Culture War (3 page)

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Authors: Walter Knight

Tags: #science fiction military war alien spider cultural contimanation cultural icons taco bell pizza hut starbucks coffee skateboarding interspecies marriage

BOOK: Culture War
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As Major Lopez and Corporal Wayne entered the
Angry Onion Tavern, Private Krueger pointed to his fiancée. The
petite Dawn was playing pool with some other Hell’s Angels. “There
she is,” said Private Krueger. “Are you going to bitch-slap her
now?”


Shut up, or I’ll
bitch-slap
you
,” answered Major Lopez, reassessing his
tactics. “We need to handle this diplomatically. Females are very
sensitive. They are less rational than males, and tend to take the
slightest criticism personally. For your own safety, try not to
upset her.”


Be careful, sir,” warned
Private Krueger. “She has a pool stick in her claw.”


Dawn!” called out Major
Lopez, smiling broadly. “I need to talk to you. Could you please
step outside for a minute?”


You must be friends of
Willie,” said Dawn, rushing to wrap four loving arms around Private
Krueger. “Is the major going to be your best man at our wedding?
It’s a silly custom, but I’ll tolerate it, if it makes you happy,
Willie.”


The wedding is exactly
what I want to talk to you about,” said Major Lopez. “Willie’s
commanding officer, Colonel Czerinski, has not yet given permission
for Private Krueger to get married. Colonel Czerinski has some
concerns about your youth.”


He better give
permission,” said Dawn. The tavern went silent as bikers gathered
around, hoping to see a good fight. Several wagers were immediately
placed on Dawn to kill Major Lopez. “If Czerinski doesn’t sign the
wedding certificate, I’ll rip his off his head and poop down his
neck! You had better talk to the colonel for us. We are so much in
love, I can’t wait to get married!”


I’ll do my best,” promised
Major Lopez.


You are a handsome
hairball,” gushed Dawn, happy now. “I have a sister. Would you be
interested in meeting her? She is gorgeous, and even has a real
job.”


Sorry,” said Major Lopez,
crossing himself and sprinting for the door. “I’m catholic. It
would be a sin!”


Religious zealot!” shouted
Dawn as the legionnaire commandos quickly followed Lopez out. “What
a waste of a fine hunk of male human pestilence.”

 

* * * * *

 


What in the hell are you
doing up there in New Gobi City?” asked General Daniel Daley,
speaking on the phone. “I have commanders all along the DMZ, but
only you manage to shoot down unarmed spider aircraft! Are you
trying to start another war?”


No, sir,” I answered. “The
helicopter was spraying poppy fields on our side of the
DMZ.”


So what?” asked General
Daly. “Good riddance, if the spiders want to eradicate those
poppies for us. The bottom line is, you shot down an unarmed
aircraft in violation of our treaty, and now it’s all over the news
and TV.”


Sorry, sir,” I said. “We
had a tip that the spiders were going to bomb the Free Colorado
radio station.”


And why in hell would the
spiders want to do that?” asked General Daly. “I am sick and tired
of all this bad press. It seems like every day it’s something new.
Today I turn on the TV, and some poor broken-hearted spider girl is
crying to the press that you won’t sign a marriage certificate
allowing one of your legionnaires to marry her. Sign that
certificate now! I don’t care if she is a spider.”


But sir, Private Krueger
does not want to marry her,” I explained. “He says she is coercing
him.”


Coercing him?” asked
General Daly. “What kind of pansies do you have in your battalion?
I do not want to hear his sad story. Sign that certificate. He’s
getting married, and that’s an order!”


How about I transfer
Private Krueger to the South Pole?” I suggested.


How about I transfer you
both to the South Pole?” threatened General Daly. “I am not in the
habit of repeating myself to subordinates, but already I find
myself ordering you a third time to sign that marriage certificate.
This could be the public-relations bonanza I’ve been looking for.
In fact, I think it would be a nice touch for you to send a Legion
honor guard to the wedding. Take a lot of pictures. With luck, we
can get some good press out of this fiasco yet. You will handle
that personally.”


Not if Dawn eats Private
Krueger on their honeymoon,” I argued. “What if that
happens?”


Then he will be AWOL and
brought up on charges!” answered General Daly, slamming his hand
down on his desk. “Spiders don’t eat humans. Although, I heard
legionnaires under your command eat spiders. Is that
true?”


Those charges were
dismissed at trial for lack of evidence. I have been ordered to not
discuss the matter for reasons of national security.”


I can see I need to read
your personnel file closer. I’m sure it’s full of all kinds of
interesting facts and tidbits. I am going to keep an eye on
you!”

 

back to top

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 


The most destructive
influence on Arthropodan culture may not be blue powder,” commented
the spider governor. “I think human pestilence satellite TV does
even more damage.”


We can’t shoot down their
satellites,” cautioned the spider commander of the New Gobi Desert
sector. “That would cause a war.”


Of course not,” agreed the
governor. “But we can ban private ownership of all satellite
dishes.”


That would leave us with
just the Imperial Cable TV Network,” said the spider commander. “Do
you realize how boring that would be? The public would be driven to
drink. I would be, too. Think about the effect mass liver disease
would have on our culture.”


Your argument fails to
impress me,” said the governor. “I signed the new law today.
Commanders will confiscate all satellite dishes and receivers in
their sectors.”


But sir, the World Series
is tied at three games,” complained the spider commander. “We’ll
miss the last game. Do you have any idea how much money has been
bet on the Yankees? I don’t want to miss that game.”


I’ve been so busy, I
forgot all about the World Series,” conceded the governor. “Good
point. Confiscate the satellite dishes next week.”


What about pre-season
football?” asked the spider commander. “Cable doesn’t carry the NFL
either.”


We all have to make
sacrifices,” said the governor. “There is nothing I can do. The
Emperor himself ordered the ban.”


But all cable TV offers is
soccer,” protested the spider commander. “Watching human pestilence
Euro-trash riot at halftime is the only interesting part of the
game.”


Maybe we can get cable TV
to carry local sporting events like high school or college
football,” said the governor. “In the meantime, you have your
orders.”


I suppose I could watch
the golf channel,” said the spider commander, slumping in his
chair.


That’s the spirit,” said
the governor, before hanging up. “I knew I could depend on
you.”

 

* * * * *

 

Just before the start of the final game of
the World Series, the spider commander ordered pizza delivered from
Pizza Hut to his office. However, Pizza Hut told him they could no
longer deliver pizza because the Teamsters Union was on strike and
would only make deliveries to the military if there was a national
emergency.


But this is an emergency,”
insisted the spider commander. “The game is about to begin. I don’t
even have hotdogs or buffalo wings.”


Sorry, sir,” said the
Pizza Hut employee. “No exceptions.”


How about
nachos?”


No, sir.”

The spider commander slammed down the phone.
Starving, he put a bag of popcorn into the microwave. He salivated
at the thought of the extra butter and salt promised on the fine
print of package. When the popcorn was ready, the spider commander
plopped down on the couch to enjoy the game and have a beer.


Go Yankees!” he shouted at
the TV screen. Between innings, the spider commander gave some
thought to the fears of cultural contamination. “Idiocy! The
Emperor is afraid we are all becoming Americans. So what? The
Empire should seize the best and discard the worst of the lands it
conquers. That will make the Empire even stronger. There is nothing
to fear! It’s under control.”

 

* * * * *

 

The Angry Onion Tavern was packed with
customers watching the World Series on a big-screen TV. They dined
on beer and hotdogs. There would have been even more customers
watching, but the tavern was still off-limits to the Arthropodan
military. The MDL painted down the middle of the tavern floor
divided the noisy American side from the quieter Arthropodan side.
It was a stark contrast.

Guido was still on duty at the border
crossing, so he set up a satellite dish TV outside his guard shack
and pointed it across the MDL for his spider guard friends. Spider
border guards gathered to cheer for the Yankees. Guido accepted
last-minute bets right up until the first pitch.


It figures you spiders
would be betting on the Evil Empire to win this game,” said Guido.
“Go Boston!”

The rowdy crowd of spiders booed Guido and
gave him the one-fingered salute. Everyone was having a good time
rooting for the Yankees until late in the game when an Arthropodan
marine team leader strode up to the MDL.


What goes on here?” asked
the team leader. “Is anyone bothering to patrol the border
today?”


Not on our side,” said
Guido. “Since there’s no more truck traffic, there is nothing to
do. We’re all just watching the World Series.”


What’s the score?” asked
the team leader.


Seven to five, New York in
the seventh inning,” answered Guido. “But their pitcher is getting
tired.”


Yes!” said the team
leader. “New York is money in the bank. Now everyone get back to
work! Protecting the border from the human pestilence is a serious
matter! Don’t you know there is a no-fraternization order in
effect?”

The spider border guards dispersed until the
team leader left. Then, most returned for the rest of the game. The
Evil Empire (New York Yankees) won eight to seven in the tenth
tie-breaker inning.

 

* * * * *

 

A large human carrying a pizza box entered
the spider commander’s office and placed the pizza on the
commander’s desk. He was accompanied by a small spider wearing
sunglasses and a fedora.


That smells like a
pepperoni and sausage pizza with extra cheese,” commented the
spider commander. “Poor timing, the game is over. Who are
you?”


I am Carlos O’Neil,”
replied the large human. “I am the Teamsters business agent for
local #107 here in New Gobi City. This is my associate, Mr.
Kennworth. I heard you were refused delivery of a pizza, so I came
by to make amends.”

The spider commander opened the pizza box
slightly. It contained a delicious pizza and a bundle of cash. He
quickly closed the box. “I’ll bet you want the border
reopened.”


We have trucks parked
along the freeway for miles on both sides of the MDL,” said Carlos.
“It would be nice.”


And if I refuse?” asked
the spider commander.

Mr. Kennworth opened the pizza box and
removed a pizza slice with a long jagged knife. He ate the pizza
delicately, savoring each bite. “That is not an option,” he
explained.


I see,” said the spider
commander, giving thought to just shooting these two fools. But, he
was planning on opening the border to traffic soon anyway, and that
pizza looked too good to risk spilling human pestilence blood on
it. The spider commander decided he would keep the money and the
pizza. “Consider the border opened as of now. And, consider
yourselves under arrest for making threats to a government
official.”

Spider marines rushed in as the commander set
off an alarm. Carlos O’Neil and Mr. Kennworth spent the night in
jail. They were both released in the morning. Mr. Kennworth was
warned to never set foot in North New Gobi City, or he would be
shot on sight. Carlos was instructed to deliver sausage and
pepperoni with extra cheese pizza once a month, with more cash.

 

back to top

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Air Wing Pilot #82, flying the latest
Arthropodan fighter jet star craft along the DMZ, suddenly broke
formation from his squadron and veered south across the MDL. The
jet fighter accelerated, adding distance from the other fighters.
His fellow pilots declined to give chase. Already, Legion
anti-aircraft batteries were locked in and targeting them.

Air Wing Pilot #82 flew directly toward the
Legion airfield at New Phoenix. He broadcast a Mayday signal until
making radio contact with Legion air control. “I wish to defect,”
said #82. “I wish to collect the five-million-dollar reward for
delivering an intact top-secret Air Wing star fighter. I wish to
live in Montana and raise cows. I wish to be an American cowboy. I
wish to live on the range where the deer and the antelope
play!”

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