Real Men Don't Bark at Fire Hydrants Part 15

"Snotty b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," said the dog.

As if they knew what others thought of them, the Hydrans were remaining by the s.h.i.+p while the human-like and dog-like aliens approached the car.

"They can't help it," said Clem Padiddlepopper. As he spoke, he opened the Bug's doors and gestured them out of the vehicle. "It's their voices."

One of the approaching aliens, a man whose scalp bore only a thin white fuzz of hair, said, "They always sound so horribly offended when they have to speak with non-Hydrans."

"No sense of humor," said Clem.

"We can hear you, you know," said one of the stubby aliens. Then it said something to the Hydran beside it. When its voice and words sounded like a barking dog, Mickey immediately realized that some of the barks he had heard over the last few days had been Hydrans talking, or other aliens speaking to Hydrans, or humans imitating what they saw as funny antics. "And you wouldn't laugh either if you had to just stand there and take it every time a dog..."

"Only when the Earthlings are looking," said Kilroy, laughing doggishly.

"Have to maintain the cover, you know."

"If you ever try that when we're not in disguise..."

"They have an electric organ," said Clem. "Like an electric eel, though not as powerful."

Kilroy shuddered. "Thanks for reminding me."

"If they're Hydrans..." said Rocky.

"That's close enough," said Clem.

"Then what are we?" asked Kilroy. He shrugged, looked at Clem, and said, "You couldn't p.r.o.nounce it. So call us doggies."

"And we're just folks," said Clem. "Tourists, you know?"

"Come to gawk at the quaint natives, eh?" asked Mickey.

"You're not as quaint as you used to be," said Kilroy.

"And just how long have you been taking your vacations here?" asked Rocky.

By now the humanoid aliens from the flying saucer were close enough to shake Clem's hand. One did. "Haven't seen you out here for a while."

"Busy, busy. Some of our customers don't get along. You know."

"Hey!" barked a Hydran from the saucer's entrance. "It's not our fault!"

"I didn't say it was."

"Wait a minute," said Rocky. "Is that what you were doing with the rope?

And the switch? Breaking up arguments?"

"Not always. Sometimes a customer samples the wrong food or beverage, and then he starts cussing out a real fire hydrant."

"How long...?" Rocky's voice was now tinged with impatience.

"About five hundred years," said the one with the fuzz.

"Earth didn't get real popular until just the last few years." Clem sounded faintly apologetic.

"You finally have amenities a little more like what the customers are used to," said another humanoid alien. "They still have to rough it, but..."

He shrugged, and Kilroy said, "Not too many Earthlings go in for wilderness camping, you know?"

"There have been a few, though," said Clem.

"Ah, well. Chaucer couldn't make it back home, right?"

"What about Jackie Gleason, Abbott and Costello, Phil Silvers, Laurel and Hardy, the Three Stooges, Red Skelton?"

"They got bigger laughs here in the b.u.mwads, didn't they?"

"We call it the sticks," said Mickey.

Several of the aliens laughed. One said, "You sound like you think your species has produced any comedians at all!"

"You mean we haven't?" asked Rocky.

"Precious few! You have enough sense of humor to laugh at our jokes, but you couldn't even invent vaudeville on your own. Your idea of a joke runs to things like whoopee cus.h.i.+ons and bibles, and the next thing you know you're shooting at each other."

"Come on, now," cried Mickey in protest. "What about TV sitcoms?"

A doggy pointed at Clem Padiddlepopper with his nose. "His predecessor. Had to be replaced. He invented the 'Strange America' show."

"You're trying to tell me that that nonsense can prevent war?"

Both the humanoids and the doggies laughed at him. "Look at your history!"

said a doggy who would have needed very little help to pa.s.s as a collie. "When you were primitive and had no civilized amenities, and when there weren't very many of us around to keep you laughing, you had your worst wars."

"Now you're not so primitive," said a near greyhound. "You have more amenities, more of us are visiting, and that global conflagration you've all been dreading for the last half century or so seems less likely than ever."

"But...," said Mickey.

The humanoid with the fuzz nodded. "Right. You still have plenty of local wars, but they tend to be where there aren't many amenities, which just proves the point."

"You can't laugh and shoot at the same time," said the near-collie.

"At least, you can't," said a humanoid.

15. Cheesit! The Kops!

A quiet buzzer sounded within the saucer.