Eyclth in the month of Broog.
I have arrived at last at the lone, dismal plod-port of this planet, and watch the trok-barge leave with great admixture of feelings. Oh! the fire of adventure, how fiercely it burns, yet how quickly is it put out by the watery slurry of loneliness! And no-where in all the uni-verse is a Splarg more alone than in that dismal backwater called by the brute natives Errth. But I am resolute, and shall not give in to despair. My splargian rationality, so cultivated by our Distinguished Tutors, persuades me of the inevitability of my success. My form is masked beneath a wunggdraclowk of fabulous ingenuity, whose techna veil shall never be pierced by the most intrusive and rude methods that the Natives possess. I am well equipped with both provisions and defensive techna, and my unburdened use of my rational minds will lead me to use both as dictated by Providence.
The secrets of this murmured-after, near-fictional city that have whispered its way to our ears even unto the hollowed halls of Melthachung will be in my many-grasp before the mooncycles wander through a full pass. I will be home by chrysalmass, and shall propose to you, dearest Frrreee, with the knowledge of Nu You’rek as gift to your father.
Tremmelith in the month of Broog.
Near-disaster, dear Frrreee! In my haste to acquire transport, I came within an inch of losing my life! Quite solicitations and the bribes of a few papery and plastic trinkets to the local gossip-mongers of the street-corners told me that the fastest means to travel north (where Nu You’rek is rumoured to lie, though none of the savages I asked could give me precise coordinates, relying as they may on their rudimentary and primitive metriks for guidance, like the careless children they are, ignorant of love and lurf as they are gifts given not naturally, but in the name of Hrrrrrfsyrup, our Lurfener and Lifesalver, He of the Unblemished and Broken Caraplating and Caresser of our Brainstems and Bodies), and anyways you are put into a very big box – made of steels, of all things! – and shipped away like plapple set for the platter at your father’s manor.
Made of steel! A most curious tale, and all the stranger that they believe it so fully. Would you credit it, sweet, mindless Frrree, that these heathen hyyu-men even dare to say that the whole of the city of Nu You’rek is crafted of such material? As if there were enough in all Splargadia to make so much as a house! One might as well claim that one could produce light with a flick of a switch, and not by focusing the implant graciously permitted to be installed in one’s forehead at the behest of the Priechery of the Provident and most kind Lurfener Hrrrrfsyrip – but of course, you are female, and thus unknowing of these things or much else, dear sweetling, since your father consumed your forebrain when you were a Splarglor. But I digress from my tale, and must continue post-haste, else this Dimling grow too lengthsome for the telethinkers to transmit and they complain to me of care-worn lobes and request additional compensations. My moneys are better spent here on bribes to the locals, for even they, in their primitive stupidity, admire and covet the splendid coins of our people.
You see, adorable Frrreee, as I searched for the terminal of this buhss, I was accosted by a dangerous mad-man, who in their ineffable and munificent stupidities, the lazy and shiftless men of the villament allowed to roam free. “Spare change, meister?” he did ask me. Yes, you hear awright, Frrreee, my honeyslurple: this madman demanded a full removal-and-replacement of my chitenholm, and did so in full public, without so much as a batted eye given in his direction. Lurfener save us from the perfidies of savages, children, and madman! I am a restrained and peaceable Splarg as you know too well, Frrreee, and yet I was scant able to prevent myself from thrashing the blackguard in twain. Only the piteous shrieks the poor wretch emitted in his sorrow and alarum, and the attendant charge of insipid would-be-sympathizers, saved him from becoming one of the Many Unfortunates who die un-slathered by the Priecheresters and are condemned to eternal Spaff. I was forced to hide amidst the dank brick jungles of the villament to escape my pursuit, and will begin to head north tomorrow on good solid feet, as the Lurf intended. By the time I return for home (hopefully laden with the treasures of knowledge and wealth that will be the key to your father’s cold, rotted middle-heart, Frrreee), the whole incident will have passed from the fickle minds of the residents and I may depart the plod-port unmolested by troubles and of carefree mind.
Temeltremmelith in the ha-month of Broog.
My pseudopodonous footpendages grow wearisome, Frrreee. The paths the locals have littered the landscape with are long and gruelling, and they are most arrogant in their presumed claim to exclusive use. I can scarcely walk down the middle without some manner of savage jabbering abuse at me from the safety of his metallic transportation – but this is the true news, and it is not just any metal, beautiful Frrreee: it is steel! Yes, steel, and I saw it with my own five eyes – no fable, no half-heard rumour, no child’s tale! Think of what this means, Frrreee! Nu You’rek may be fact and not fancy after all, your father’s moneyed lust sated, our union permitted! If even a tenth of the wealth of this city is as it is promised to be (which I can full believe, with the sheer swarming quantity of these strange steel-wheeled transports I have seen, which the locals call in their rough tongue “karrs”), I may even be able to bribe my way to a post of authoritation!
A short entry for now, sweetness – I believe that I am being given some sort of rude direction in flashing lights. One of the steel-machines is slowing to speak with me! Perhaps its driver shall be less uncouth than the common
Temellemontremmelithith in the ha-ho-month of Broog.
I apologize and beg your forgiveness, gentle, unassuming, reader, but I was accosted by the most vile of brigands, and found myself mostshackled firmly in the back of a karr before I could so much as hail-and-good-day to its brutish driver. I believe him to be even less evolved than his fellows; he is a burly, insipid fellow with a bulging jawmount and a most detestable air of superiority that would be looked upon as arrogant even in a well-assured Splarg of later years and great personal authority. In this primitive, it is putting on airs of the worst and foulest kind, and the high-handed method with which he recited his tribal chant while laying hands upon my person was quite un-appealing.
I shall dismantle and un-plate him the moment I am unshackled. You know me to not be a Splarg of violence, my honeyslurple, but this creature tests me greatly, and no rational being would disallow my use of force in reclaiming decorum.
Aha, I am to be released! I shall embark upon my punishment.
Ip in the month of Broog.
My kindest, most orificed Frrreee.
There has been little time to write this past qui-monthlette; it seems that the man I struck down occupied some manner of rank in the local community, and I was obliged to freeflee post-haste, only to be caught again and thrown into dankest, darkest imprisonment! Alas, I, like the Lurfener, am now subject to the torments of an unjust and unreasoning system supported on the backs of goons and captained by degenerate and unthinking creatures lifted high above the status to which Providence had assigned them, in its infinite and incomprehensible majesty.
After an exhaustingly long trial, I have been imprisoned in a small cell made from some manner of brittle, easily split substance, which I shall splinter with some of my techna – thankfully, the stupid Natives had not thought to frisk under my wunggdraclowk! I will begin drilling my way to freedom within the hurrr, and hope to be away and over the horizon by sunslip. This time I shall stay off the karr-trails, and proceed by celestial navigation.
Hup in the month of Broog.
Nu You’rek, Frrreee! I am here! It was nearer than I’d thought, less fleeting than I’d feared! Why, a scant detour from the plod-port – from a crash, for instance – would’ve landed me right in the heart of the shining city of steel. Yes, steel, Frrreee – the legends were true! And it is not the only one, I am assured (though with equal surety, it is stated to be the grandest of all by my informants, who, uncouth though they be, proclaim themselves experts in such things, and whose judgement we must assume to be punctilious and correct for the moment, lacking the input of those who might be said to be wiser, such as your father, may he splag for many years and live amongst the comfort of the grandchildrets, which, Dearest Frrreee, I hope that you and I will consent to provide him, together, after we embrace one another in the tender grips of matrimoistness, to the great celebration of our friends, comrades, relation and family) and then I found five of their strange dolars that they lust after just lying on the sidewalk, so rich did they consider themselves! But I digress.
I sleep in the shade of soaring spires tonight, Frrreee – cold and beautiful with wealth, so unlike the humble bioscrapers of home, with their svelte plankton ducts and plump, homey vesicles. But by tomorrow, these awful secrets will be secret no more, and warm familiarity shall illuminate the gluttering fescidness of their innardparts..
Na in the month of Broog.
Today I met with the chief of one of the great corepourette tribes – a proud group that claims one of the mightiest of the steel giants in the city. This man, by title the See-Eee-Oh, was the first of these Natives that I have found striking in any way complimentary – his features were pleasantly assymetrical, his eyes piquantly small and pleasingly beetled, and his hideous internal caraplating was coated so thoroughly in smoothed blubbermeats that its horridness was barely apparent to me throughout our meeting.
Reaching such a great man, of course, was a most difficult endeavour, even with the aid of Providence. Such bribes I paid, Frrreee! My pazzle has not been so empty of coins since I was a mere Splargar on the verge of disemsuffixation, and I confess that the empty jink-jank of its coins spent in the pursuit of knowledge has become (daringly!) sweeter a sound to my audioholes than any contented squeak of a well-stuffed wallet.
The audience went as well as could be demanded, reader. I proposed a simple trade: as many of my shiny trinkets as his people wanted for as much of their precious, sumptuous steel as they would part with. I was coy, of course – it pays little to let children and savages know how dear you value their possessions, lest they become greedy and unfair in their dealings with proper folk. I told him tall tales that would make your maticles curl, Frrreee – of how my people had so much steel that we would even use it as cutlery, or for trifling things like public transit lines, or how our very wealthiest would even fashion entire furnishings out of it! He was quite impressed, and claimed that for a modest fee, he would put me in contact with another corepour-nation that dealt heavily in that most precious of metals. I gladly doled out his payment and hailed him farewell in the patois of his people that I had learned, wishing him good luck in acquiring for himself some manner of tail (the Natives, poor, envious things that they are, lack such, even though much of Errth’s fauna does not). It seemed to please him, as he watched me leave in respectful noiseabsence.
I must make haste! It is a long walk, and my footpendages grow flurrisome with the chill of this place. I shall write again soon, fear not.
Ak in the month of Broog.
Disaster, Frrreee! After a long, nightmarish trek through the cold bowels of Noo Yourk (upon careful examination of the Native’s language patterns, I have accordingly adjusted my spelling), I finally came to the dwelling-scraper of the corepourette tribe to which I was referred, only to find them abandoning their position for the eve! I made inquiries as to what emergency could require this, but was brushed off with fearfully rolling eyes and exaggerated grimaces. No commentary could be made but for hasty, half-heard mutters, and I was ignored as they fled.
It was at this point, Frrree, where I confess that my hastefulness – always a flaw, so our family Priecherester told me – got the better of myself. “Fine,” I told myself, “so the savages flee. There is no terror in this place that cannot be weathered by a hardy Splarg as myself, and I shall conduct as fair a trade as can be enacted by any, judged true by all.” And so doing this, I left my entire wallet, plus a deed of credit, and prepared to extract the steel from the building by means of my technameantle, for miniaturiziting and carryment homewards.
I had just turned on my machinery, after gingerly destructmantling the front portalcullis, when a shrill sound began to nag at my head, just at the upper registrata of my hearment. It was most alarming, and it only seemed to grow louder as large, oddly-shaped chunks of steel began to shred their way through the walls and hurl themselves violently into the miniaturnmatorium. My attention was quickly drawn from the alarming sound and towards the imminent collapse of the ceiling upon my head – for what reason this disaster occurred I cannot say, and I must resign myself to assuming it to the mysterious demands of Providence, which to those unenlightened must often appear as fickle whims of fate. I barely managed to escapement myself through the splenchwards wall before the roof of the building collapsed, and had to take myself away at a dead run as the whole magnificent structure folded itself into a mangled ruin, cause unknown. A devastating sight, darling Frrreee – and not just for the loss of wealth, for I had a good sixteen chunks of steel in my pazzle, each originally larger than I am by approximately 12% and a good eight times my size as I appeared to the savages, swathed in my wunggdraclowk. Wealth beyond imagining was mine, but, tender-heartsed as only I can be, Frrreee, I could feel many a pang in my appendix for the poor peoples of that corepour-nation, now homeless and doomed to dispersion and extinction after the inexplicable collapse of their dwelling. Such terrors may never occur at home, Frrreee (at least, not after the great bio-gluing-edict of Hrakzefflepithecus the Fearsomely Paffed, which mandated that a house be made of sufficient firmness to withstand the loss of up to eighty percent of its superstructure on pain of decaraplating and liquefaction for use as his personal wax), and I know it is only brute ignorance that enables these tragedies, but I still feel for those poor, foolish savages, empathetic as I am.
I depart for the plod-port. I have wealth enough in steel and knowledge, and I cannot bear to stay and witness such suffering and chaos. Hark! Flashing lights! I had best abscond, lest I draw the attention of uncouth gadabouts.
Hikapeckleasophagusmackerateernapplemorgaphilldillynorperstraughgerhacklefipkipbik in the demi-qua-sali-fo-rth-meg-arung-nep-monthoidlette of Broogsquared.
My last entry for this trip on a strange place in a strange space, this Errth, Frrreee. I sit in the plod-port, awaiting a glok-barge’s preparations for return to Splargadia, and all I can think of is your darling belly-face (and your adorable little maticles – but such salacious talk would turn bright green the face of any gentle readers, and I must cease such nonsense before it flushes with embarrassment my text entire).
I have been hunted, and I have been hated. The howling mobs here understand nothing, and what they do not understand, they fear. I have brought them wealth and a hint of a much larger uni-verse, and in return, I have received naught but abuse. I suffer as the Larf did, Frrreee (praised be His ripps), and for no less worthy a cause: the bringing of knowledge. Knowledge, true, pure, brilliantly illuminating Splargian knowledge will be these people’s saviour, Frrree, and it will only be delivered if they are known to require it.
This journal will be my gift to the poor, starving creatures of this queer Errth. It is a plea to the noble society of Splarg itself to take up the burden that is its own greatness, for every soul and ha-soul within it to descend to the depths of suffering and remove it. We must tame these poor creatures, so they may be educated, so they may be lifted up from their natural lowliness into the edges of a grander society such as ours.
They must know the teachings of the Priecherester, they must know the discipline of an oversubduest such as your father and mine, and finally, when obedience and learning has been beaten into their tired, wretched hides, they must feel the pity and grace of the Lurfener, Hrrrrfsyrip, the Lifesalvener.
Only then, Frrreee, lurf of my life, may we call ourselves truly civilized: when we have given this precious gift to those below us.
The barge approaches, I must cease these scribbling squirtings and embark myself into its innards.
Yours and alls,
Ylolheim Freeeed Yalstogr III.