225 The Report to Georock-VI

"Well sir, we've evaluated the Earth digital transmissions and have our report."

The Grand Effexor of Georock-VI looked sternly at his two xenohistorians. "Go on."

"Well, sir, the report's 347 holoplates."

"The short version, Wedge. Or you, Wedge."

There were two Wedges, both of them the Grand Effexor's xenohistorians. The Grand Effexor called all his lackeys "Wedge," because it's the simplest tool.

"Well, sir..." the Chief Wedge stammered.

"'By the Balls of Sextaur, get on with it!" The Grand Effexor raised a single mucodigit as a stern warning. The Wedges knew what that meant.

"The entire holotome can be summarized in two main points," he continued in a hopeful tone.

"Yes?"

"First, sir, is that Earth humans like to blow things up. They've had a love affair with explosives since they discovered fire."

"Actually, sir," interjected the Assistant Wedge, "they fell in love with explosions about ten minutes after discovering fire. Fire, then—"

"Bam!" shouted the Chief Wedge.

"Right, Bam!" repeated the Assistant Wedge. "All their entertainment, their drama on their broadcasts—involve blowing up lots of things.

"And second?"

"Second," the Chief Wedge reported, "is that they are a heavily dancing species."

The Grand Effector stared blankly.

"Sir?" asked the Chief Wedge.

"Just a moment," the Grand Effexor said. "Dancing?"

"Yes, sir, dancing. A rhythmic gyration of celebration, apparently, and it is all over the digital transmissions, especially on the advertisements which, when digitally broadcast, are called 'commercials.'"

"These beings do this dancing as an expression of happiness, sir. Happiness is big in commercials, implying that purchasing items or services advertised will create happiness."

"Yes," said the Chief Wedge. "There are fat people dancing with great happiness over a diet injection."

"And people dancing when using what they feel are great cleaning products."

"Should we have this dancing or these commercials here on Georock?"

"We don't have enough musculoskeltal interface with our cerebella for dancing. But commercials should be just forbidden summarily."

"Still, dancing is impossible for us, biologically?"

"Yes, Grand Effexor, as is happiness."

"We could pretend, sir."

"Many on Earth do."

"OK. Then let's just blow up the dancing fools. They'll love it."

"I feel like dancing, sir."

"If he could, he would, sir."

____________

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

For Monday, August 12, Day 225 of the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge

365 WORDS (without A/N)

Accompaniment photos were AI-generated but the Grand Effexor was not.

------

THIS CHALLENGE GRINDS ON, 366 WORDS AT A TIME...

There are currently three surviving prolific, pretentious, promiscuous, and copacetic Vocal scribbling scribes still participating in the insane, inane, pre-election 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge:

• L.C. Schäfer, (challenge originator)

• Rachel Deeming (challenge participant)

• Gerard DiLeo (bulbous actuator)

Read them. Support them. And remember, "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands. Or dance!"