The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil (4 page)

“Hey, stop it!” shouted Old Gus. “My scar will show!”

“He’s very sensitive about his scar,” said Wanda.

But Leon kept tugging on Old Gus’s shirt, and soon both nations could plainly see Old Gus’s scar, and hear, from his Entwhistle Slit, the whirring noise that meant he was frustrated beyond speech and would any second now burst into tears while emitting clouds of green steam from his Leftmost Vent.

“Oh, that’s enough,” said Wanda, taking a swat at Leon’s pointy hat.

“My God, Leon’s under attack!” shouted Larry, and rushed into the Short-Term Residency Zone, causing

Carol and Cal to inadvertently reinvade Outer Horner and Leon to bash his right Brow Clip into his own spadelike tail. Leon sprung from the hole, hatless and terrified, with a swollen bleeding Brow Clip, having failed to collect the taxes, and dove back into Outer Horner, while Phil heroically rescued Larry by pulling him out of the Short-Term Residency Zone by his belt loops.

Both sides stood gasping on their respective sides of the green string, shocked at this sudden outburst of violence.

Phil stamped his foot, and his brain slid down his rack and rolled across the ground, and his central bladder inflated to the bursting point, and his Phalen Extender began slapping back and forth against his secondary spout.

“Your disgraceful attitude!” he bellowed in the stentorian voice, “being the result of centuries of taking our people for granted, habitually manifests itself in arrogance, an arrogance that has as its seed the apparent belief that we are less than you and must be subjugated. But we will not be subjugated! We are a noble people, of ancient lineage, and have a right to live and thrive, whereas you, who would take away our right to live and thrive, I’m not sure about you, I’m not sure that you have not, over the long years of taking advantage of our simple generous nature, forfeited certain rights having to do with your continued existence!”

Now, Larry knew Phil from high school, and knew that the longer Phil’s brain stayed off, the less sense he would make, until finally his brain-rack would spasm and he would run totally out of juice. Once, Phil had run out of juice during a swim meet and sunk to the bottom of the pool, after which he had been winched out of the pool and connected to a Farley ReMotivator. For weeks afterward, the popular kids had mocked Phil mercilessly, even inventing a dance called The Phil, which involved making an awkward desperate jerky motion with one’s torso, which, apparently, was what he had done while on the Farley ReMotivator.

“Phil, sir?” Larry said now, meekly. “May I remount your brain for you?”

“This is not about my brain!” shouted Phil. “It’s these idiots who’ve got the brain problem. They owe us taxes! And have refused via violence to pay those taxes! In light of the heinous events of this outrageous day, which shall henceforth be known as Dark Dark Thursday, but also in light of the valor we Outer Hornerites have shown on this memorable and historic day, which will henceforth also be known as Amazing Heroic Thursday, I hereby declare a Federal Tax Mercifulness Occasion. An FTMO. Yes, an FTMO of celebration. That’s it. And I declare this FTMO not out of fear, not at all, but out of pride, pride in our strength! Let us return to the capital on this joyous FTMO, to celebrate our astonishing victory!”

And Phil, carrying his brain under one arm, led his flustered Militia away from the border, hissing at them now and then to stop looking back so fearfully over their shoulders.

That evening Phil stormed around the disgusting southern portion of Outer Horner City in a frenzy. His brain had been knocked out of round by its recent smashing and sat crookedly in its rack, and now and then a spark flew out of his nosehole and his Phalen Extender flipped up for no apparent reason. Those stupid Inner Hornerites! How he hated them! Wasn’t it just like them to sit like inert slugs on borrowed land, then suddenly erupt into inexplicable pointless violence! Here he was, finally starting to get a little something for himself, and they dared openly mock the authority of the President’s Special Border Activities Coordinator, via bloodying Leon’s Brow Clip? It was so frustrating! If only there was no Inner Horner, the Border Area would look so nice, and he could move on to more substantial Border Area issues, such as making the Border Area look even nicer. And he imagined the Border Area free of Inner Hornerites, enhanced by a Museum, a Museum of Outer Horner Culture, and in front of the Museum would stand a statue of him, Phil, and around the statue he imagined a group of swooning Outer Horner girls, with that classic Outer Horner beauty, and just as he was, in his mind, about to approach them and introduce himself as Phil, founder of the Museum and President of the nation, he turned a corner and almost ran into two enormous young men with rippling biceps and cruel beautiful faces, being methodically covered in mud by a tiny old woman on a ladder.

“Forget it, I’m not hiring,” the old woman said. “I’ve got enough. I’ve got two. Two is plenty.”

“I’m not looking for work,” Phil said. “I’m the Special Border Activities Coordinator.”

“Sure you are, sure you are,” said the old woman. “And I’m the Queen of Mud.”

“Why are you doing that?” said Phil.

“We’re testing it out,” she said. “To see if it’s good. Look close. See how some of it’s runny and some of it’s nice and firm?”

“Why do you care?” Phil said.

“Why do we care!” she said. “You’d think you’d know that, if you’re really the Special Activities Border Whatever Whatever. We care because we gotta write it on the package. Either ‘Runny’ or ‘Nice, Firm.’ That’s why. Now move along. I’m not hiring.”

“How much do you fellows get paid for this?” Phil asked the enormous muscular young men.

“Don’t talk to them,” the old woman said. “They’re on the clock. They don’t get paid nothing. They’re apprentices. When they really learn how to do it, then they get paid.”

“Not much of a job,” said Phil.

“Well, sir, it’s a living,” said the first mud-covered young man.

“Anyways, it will be,” said the second. “Someday. After our apprenticeships.”

“And it sure beats being back home,” said the first.

“Back home, when Ma covered us in mud or grease or lard?” said the second. “Not only did we not get paid, she’d yell at us while she did it.”

“Edna never yells at us,” said the first.

“Well, I like you boys,” said Edna. “You boys have potential.”

“Did you hear that, Vance?” said the first boy. “Edna said we have potential.”

“Wow, I am so moved by that,” said Vance. “Jimmy, can you imagine Ma ever saying something that nice to us?”

“The only nice thing Ma ever said to us?” said Jimmy. “Was once she said we looked slightly better in lard than in mud.”

“Guys,” said Phil. “You look pretty strong. Are you pretty strong?”

“Oh, we’re strong,” said Vance.

“Not to brag,” said Jimmy, “but we really are strong. Watch this, sir.”

And Jimmy lifted Edna between two fingers and set her on top of his head.

“All right, all right, mister comedian,” said Edna. “Put me down. Back to work.”

Jimmy put Edna down and she climbed back up her ladder and again started applying mud to his neck.

“Maybe you guys would like to come work for me,” said Phil.

“What?” said Jimmy. “Wow, I can’t believe it. On the very same day, Edna says we have potential and this guy tries to hire us!”

“Pretty big day, all right,” said Vance.

“What exactly would we have to do, sir?” said Jimmy.

“Well,” said Phil. “You’d be sort of like special friends of mine. Like bodyguards. You’d just do whatever I told you. Out at the Inner Horner border. I do a lot of work out at the Border, national security work.”

“Bodyguards, wow!” said Jimmy. “National security work, wow! No offense, Edna, but I think bodyguard sounds even more impressive than Mud-Consistency Testing Associate.”

“You boys aren’t smart enough,” said Edna.

“You’re probably right,” said Vance.

“Oh, they’re smart enough,” said Phil. “They’re exactly the level of smart I’m looking for.”

“Wow, Vance, did you hear that?” said Jimmy. “We’re exactly the right level of smart!”

“Edna, we have to try it,” said Vance. “Don’t you see? This could be our big chance. Sir, how much would you pay?”

“Vance, God, don’t be pushy,” said Jimmy. “We don’t necessarily have to get paid.”

“A smoloka each,” said Phil.

“Wow, that’s pretty good,” said Vance. “A whole smoloka. I mean, if we could make it last, that could be really good. Jimmy, if we wanted to make that one smoloka last the rest of our lives, how much would we be allowed to spend each day?”

“Well, that depends on how long we’re going to live,” said Jimmy. “And we don’t know that yet.”

“He’s better at math than me,” explained Vance.

“I don’t think you understand,” said Phil. “That’s a smoloka a day. One smoloka for every day you work. It’s a salary.”

“Holy cow!” said Vance. “A smoloka a day! For every day we work! A salary! So that would be like, seven smolokas a week, if we worked seven days a week, right? Are there still seven days in a week? Anyway, wow, we’d be rich. And all we have to do is do whatever you say?”

“That would be easy for us,” said Jimmy. “Ask Edna. Edna, wouldn’t you say we’re really good at doing whatever someone says?”

“They’re excellent,” said Edna. “Very obedient. Whatever you tell them to do, they immediately do it.”

“That’s because if we didn’t do exactly what Ma said, she made us sleep in the yard with the dogs,”

Vance said. “And we had pretty mean dogs. And a pretty yucky yard.”

“Right at the edge of a cliff,” said Jimmy.

“Lost a lot of dogs that way,” said Vance.

“So anyways we got excellent at obeying,” said Jimmy.

“Watch this,” said Vance. “Watch how obedient. Sir, tell us to do something. Anything.”

“Tear down that shack,” said Phil.

“This one?” said Vance. “This one here with the cute little rose garden?”

And Vance and Jimmy tore down the shack with their bare hands, with amazing speed, revealing a family sitting in their pajamas at a crooked kitchen table.

“What in the world?” said the father.

“Don’t even think about mouthing off to my brother, man!” shouted Vance.

“And don’t even think about mouthing off to my brother, man!” shouted Jimmy, and lifted up the father by one leg, after which the father got very quiet.

“You’re hired,” said Phil.

“Ha!” said Jimmy, dropping the father back in the rubble that had been his shack. “What an amazing day.”

“Hang on, Jimmy,” said Vance. “I have an additional request. Before we sign on.”

“Vance, jeez!” whispered Jimmy. “Don’t get all demanding! You’ll screw it up!”

“Jimmy, don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” said Vance. “What I want, sir, to, uh, request, additionally? Is that, every now and then, you say something nice about us. If that’s not too much. Like you could say something about how much potential we have, or how obedient we are, it doesn’t even need to be true. Just something nice to us every day.”

“We didn’t get much of that at home,” said Jimmy. “Mostly it was just, you know, Jimmy you jerk, how did you get so dumb? That sort of thing.”

“Or like: Vance, you’re pathetic, why did you even have to be born,” said Vance.

“Or like: Jimmy, if I had to throw either you or one of the dogs off the cliff, I’d throw you,” said Jimmy.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Phil. “Every day, in addition to your smoloka, I’ll say something nice about each of you.”

“About each of us?” said Vance. “Oh wow, I was just thinking you’d say something nice about one of us. Like one per day? Alternating? But now you’re saying you’ll say something nice about each of us every single day? Plus the smoloka?”

“A smoloka each,” said Phil. “Do you understand that?”

“A smoloka each?” said Jimmy.

“Wow,” said Vance. “Wow wow wow. I’m getting dizzy here.”

“You dream and you dream,” said Jimmy. “And one day it all comes true.”

“Well, Edna,” said Vance. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“We’ve got to do it, Edna,” said Jimmy. “Don’t you see? Please don’t be mad.”

“Don’t sweat it,” said Edna. “You’ll be easy to replace.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” said Jimmy.

“We’re certainly nothing special,” said Vance.