the sound, Mary looked at him 
again, her brows furrowed.  Sam blinked innocently and covered by 
playing with sounds, "alll, al, tal, ba, bu.." until she finished 
fussing with his shoes and went on to lick a hanky and begin 
cleaning his face.

Sam gave Al a glare he knew all too well and got back to business 
punching a few handlink buttons.  Mary was cooing at Sam in 
gibberish, but Al just went over her 'mommyisms.'  "We had a hard 
time locating you by the by, Sam.  Your counterpart is not a 
talkative individual. Kinda strange to see the image of your body 
in a fetal position sucking your...uh...his thumb."  In frustration 
at not being able to talk and to stifle the babbling hologram, Sam
plucked his thumb in his mouth as if to say 'get on with it.'  
Mary took it to mean he was thirsty, pulled out his thumb with a 
"thwak" and stuffed the juice bottle in his mouth. Sam reflexively 
gagged.

"Mommy's sorry, Boo-boo. She's worried," Mary explained while 
combing  his bangs, then straightened up to scan the area once 
more.  Sam retracted the droolly nipple from his lips and urgently 
grilled the amused Al.

"Not funny, Al. How is the baby who leaped out? And why am I here?"

"Oh the baby's OK, just sleeping it off. Let's see. Well, we 
haven't found much. We're still trying to find out what you're 
here to do. From what we could gather so far, your name is...

Sam began rambling, "Boo-boo. Or Sweetie," then looked down at 
his shirt. "It should be Sloppy." 

Al interrupted. "Not - it's Johnny. Johnny Levitz. And you're two 
and a half years old. Mary Levitz, your endowed mother outside 
there, is looking for your father, Bruce Levitz, a CPA who just 
got his business degree. They recently bought a house in the San 
Fernando Valley for $20,000.  Yeow! You can't even make a down 
payment on a house for that amount..." Sam's evil eye caught him 
once more and he continued with the essentials. "Oh! Ziggy's got 
something"

"Finally."

"Something about Johnny getting lost.  Uh...No...Yes..." Al looked 
up from the Link slightly frazzled and gave it a palm-butt that 
sent it squealing. "Stupid, gummy...." he mumbled then seemed to 
find what he was looking for. "Ah, you're, he's reported missing 
in Los Angeles, not Lost Angeles.

Sam pointed to a sign just outside the zoo entrance. It read 'Los 
Angeles Zoo.'  "Al, I'm in L.A. already. Can I get something pertinent 
here."

"Right," Al conceded, "Donna, uh.. I mean Tina's looking for more 
data to plug into Ziggy. We're accessing a slower CPU." He quickly 
looked down at the squealing gadget in hopes that Sam missed the 
blatant reference to his wife. Sam, trying to get the belt between 
his legs in a less restrained position, was oblivious or thought 
it was just another one of Al's conquests.

"Well, tell them to get cracking. I want out of here fast. It's 
worse than being a chimp, or pregnant or..."  Sam stopped when 
Mary peeked in the car again.

"Mommy will be right back," she cajoled him in a high pitch voice, 
"She has to find that bum of a daddy." Her voice lowered, "That 
jerk...always wandering off," and then began imitating Bruce, 
"I'm just going for a drink, Hon, be back in a few," while she 
shoved the juice bottle back in Sam's mouth. "Drink up, Pumpkin." 
Backing out, she slammed the door and headed toward the gate.

While this gave Sam and Al a chance to speak freely, with a jolt, 
Sam began working on the belt with more urgency. "What's the 
problem, Sam?" Al asked with a sly grin, "If you have to go, just..."

Sam interrupted. "I...Johnny already has. And its not that. Look."  
He briefly pointed to the ignition then set to work on he belt again.
There, dangling innocently, were the keys to the car.  "Check Ziggy 
again and take a look around the parking lot."

Al nodded with realization and popped head first through the roof 
of the car to scan the area.  Just four rows over, two greasy, 
unkept men headed their way.  "You're right, Sam. I've spotted 
some mighty suspicious characters and I don't think they're 
looking through car windows for the view." With this news, 
Sam's panic became frantic. He struggled with the belt, but the 
angle of it, his slobbered, sticky fingers, and the situation were 
no help. And then it was too late. With a bang, the filth-ridden 
men slid into the front seats, started up the car, and screeched 
off just as Sam finally released the latch.

"Perfect timing," Al said dryly.

"Oh, Len," said the one man driving, "It's food a-plenty. We may 
have enough to send Terry back home."

Len, younger, leaner and visibly nervous, talked over him. "Big 
Ben says he'll pay us $100 sight unseen for a moving vehicle. I 
think we can get at least $150 -- there's no damage and.." With a
double-take, Len suddenly spotted Sam in the back. Reminiscent of 
the Gerdi-E.T. confrontation, the two screamed in shock at one 
another, then Len hit the driver, "Joe, Joe. We're in a mess of 
trouble."

Al couldn't resist, "No. Sam's in a mess, you're just in trouble."

Joe looked back at the discovery and all three groaned. 

"Oh, boy."

-----------------------------------------------------

Back in the parking lot, Mary had found Bruce, a hulking line-
backer-type, who patiently listened to his scolding wife while 
they walked back to the car.  Abruptly Mary stopped and rushed 
forward,turning visibly pale, conclusions running through her mind. 

"Oh, God. Bruce. It's gone." 

"What?" he asked, his own fears rising with hers.

"The car," she said, and saw the speeding Buick exit the zoo 
grounds. A pounding filled her ears as she tried to follow. 
"The car! My baby!" From the back window, Mary could just 
make out the image of her son mouthing the word, "Help." 
In a nanosecond, Bruce was gently lowering Mary to the 
pavement and fanning her face with his fingers. A crowd 
began to gather and he brokenly requested someone call the 
police. 

"They've stolen my boy."


____| | |      Christina Mavroudis    | | |____
 ___|_| |    Integrated Systems, Inc. | |_|___
  __|_|_|        Santa Clara, CA      |_|_|__
    \_|_|______      Ext. 241    _____|_|_/
      \_|_____________________________|_/