Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray and Other (Mostly) Inappropriate Stories

  Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray

  and Other (Mostly) Inappropriate Stories

  by

  David Lubar

  Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray

  and Other (Mostly) Inappropriate Stories

  eBook edition

  Collection copyright 2012 by David Lubar

  Cover design by digitaldonna.com

  All stories first appeared in Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show.

  First Smashwords Edition, March, 2012

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  A Quick Introduction

  Big Otto's Casino

  Hats Off

  Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray

  Toon Out

  Laws and Sausages

  Nice Kitty

  Jeepers, Creepers, Where'd You Get That Beeper?

  Growing Pains

  Art Is a Matter of Taste

  De-Fence

  About the Author

  Other Books by David Lubar

  A Quick Introduction

  I write a lot of short stories. Many of you are familiar with my collections, such as Attack of the Vampire Weenies and The Battle of the Red Hot Pepper Weenies. Those books are very popular in schools. Once in a while, I'll write a story that contains an item, a scene, or an action that might be inappropriate for a classroom. So if a story involves bringing a weapon to school (even if it is a seemingly useless alien death ray), gambling in a casino (even if it is in a video game), or stealing steroids (okay — that one is just plain bad), that story wouldn't, and shouldn't, go into the Weenies books. I don't want my books to get banned from any school, and I don't want to cause problems for teachers or librarians. But, thanks to how amazingly easy and inexpensive it is to produce an ebook, I can now share these stories with my fans. By the way, if your parents have a problem with a book of "inappropriate" stories, tell them, "I'm pretty sure the author is using the word ironically." That will both satisfy and impress them. As for the rest of the title, I say "mostly" because not all of the stories have inappropriate elements. Some are just weird or twisted, and some just didn’t seem right for the Weenies collections. But all of them are good. Enjoy.

  Big Otto's Casino

  "Thanks, Mrs. Zambini," I said as my last customer of the day paid me. Phew. I'd been mowing lawns all week and I was beat. But now for the good part — spending the money.

  I stopped at my friend Mike's house on the way into town. It's even more fun spending money when you bring someone along. We headed for Video Kingdom. They had a great selection of games, and the prices were pretty good.

  "Watcha gonna get?" Mike asked as we walked into the store.

  "I think Destructo III," I said. "I heard it has twice as much blood splatter as Destructo II."

  "Cool."

  And that's what I picked from the shelves when we got to the store. It looked fabulous.

  Check this out," Mike said, grabbing a box from the bottom shelf. "Big Otto's Casino. And it's only five bucks."

  I shook my head. "At that price, it has to stink."

  "I don't know," Mike said. "Remember Space Masher? That was only eight bucks"

  "Yeah, and it was pretty good." I held my hand out for the box. "Let me see."

  Mike passed the box to me. I checked the screen shots on the back. The graphics actually looked pretty good. And I had enough money for both games. "Sure," I said. "Why not."

  So I bought both games and took them home. We played Destructo III until Mike got tired of me ripping his arms off — I was a lot better at it than he was.

  Then I put in Big Otto's Casino. The title screen came up with a picture of Otto. He was a fat, ugly guy with a cigar clamped in his mouth. "Welcome," he said in a raspy voice. "Nice ta meetcha. C'mon in."

  The game started. I led my guy into the casino and played a slot machine. Before I knew it, I'd lost the hundred dollars I started with. But a screen popped up:

  Press START to borrow money

  Press X to quit

  I pressed START and got another hundred dollars. It didn't last much longer than the first. I tried blackjack, which I sort of understood. And craps, which is what they call dice. I got a kick out of the name, but I had no idea what I was doing.

  "Let me try," Mike said as the money screen came up again.

  "In a minute." I wasn't ready to give up. I knew I could win. My luck had to change sooner or later. This time, I lost my money playing roulette and the poker machines.

  "Man," Mike said, shaking his head, "what's the point?"

  "I don't know." Maybe he was right. This did seem kind of pointless.

  "Game over." Mike reached for the power switch.

  "Hold it," I said, grabbing his arm. "I want to try just one more time." I got another hundred dollars. I did a bit better this time. I still lost, but the money lasted longer.

  "This is getting boring," Mike said. "Come on, let's go outside."

  I shook my head. I'd been outside all week mowing lawns. Summer was half over, and that was about all I'd done. I was ready to take a break for the next month and just enjoy myself. I had enough games to keep me happy for a while. "I'm going to stick with it until I win," I said.

  "Give it up," Mike said.

  I shook my head. "Not yet. I can beat this thing. I know I can. I just need to figure out the right strategy."

  I kept playing. Sometime that evening, I guess Mike left. I really can't remember when. But I was getting better. Really. I lasted a lot longer before I had to borrow more money. One time, I even won a couple hundred from a slot machine. But then I blew it all again, trying to make up for everything I'd lost earlier.

  I fell asleep for a while in front of the game. When I woke up, I played some more. I was really getting good. Even so, I was down to my last five dollars. I bet it at roulette and lost.

  No big deal. I could borrow more and play again.

  But the usual screen didn't come up. Instead, I saw another message in flashing red letters. It just said: CREDIT LIMIT REACHED.

  That couldn't be the end. I hit the X button. The screen didn't change. I hit START. I didn't mind starting over. Nothing happened. I tried all the buttons. Nothing. I guess the game froze.

  As I reached to unplug the machine, the doorbell rang.

  I got up, and nearly fell flat on my face before I could take a step. My legs were stiff from sitting so long. The bell rang again.

  I staggered down the stairs and opened the door.

  It was Big Otto.

  "You owe us money," he said, speaking through the cigar he had clamped in his jaw. It really stunk. He pulled out a notebook. "Here we go. Ethan Spangler — two thousand dollars."

  I took a step back and shook my head. "I don't owe you anything. It was just a game."

  Otto laughed. "Don't try to back out now. We can make it very unpleasant for people who refuse to pay their debts." He grabbed the doorknob. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped it off. He took a bite out of it and spat the metal onto the porch. Then he grinned.

  "Look —
I'm just a kid," I told him. "I don't have any money."

  Otto kept grinning. "That's okay, kid. You can work off your debt by mowing my lawn."

  "No way." I'd already mowed enough lawns for one summer. "I'm not going to do it."

  "I'll bet you will."

  I started to say something, but I realized this would be a good time to take a break from betting. Besides, one more lawn wouldn't kill me. I still had the rest of summer vacation ahead of me.

  "Might as well get started," Otto said as he dragged me from the house. "I've got a big lawn. A real big lawn. It takes about a month to get the whole thing cut."

  And that's how I spent my summer vacation.

  Hats Off

  Freddy and I were busting our butts cleaning out his parents' tool shed. Freddy's father had offered us each a couple of bucks to do the work, which was fine with me. Of course, it turned out to be a lot more work than either of us counted on.

  "Man, it's amazing how much junk you can put in one of these sheds," I said as I collapsed on the ground next to a huge stack of tools and boxes.

  "Tell me about it," Freddy said. He opened a small box. I remembered it since it had weighed about eight million pounds and I'd nearly busted my gut carrying it out of the shed.

  "What's in it?" I asked.

  "Fishing magazines," Freddy said. "Dad hasn't fished in years. Guess it goes in the recycling pile."

  I helped him drag it over. We'd decided to sort everything into three piles: recycle, keep, and throw out. Toward the end of the cleanup, I opened a box that was filled with hats.

  "HEY DAD!" Freddy yelled toward the house. "You want any hats?"

  "No," his father called back through the open window. "Toss 'em."

  "We should keep these," I said, lifting one of the hats from the box. It looked like a baseball cap, but it didn't have a team name. All it said over the brim was ENERGY. I put it on my head.

  And I felt great.

  "Hey," Let's load those recyclables into your Dad's van," I said.

  "Hold on," Freddy said. "I'm beat."

  "Not me," I said, lifting the box of magazines. "I've got tons of —"

  "Tons of what?" Freddy asked.

  "Weird," I muttered. I'd been about to say energy.

  "What?" Freddy asked again.

  I reached into the hat box and grabbed another one. It promised HAPPINESS. Before Freddy could say anything, I plunked the hat on his head.

  "All right!" Freddy shouted, grinning at me. "Come on. Let's get moving. Man, I'm glad we're doing this." He laughed and grabbed a box.

  That was fine with me. We loaded the van. I'd just put in the last box when I heard Freddy say, "Hey, what a great surprise. There's Millard Thwaxton. Hey, Millard, how ya doing?"

  "Hold it, " I said, grabbing Freddy by the arm. But it was too late. Millard was the meanest kid in town. And Freddy just got his attention.

  I snatched at Freddy's hat, figuring he was too happy for our own good. It was stuck. I reached up and tried to get mine off. It was stuck, too, like a jar lid that's threaded on the wrong way. I felt it might come off if I worked on it, but I didn't have the time right now. Millard was rumbling our way.

  "Keep talking," I said, running toward the back yard. I tore through the box of hats and searched for one that might save us. I passed on ANGER and CURIOSITY. The first would get us killed and the second didn't seem too promising, especially if it made Millard curious about the best way to cause us pain. I grabbed KINDNESS. That would do the trick, and make the world a better place.

  I got back to the front just in time. Millard had reached Freddy and was playing that bully game where the other player always loses.

  "What did you say to me?" he asked.

  "I said hi," Freddy told him. "And I meant it. I'm awful happy to see you."

  "That some kind of a joke?" Millard asked.

  "Hey, have a hat," I said, tossing the cap to Millard.

  He grabbed it and stared at me. I was afraid he'd just throw the hat away. Or throw me away. But he put it on.

  He shoved it on his head. Backwards. With the brim facing away. I wondered what that would do to the kindness.

  I found out right away.

  "I'm gonna smash both of you," Millard said.

  Freddy and I took of. At least I had lots of energy for running. And Freddy seemed pretty happy. For the moment. But when MEANNESS caught up with him, it wouldn't be pretty.

  Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray

  My Uncle Shubert was passing through town, and had stopped at our house for a couple days. He's pretty cool for an adult. He takes me places and never treats me like a kid. As he was packing up his suitcase, I noticed a silvery tube on his bed.

  "What's that?" I asked.

  "Alien death ray," he said.

  I checked his face to see if he was kidding. It was hard to tell. "Do you mean it's a ray that aliens use to kill people, or is it a ray that kills aliens?"

  He shrugged. "Not sure. The guy who sold it to me wasn't very clear. But I liked the looks of it, and the price was right, so I bought it. Do you want it?"

  "For real?"

  "Yup."

  "For keeps?"

  "Definitely. It's all yours."

  "Awesome!" I grabbed the tube and took a close look. It fit nicely in my hand, though it was heavier than I'd expected. It was solid at one end, and hollow at the other, with a single clear glass button near the solid end. I pointed the tube out the window and pushed the button. Nothing happened.

  "Maybe it needs batteries," I said.

  "Maybe it only shoots aliens," he said. "Or maybe only aliens can shoot it."

  "Either way, thanks."

  "Sure. That's what uncles are for."

  I took the alien death ray with me to school the next day. I showed it to my friend, Veejay, as soon as I got to class.

  "What's that?" he asked.

  "Alien death ray," I told him.

  Before he could say another word, a hand swooped down over my shoulder and snatched the tube away. "Young man, you are in a lot of trouble," my teacher, Mrs. Peswitch, said. "You know we have a zero-tolerance policy about weapons."

  "But..." I tried to protest that it wasn't a real weapon, but she yanked my arm hard enough to pull me off my feet, and dragged me down the hall. The whole time, she kept muttering about all the "young, violent hooligans who were wrecking the school."

  The next thing I knew, I was in Principal Mabler's office. "This is very serious," he said. "Bringing a weapon to school. I'm shocked."

  "It's not real," I said.

  "That doesn't matter. We have a zero tolerance policy. It doesn't matter if it is a toy, or even a drawing of a weapon. Any weapon gets you a five day suspension. I'm sure your parents will agree that this has to be done. It's the only way to keep us safe."

  He reached for the phone.

  "Please..." I'd never been in any kind of big trouble. This was so bad, I could feel my knees trembling. Then my whole body started to tremble.

  "I'm sorry. No exceptions. Not even —"

  Whatever he said next was drowned out by the roar. It was like twenty fighter jets flew overhead at once. Then the roar grew louder. The whole room shook. Books bounced off the shelf behind Principal Mabler, and his diploma fell off the wall.

  I raced to the window. A space ship, round and huge and filled with flashing lights, landed in the front of the school. As I stared, the hatch opened, and a whole bunch of creatures raced out. They were big — maybe six or seven feet tall. They had enormous heads with four eyes. They had four arms, each carrying something that I figured had to be a weapon.

  Principal Mabler opened his mouth, but all that came out was a gasp as his eyes rolled back and he passed out. He flopped to the floor. Luckily, he had a thick rug in his office.

  I grabbed the alien death ray from the desk and raced back to the window. I aimed the ray at the largest alien and pressed the button.

  I hope this works.

&nb
sp; It sure did. I nearly got knocked on my butt as a searing beam of energy shot from the tube. The alien sizzled for an instant, like a burger that had just been dropped on a red-hot grill, then vanished in a puff of green smoke.

  I stared shooting the rest of them. Luckily, I'd played enough video games, and watched enough cartoons, to know what sort of stance to use with this kind of weapon. I cleared out all the aliens I could see. But some of them had broken into the school. I ran out of the office, and hunted down at the rest of them.

  When I was sure I'd gotten all of the aliens, I returned to the office. There was one last alien in there. He was holding the principal from behind, and had some sort of gun pointed at his head.

  "Help me," Principal Mabler said.

  "Zero tolerance?" I asked. "No exceptions?"

  "That would be silly," he said. "There are always exceptions."

  I fried the last alien, and then put the ray in my pocket. I headed toward the door so I could get back to my classroom before the morning announcements. But I turned back an instant later. "Can I have a late pass?" I asked. "Mrs. Peswitch loves to give out detention."

  "Well, according to the rules, tardiness based on disciplinary actions isn't excusable." Principal Mabler said.

  "So I'm going to get a detention?" I asked.

  "I'm afraid so."

  "Oh no! Aliens!" I pointed out the window.

  Principal Mabler let out a squeal and dove to the floor. Then he crawled to the window and peeked over the sill. "What! Where!"

  "My mistake," I said. "I could have sworn it was more aliens. It must have been a cloud or a duck or something. So, anyhow, about that late pass?"

  "No problem." He got off the floor, grabbed his pad, and started writing.

  "Thanks." I took the pass and headed back to homeroom. I thought about running down the hall, but I knew that was against the rules. And some rules actually made sense.

  Toon Out

  I'm scared. Before today, I was still able to convince myself that it was just a silly idea. But when my sister came home from school, I realized that none of it was my imagination — it was real. Leslie started band this morning. I prayed she'd want to learn flute or clarinet. Lots of girls play flute. I wouldn't even have minded if she'd brought home a French horn or an oboe.