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Chapter Thirteen: I’m Really Good at Earthian Video Games

Me and Kerfuffle got to work right away. Spork had said no messing around so that is precisely what we were going to carry out—not that I ever messed around anyway. Everything I did was always for a precise and highly logical reason.
“Gimme the phone things!”
I reached at the set of low tech sound transfer headphones that were flattening the feather fluff on Kerfuffle’s ears. It couldn’t hear me—that or it was ignoring me. Either way I climbed up there and pulled them and a feather off.
“Ow, Smiley!”
“I wanna listen!”
“But I’m—”
Spork came out of the kitchen then. It was in rather odd attire, a very strange Human cloth that looked like a dress namely. Cedric insisted it was an apron. Either way, Spork was wearing one and it seemed kinda small given its size.
“Stop arguing and work.”
“But Smiley won’t give me back my—”
“I’m the superior officer here!” I had finally pried them away and stuck them on my head. Strangely the sounds were boring and newsish. I gave it a chance—listened for a minute or two. Meanwhile I watched Spork’s mouth open and close. Made me wonder what it was saying actually. It looked grumpy as usual and was pointing at us with some sort of cooking utensil. It shook its head and returned to its cooking lair.
“Your headphones are boring.” I pulled them off and tossed them back. “Let’s play a game on the computer instead!”
“But I’m listening in to the local news to see if I can find anything about our crew.”
“Games. Now.”
Kerfuffle sighed and moved aside as I took over. Kerfuffle had yet to learn that computers were best for entertainment. You’d think being a computer tech and all, it would know this, but no, not at all.
“Look at this one!”
This particular game was about little lines that were blowing up Earth buildings. Good wholesome family fun. I cheered as the little lines collided with the buildings and demolished them in a satisfying blip of orange pixels.
“You’re supposed to protect those.” Kerfuffle interjected as it leaned over.
“Says who?” I mewed, angling an adequate glare.
Kerfuffle rolled its eyes. “Would Earthians really make a game where your goal was to destroy your own species?”
“Intuitive.”
“Do you even know what that means?”
I was quiet briefly. “Just let me enjoy my game.”
“By all means, Lieutenant.” Kerfuffle acknowledged.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed it had settled for writing in a notebook. That was fine. I batted at the screen occasionally when one of the little laser lines would move faster. Had to restart the game about ten times because I kept winning so fast. No Earthian game could slow this lieutenant down.
After some time it started getting boring. I let my gaze wander around the room. Something was missing. I remained deep in thought over this matter. Cedric returned in between this time. Roughly the same time I heard Spork exclaim something from the kitchen. It sounded angry, and if I were to guess, probably was not the most admirable use of language.
A decent cloud of smoke was also heading our way.
“What is THAT?” Cedric asked.
I heard footsteps into the kitchen. Now to hear if they would return. Nothing right away.
“That isn’t how you cook!”
Silence again, then to my surprise, Spork emerged into our room rather than Cedric.
“Hi, Spork, what happened?”
“Letting the Human finish that. It’s a task better suited to Human filth anyway.”
“Especially since you can’t cook, huh?” Kerfuffle added, its fluffy tail flopping back and forth.
Spork snarled in warning at Kerfuffle who quickly huddled itself up.
“Sorry, Corporal.”
“Shh, you’re ruining my concentration.”
“What concentration?” Spork mumbled.
“The Lieutenant is thinking, yes!”
“I didn’t ask you—Fluffle.”
“Ah. Got it. Sorry, Sir.”
Cedric joined us in our room as well now. His hair looked a tad frazzled and his square glasses were crooked.
“I swear you guys are trying to burn the house down.”
“Don’t be so easily deluded.” Spork answered. “If we wanted to do that, there are much easier ways.”
“You sir, do not cook well.”
A growl rumbled in Spork’s throat.
“Ignore him, Spork. You’re great. He’s just dumb and a Human.”
That got a sly smirk out of Spork. It flicked its tail and moved along to the sofa where it flopped down.
“Excuse me? Just a dumb human? We have made amazing discoveries, landed on the moon—”
“Yeah, yeah, congrats. I’m trying to think here.”
“Commander has been trying to for awhile.” Kerfuffle explained. “Something in the room isn’t right.”
“I can think of a number of things.” Cedric whined. “Alien cats one, two and three—”
“Cactus!” I exclaimed. “Assistant of Fluff! Where is my loyal cactus?”
“I don’t know, Miss Lieutenant.”
“Unacceptable! Find it!”
“Hey.” Cedric pointed somewhere between me and Kerfuffle, “I thought you guys were all ‘its’. The bird-cat called you miss!”
I shook my head. “Human, Human, tsk tsk, never listening. We’ve discussed this before, and if we were referring to me, I am a grill.”
“That’s girl, Lieutenant.” Kerfuffle corrected.
“Ah. Yes. What the fluffy one said.”
“You guys are confusing—”
“It sounds more alien.” Spork grumbled. “More frightening to the enemy.” It yawned and let its claws curl on the armrest of the sofa. “There’s more flexibility when we’re in the presence of our own kind.” It flicked one of its battle torn ears. “But Kerfuffle is a featherbrain.”
“I just thought the Human was our ally.” Kerfuffle pouted.
“Since when do we have allies?” Spork growled in return.
“I suppose it makes sense…” Cedric interrupted, “Like a way to ward off enemies. To make one seem more intimidating than they really are. Like how a cat fluffs its fur out to appear bigger.”
“You know about that trick?” Kerfuffle asked, eyes wide.
Spork swiped its tail against the side of our tech’s head then redirected its attention to Cedric. “Careful with your choice of words, Human.”
“Where’s Cactus?” I asked again, realizing no one had answered my question. They had only answered Cedric’s.
Everyone still ignored me. That was odd, considering I was the commander. Then all of a sudden Cedric spoke up.
“Waaait,” He had his hand cradling his chin in the way he does when he has come up with a great revelation. “Why do plantologists need to sound intimidating?”
Silence. I hadn’t anticipated that question. I tried searching my mind for an answer that would seem logical enough to a Human but headquarters seemed to have taken another very poorly timed lunch break. I was blank.
“Why does it smell like burnt cat food?” Kerfuffle asked with a twitch of its muzzle.
Never was I happier to have such a dumb thing sidetrack us, although I couldn’t give Kerfuffle any credit for having planned it. It had simply zoned out and then obviously proceeded to smell some burnt food. I smelled it now too actually.
Our gaze fell on Spork, the master chef.
“We’re similar to Earth cats. Their rations should sustain us substantially until we can get in contact with our medic.”
“You cooked cat food, really?” Cedric asked.
I wasn’t sure what was wrong with cooking cat food. I mean, Cedric cooked meat from cans so why couldn’t the aliens cook their meal as well? Racism. That’s why. I was prepared to give Cedric a lecture on the superiority of us Qwuedeviv, but that intent was utterly shattered when there was suddenly tapping at Cedric’s door.
Cedric. The guy who never had company. Of all the unlikely things…
His face turned pale as he looked back from the door to us.