Greegs & Ladders by Zack Mitchell, Danny Mendlow (13 ebook reader .TXT) 📖

with its unstoppable stench, the forgotten memories of Diaper Mountain casually drifted across several light years before settling down on a peaceful, reddish planet. Sadly, this reddish planet was inhabited. All 9.7 billion resident creatures promptly suffered death when the logic-defying stench arrived. It is a good thing sound does not travel through space as well as aroma, for the screams of the dying creatures were so shrill they would have devastated beyond repair the nearby planet Glassvexx, thus sending millions of shards of apparently unbreakable Jardian mega-prisms hurtling through the cosmos for most of infinity.

Groolfh, justifiably believing he’d made a discovery that would forever transform the history of the Greeg, went forth to one of the highest-up committees in charge of schmold distribution and attempted to explain the futility of bathing in schmold. He passionately argued that bathing in schmold makes you infinitely less clean. He was met with a unanimous vote of disdain and bewilderment. ‘Something as ridiculously expensive as schmold is clearly worth taking a bath in’ was all the committee said before sentencing Groolfh to death for daring to think otherwise. Groolfh was fired out of a cannon aimed directly at Garbotron VI. Luckily he was vaporized in the atmosphere, however the wind of the cannon fire had the unfortunate timing of passing directly through Diaper Mountain on its way to a peaceful reddish planet.

If these particular Greegs were aware of life on other planets, and were able to notice the interconnectedness of life in the universe as well as I am, they might have adopted a motivational motto that went something like this: ‘To deny the usefulness of bathing in schmold is to cause 9.7 billion creatures to die horribly of Garbotron suffocation.’

Such a revelation was not had.

CHAPTER 3

Greeg Career-Paths

 

Greeg children often fantasized about their future adult career. The only difference with Earthling children, who dream of being any random thing like an actor or a scientist, is that Greegs' career choices were entirely limited to one of the many sub-categories ofschmold production. However, Greeg children were still free to dream about which exact area of schmold production they would like to be a part of. Schmold Tunneler? Schmold Taster? Schmold Bathroom Attendant? Some children had high hopes, announcing to proud parents they would one day be the owner of their very own schmold Dealership. Some children aimed their sights low, announcing to embarrassed parents they wished to be a lowly schmold Bottler.

“No son of mine is going to settle for working as a Bottler!” was a phrase commonly heard screamed by the father of the Djoog household. “We won’t be able to afford a drop of schmold on the pension of a bottler! What is it? You think you aren’t important enough for upper management? I suppose you also think the suns and planets weren’t just put there for your own enjoyment?”

“Don’t be harsh,” the logical Djoog mother might have said. “We don’t want him to start pouring water into a schmold pit like the Glurj boy.”

“The Glurj boy tainted our schmold pits out of jealousy, because those useless Glurjs never owned a drop of schmold in their whole schmold-less life! Do you want to wind up like a Glurj? Unable to walk down the street without people pointing at you and laughing?”

I later checked in on the Djoog household. Their son fulfilled his dream of being a bottler. With his paltry salary the family were able to afford no schmold at all. In a fit of shame the father leaped into a schmold pit. Although dead, the Djoog father was henceforth thought about with great reverence and jealousy by all Greegs, as it was widely believed that leaping into a schmold pit was the greatest bath one could take.

CHAPTER 4

Further Arrogance and Schlepschen Pools

 

There are many questions I’m certain you have swirling around your head already regarding the culture, behaviours, beliefs, activities, government and history of The Greegs. One thing you should be asking is “What is the name of the planet these silly creatures live on?” To be truthful though, these particular Greegs have not found it necessary to name their home planet, as astounding a concept as that may be to you. Space mapping space mappers once labelled it “one of 11 planets containing wriggly, walky, breathy things in the hopeless, undeveloped but reasonably entertaining to look at from a safe distance sun system of the 38 planets in the 59 sunned district of Herb,” and with that dismissive but wholly accurate generalization, they went on to map, in much more detail, several of the more illustrious and glorious areas of the many universes they happened to be mapping at the time.

The Greegs simply called it ‘our planet.’ Despite measuring only 597 cm tall on average, (well done with the metric system earthlings, at least you did get something right) the Greegs still had the audacity to believe that their entire planet (measuring an astounding 87, 000 km in diameter, on average) belonged to them. As if they had any say in the matter. As if they had any idea how they even got there in the first place. They genuinely believed its only reason for existing was to offer them a steady supply of schmold and to act as their planetary shelter. Not that they knew or cared about what it was sheltering them from. Then again, these were creatures that believed all plains of existence were merely inconsequential pretty things for them to look at. What an arrogant, self-absorbed bunch of jackasses, wouldn’t you say?

Another question you may be asking yourself is why The Greegs would be so keen to take a bath in a sticky, wet, green goo. How could they possibly think this was a splendid idea, no less a sign of wealth and status? To be true, if you took aside an individual Greeg and tried to get them to explain to you the rationality behind worshipping a glowing, greenish slime they would not be able to give you a satisfactory or remotely logical explanation. They would look at you in disbelief and say things like “It is the most precious substance that exists, you fool! Why wouldn’t we want to obtain loads of it and bathe in it?” You would be hard pressed to shake them from this line of thinking. Even if you did shake them from this line of thinking, the best case scenario would involve them telling other Greegs involved in high up committees and eventually being blasted out of a cannon towards a garbage planet.

You might also be wondering what it is that Greegs do should they be so fortunate as to have a bath of Schmold. Surely they don’t just wash it all off afterwards or put their clothes on?! No, they do neither, because Greegs do not wear clothes. They are a naked creature. Hairy, smelly, naked and filthy. Filth is a sign of prestige and honour in the Greeg society. Nakedness, doubly so. To understand why this is the case, you must first understand a bit more about the unnamed planet these filthy, wretched, naked things live on.

One of the 11 planets containing wriggly, walky, breathy things in the hopeless, undeveloped but reasonably entertaining to look at from a safe distance sun system of the 38 planets in the 59 sunned district of Herb is arguably the cleanest, most spotless floating orb within forty seven trillion parsecs of the 11 planets containing wriggly, walky, breathy things in the hopeless, undeveloped but reasonably entertaining to look at from a safe distance sun system of the 38 planets in the 59 sunned district of Herb. The planet is stunningly, immaculately, and amazingly clean. Spotless surfaces that look like varnished marble, shiny glass windows and freshly bleached tile floors abound. All of the things that live on the planet are clean and tidy. They all work cohesively in a truly mind blowing balance, each playing their role in keeping the place absolutely spotless. Gorgeous. Clean. Fresh. Beautiful.

All… except The Greegs. The Greegs look at the cleanliness of the planet in disdain. They may go out on a field trip to view the clean parts of the planet, but just to take a look at. It gives them an icky feeling if they stay out there too long. They much prefer to stay in their filthy mud camps, bogs, marshes and Schlepschen pools. The places where The Greegs reside in great numbers look like big piles of garbage dumped on the otherwise pristine landscape. No one can be sure, but this is most likely because the places where The Greegs reside in great numbers ARE big piles of garbage dumped on the otherwise pristine landscape. Greegs treat their planet as if they were a pack of unruly teenagers, anti-establishment punk rockers and street people whose distant relatives died and left them a ridiculously fancy home. They’ve done nothing to earn such a nice place, and have no appreciation for its value or how to keep a house like this in order. In fact, they view the house as a sign of snootiness they want no part of. As far as they’re concerned, about the only good thing about the house is it has one hell of a liquor supply in the basement. The liquor supply is schmold.

CHAPTER 5

Coverings

 

To be caught wearing clothes is a most heinous crime. There is no need to inflict punishment, merely the embarrassment of being publicly seen ‘all covered up’ is enough to send any Greeg into self-inflicted exile. No Greeg has ever been seen ‘all covered up’ in public without banishing themselves into “the cleanliness,” as they call the savagely clean lands outside their “civilization.”

It should be noted