Sunday, April 8, 2012

Customer Service


Here is an Easter Story for you.  Okay, honestly, it has nothing to do with Easter.  Sorry.  But enjoy all the same!

Ayalaya strode across the walkway with her bright blue burqua flowing behind her.  Attendants in orange and yellow dress followed behind her, trying to keep up.  There was a queue at the ticket counter, but Ayalaya shoved people aside with her blue gloved hands.

"May I help . . ." the chitinous alien with a bulbous, bright red nose said in a perfect Midwestern accent.  Its mandibles were deftly twisted into an creepy, yet serviceable smile.

"You people misplaced our boarding passes, and I demand recompense and rectification," Ayalaya slammed her fist down on the counter.

The alien agent's nose twitched.  "Of course.  If you will just move to the back of the line and wait your turn . . ."

Ayalaya's veil puffed outwards as she huffed.  "Do you not know who I am?"

The agent's nose rose an inch high, twitched, and settled back down.  "No, ma'am.  Please, there are customers. . ."

"What is with your nose?" Ayalaya pointed at it with a gloved hand.

"Ma'am, it is not a nose.  It is my reproductive organ.  If you will please go to . . ."

"What?" Ayalaya's voice echoed throughout the entire space terminal.  “I demand to speak to your manager immediately!”

A pencil thin, bright yellow, eight foot tall manager appeared from behind a door, its four arms sticking out of a neatly buttoned navy blue blazer.  The alien rubbed its hands together and created a huge elastic smile on its face.

“How may I . . . “

“This thing,” Ayala pointed at the agent, “has sexually assaulted me!”

“Oh . . .” the manager said, “I’m sure there has been some kind of mistake.  After all, the two of you are different species.”

Ayalaya gasped.  “How dare you doubt my word!  My wife is a high Imam in the Holy Order of Sapphic Islam!”  The angry woman shoved a stack of brochures off the counter onto the ground, and then stomped on them.  “My wife will have your jobs and own this rinky-dink little spaceline before the day is through!”

“Please, please,” the yellow alien said, “Please come around the corner to the VIP counter.  My superior is there and she will take care of your personally.”

Ayalaya huffed, “Fine then, but do not think your job is safe yet!”  She and her entourage headed off, disappearing around the corner.

The manager turned to the agent, whose nose was vibrating back and forth very quickly.  “I’m very unhappy with you, X’Tlaktl,” the manager hissed.

“I am very sorry, sir,” the ticket agent lowered his head, his nose still vibrating. “The human was yelling at me.”

“So?”

“It was very . . . stimulating.  It brought up my urge to . . . breed.”

The manger rolled his four eyes, “You are a complete pervert, X’Tlaktl.  Control yourself, or I shall make you wear a veil too.”

“I can’t help it, sir.”

“Think about it this way, X’Tlaktl.  What is under the blue cloth?”

“A human.”

“A human with skin.”

“Skin . . . oh,” the ticket agent’s nose deflated.  “How gross!”

“Exactly,” the manager huffed, turned, and rushed around the corner to deal with the irate customer and somehow save his job.

- Ark

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