Episode 7
The scene--the living room of the Average Mospheiran family. The room is empty, until Mr. and Mrs. Mospheiran, Master Mospheiran, and Bob enter from the kitchen.
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Bob, I should call your mother and compliment her. My own son could take lessons from you. He never offers to do the dishes."
Master Mospheiran: "Mom!"
Everyone sits down.
Bob: (laughs) "She wouldn’t know who you were talking about. Just yesterday she said to me, ‘Bob, why can’t you be more like that nice friend of yours?’ Besides, it’s the least I could do. I swear, Mrs. M, you make the best spaghetti on the island."
Mr. Mospheiran: "Now there’s a young man who’ll never have problems hitting it off with the ladies. Bob, maybe you don’t want to tip your chair back like that."
Bob: "Oh, you’re right. Thanks."
Mr. Mospheiran: "No problem."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "So he must be on his best behavior over at your parents’ house."
Bob: "Definitely. Even my dad likes him, and my dad doesn’t like anybody."
Mr. Mospheiran: "Bob, I hope you don’t think I’m prying, but what’s your last name? I don’t think I caught it."
Bob: "Oh, I don’t have a last name, sir. No one in my family does. It’s against our religion."
Mr. Mospheiran: "What religion would that be, if you don’t mind my asking?"
Bob: "That would be the Third Intergalactic Church of God Triumphant. My dad tried to explain to me what was wrong with last names, but it never quite made sense to me. My great-grandparents, either. They were the Second Intergalactic Church of God Triumphant, and it took them awhile to get over my grandpa being a heretic and a false apostate over that last name thing. I guess it helped that pretty nearly every church in the family believes in predestination. That way, it doesn’t matter what you do, God saves you if He wants to save you, and if you’re on the list, you can do anything you want and still be headed for heaven. Or hell, you know, depending. So if we disagree with each other, we can just privately figure the other person isn’t saved and there’s nothing anyone can do about it, so why bother arguing?"
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Why bother with church, then? Or anything, for that matter?"
Bob: "My dad tried to explain that to me, too, but I never did get it. Too stupid, I guess. He always told me he’d disown me if I ever got heretical views, but I think he’s secretly disappointed that I haven’t started my own church yet. Me being the eldest son and all."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Oh, is it common for the eldest son to start his own church?"
Bob: "In our family, yeah. My uncle Jack was always something of a disappointment--he’s my dad’s older brother. Stayed with the Third Intergalactic, just like his own father, and no sign he’s ever going to think of changing. The family pretty much thinks he’s a stick in the mud. Of course, they’re glad he’s not like the Universal Church of Church."
Mr. Mospheiran: "The what?"
Bob: "The Universal Church of Church. That would be Cousin Ted. He believes that this world is an illusion created by the atevi to ensnare human souls. A good exorcism would clear the whole thing right up, but he’s afraid to do the job himself, because then we’d all be floating around in space."
Master Mospheiran laughs.
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Don’t laugh, dear. Just because it seems strange to you doesn’t mean you can laugh at someone’s religious beliefs."
Bob: "Oh, I don’t mind, Mrs. M. Cousin Ted’s tea service is short a few cups, if you know what I mean. He’s had some run-ins with the local cops, over in the village where he lives, and they’re used to him by now."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Nothing serious, I hope."
Bob: "No, it’s just that every full moon he used to call the station complaining that there were atevi in his garden."
Master Mospheiran: "What were atevi doing in his garden?"
Bob: "Pulling weeds."
Mr. Mospheiran: "Whatever did he expect the police to do about that?"
Bob: "I don’t know. The village is sixty miles inland, there’s no way any atevi could sneak into Cousin Ted’s garden without anyone else noticing. The chief finally told him to send them over to his place, next time he sees them, ‘cause his garden’s a mess."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Well, it takes all kinds, doesn’t it."
Master Mospheiran: "Speaking of which. Is Missy still having trouble with Danny Hanks? I haven’t heard anything about him lately."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Well, she hasn’t been doing much surveillance at night, since she got that job. And I don’t know if he’s figured out where she’s working."
Mr. Mospheiran: "I’m sure he will sooner or later."
Bob: "Danny Hanks. Any relation?"
Master Mospheiran: "Yeah. The eminent S. Gaylord Hanks’ son. Thinks he owns the world. His idea of fun is to sit on a rooftop and shoot paint at anything that moves. But his preferred target is my sister." (gestures towards the window) "All that paint out there, that’s his work. He’s a one-man crime wave, just ask his dad and the Jackson police."
Bob gets up from his chair and looks out the window. He whistles appreciatively.
Bob: "Sweet on her, is he?"
Mr. Mospheiran: "Apparently."
Bob: "Is she not interested?"
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Not in the least. He follows her around and shoots paint at her every night, and then lies about her to the police. Or he used to. Since she started working evenings, she hasn’t been around much. Bob, maybe you don’t want to lean on the window like that."
Bob: "Oh, gosh, thanks Mrs. M."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Don’t mention it."
We hear a banging noise from under the living room floor.
Master Mospheiran: "We’d better get a move on. I promised to drive Mrs. Gilchrist to the demonstration."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "What demonstration?"
Master Mospheiran: "A lot of people are really angry about what Gaylord Hanks said the other night on The Bitter Truth. Seems like kids at a lot of different schools have started Foreign Studies Clubs lately, and they do a lot of volunteering at hospitals and nursing homes, helping out people in the neighborhood, planting flowers in the parks, that sort of thing."
Mr. Mospheiran: "What does that have to do with Foreign Studies?"
Master Mospheiran: "Beats me, but the people they’ve been helping seem pretty upset that Gaylord Hanks is calling them criminals and telling parents to make them stop playing atevi, when it’s the ones playing atevi who are being so helpful. Three different nursing homes are busing people over to the television station, and lots of students are going, of course. And Mrs. Gilchrist."
Mr. Mospheiran: "That old witch? Why does she care? You’d think she’d be all for Hanks, the way she complains about the vandalism."
Master Mospheiran: "Well, she told me that a little paint was worth it, because if Missy goes to prison there won’t be anybody to take out her trash."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Isn’t it an odd time of day for a demonstration? And why the television station?"
Mr. Mospheiran: "Oh, I don’t know. They’ll be right on time for the evening news. And they’re going to the right place, if they want cameras."
More banging from the floor.
Master Mospheiran: (yells at the floor) "We’re coming right down, Mrs. Gilchrist!"
Bob: "Thanks for the spaghetti, Mrs. M, it was delicious."
Mrs. Mospheiran: "Any time, Bob. You boys be careful."
Master Mospheiran: "We will. See you."
Master Mospheiran and Bob exit through the front door, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Mospheiran to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.