Buy or Die. There cometh a time of ruthless advertising

***

“And guess what happened with Jack this time?” Y asked. “I must say, it was a rather nasty affair.”

He paused, watching the children mockingly.

“As a matter of fact,” he announced finally, “Rock Doc lured him to the factory of air balloons!”

“But how?” Kwick gasped.

“Outwitted…” Y cut off.

“And not only to the factory,” he continued, “but straight into the machine that fills the balloons with air. Here it is. Jack hardly had time to look around, as he was already pumped into one thousand balloons. Or maybe two thousand. I did not count, you know. I slept.”

“Bloody shit!” Kwick exclaimed.

“Wha-at?” Tess drawled menacingly.

“Nothing,” Kwick replied hastily. “Keep going, Dad. Keep going.”

“So,” Y continued, “Jack was pumped into one or, maybe, two thousand air balloons, delivered to stalls all over the city and, in less than an hour, he was all sold out. At a discount. So he found himself in a thousand or, maybe, two thousand different places at the same time, locked securely in a rubber casing, dangling on a thin rope without the slightest chance of getting out… And do not forget your porridge.”

Spoons obediently plunged into the bowls, and Rock Doc issued encouraging yet ominous (he was still a very bad guy) laughter: “A-ha-ha!” And then: “O-ho-ho!” And, finally, “E-he-he.” Why not? Nobody could prevent him from taking possession of the whole Earth now.

“Doc started with a visit to a president. The president was watering his favorite ficus at the moment.

“Hey, you!” Doc called from the doorway in a boorish tone. “Are you the big boss here?”

The president paid him no attention at all, continuing to water his ficus as if nothing had happened. They, these presidents, had been taught not to pay attention to rudeness and criticism from their very childhood. But the Rock Doc was not a guy to be easily embarrassed.

“Well now,” said Doc, “kindly leave the flower alone and get out of this nice place immediately. I’m the boss here now!”

The president did not answer to this either. He just pressed the alarm button on the bottom of the ficus’ pot, a bit more nervously than before. Well, and he poured too much water into the pot. Trained as he was, he was not a superhero.

Rock Doc saw that peaceful methods would not work, and calmly pressed his index finger to the wall. And we all remember why he is called Rock Doc, don’t we? Exactly! The moment his finger touches something, that something turns into solid stone immediately. So it did: right before the president’s eyes, a stone wave started to spread out from the finger on the wall like circles on the water. The next moment, all the president’s bodyguards broke into the room, waving with their pistols, and immediately turned to stone. The president saw his guards stuck in the most ridiculous poses, while the petrification steadily approached his favorite ficus. The president understood: sticking to the protocol somehow would not help today.

“Okay, okay,” the president says in a great haste. “Why this terrible violence? It is absolutely unnecessary between the two of us. You won – I’m leaving. But remember: you will never get this wonderful flower. Never!”

He jerked the ficus out of the pot (which was too heavy to be carried away) and plodded towards the exit sadly. At the threshold, he turned around just to say gloatingly:

“We’ll see how you like this. The position is unenviable.””

Y paused.

“So, then what?” Kwick urged him on.

“Well, it surely would have been the end of the story and, most likely, the end of everything else had Jack not recovered by that time.

At first, right after Jack was packed, there were several rather shameful moments of serious bewilderment and abashment. Well, these moments were shameful but excusable: it’s hard to remain focused when your right eye is visiting the zoo, while the left is swiftly leaving town in a wedding car; one ear is visiting a paleontological museum and another is attending a children’s party; your arms, legs and body are devil knows where, and your brain seem to be lost altogether. It’s expected that some minor confusion is quite natural and even welcome in such circumstances.”

“Yeah!” Twick breathed out, highly impressed.

“Sure!” affirmed Kwick.

“My wudnat confuse!” assured Mick, as self-confidently as any person under five.

“And nobody doubts it, dear,” Y agreed. “Jack “wudnat’ be confused for too long either. He clenched his teeth and, with one terrible effort of will, gathered himself back. The air balloons, sure enough, had no choice but to flow to him like little obedient clouds. Oh, what a wonderful sight it was! At once, they all rushed into the heavens, leaving their perplexed little owners far beneath, although not all of them – a dozen or so kids had flown away on their balloons. Either they didn’t have time to let go of the string, or their mothers had tied the strings to their sleeves. Later on, Jack, of course, returned them to their parents. No, Mick, do not worry, he returned the balloons too.

So, with or without the kids, all the balloons finally came together. The whole thousand or two. And together they composed a huge monster all built of balloons. Two thousand balloons, just imagine. Huge as it was, it appeared to be very light. The slightest breeze was a disaster for him. Now and then a leg or an arm would come off with a gust of wind. It was twice as bad if it was the hand that was holding his head. For his head itself only seemed to think about how to fly away. In general, Jack had enough problems to deal with. He had no time to be bored, that was sure. Such a loose body he had; more a travesty than a body.

As you know, Jack did not like to waste his time. It was not that easy, and took him a while to get to the president’s apartments. Anyway, he got there. Once there, he grabbed the fence, so as not to fly away by chance, and shouted in a menacing voice: “Come out, villain, and fight!”

Rock Doc almost choked on a pie he was eating (the president’s refrigerator was stuffed with the best pies). Well, had there been any choice left to him? Nope. Not a single one. So, he finished the pie and came out for battle. He looked around and at once spotted Jack, who fluttered in the wind, grabbing the fence with one hand and holding his own head with the other. Rock Doc had never laughed so much before.

“Oh,” he said, having calmed down a bit, “I’m so scared, bro. I’m so scared. Even more so, as I need to sneeze and can’t even imagine where we will find you if that happens.”

He started to laugh again and just couldn’t stop, as if someone had tickled him. Jack, not saying a word, just waved his hand (which had some three hundred balloons in it) and hit Doc right in the ear! Doc stopped laughing at once and shook his head fiercely to get rid of the awful ringing in his ears. I must say that Doc got angry very quickly. And this very anger played a very nasty joke on him, because Doc, not thinking for long, poked Jack with his finger and ordered him to turn to stone. So Jack did. That is, he turned to stone at once.”

The hushed trio at the table gasped.

“Yes, Jack was petrified,” continued Y. “More precisely, the balloons were, not Jack. How on earth can you turn air into stone? Air is air and air it will remain. Balloons are another matter. With their new stony weight, they poured down on the ground like peas. Each pea, hitting the ground, shattered into pieces, setting free yet another part of Jack. In less than a minute, Jack was complete again.”

At this point Y noticed at last that Tess had been sending him desperate signals for some time now. He glanced at his watch, lifted his eyebrows and hastily finished the story.

“And this time, Doc got such a beating from Jack that I can hardly share the scene with you. Just believe me, the evil was punished. And now everyone needs to get dressed and do it very quickly. Twick’s lessons start in five minutes.”

Chapter 3 | Audiologist

“Hello, what seems to be the problem?” The doctor’s rosy face shone with optimism and self-confidence.

“My ear hurts,” Z replied gloomily.

“Does it hurt, ache, or hear poorly?” the doctor laid out his assortment smartly. “Or maybe you are just not happy with its shape?”

“Most likely the latter,” agreed Z. “I am not happy with its new shape.”

He gently touched the sticking plaster on his ear.

The doctor’s face froze.

“What happened?” he asked, for some reason now looking at the door and not at Z.

“An accident. I chopped it off with a car door,” Z explained.

“I see, I see,” the doctor said absently, never taking his eyes off the door.

The door opened, letting in two male nurses. One of them with a bored look remained on the threshold, the other went to the window and casually sat on the window sill.

For a while everyone was silent.