I was planning a nice, quiet hunting trip. I had bought a Franchi Deluxe Automatic Shotgun during my last visit--twelve-gauge, thirty-two-inch barrel, full choke, three-inch magnum loads, five-shot magazine. I had never fired it. With No. 00 buckshot, each one .33 inches in diameter, it was the very thing for songbirds.
Or not.
Believe it or not, this is still about Gris getting back in Utanc's good graces. Since she's such a primitive girl, Gris hopes to appeal to her primeval nature by taking her out into nature and dragging an animal carcass (or dead canaries) back to camp for her to cook. "In my Earth psychology textbooks, it is called atavism. Everybody is a caveman, even though Freud passed a law against it, and gets thrown back to primitive instincts like any other beast or animal."
Again with the author's rage at humans being treated as animals, as if any mere beast could pen an epic as grand as Mission Earth.
So Gris writes a note inviting Utanc to boil songbirds out in the Turkish boonies and slips it under her door. Seconds later said door blasts open amid a hail of potted plants and mirrors to reveal a livid Utanc.
In pure venom her words lashed out, "You dirty (bleepard)! It's not enough to ruin forever a beautiful boy! Now, (bleep) you, you want to kill SONGBIRDS!"
And so Gris flees the scene before he's hit by more furniture, amazed that she's still angry about that vicious bit of child abuse. Women, am I right, guys?
On the bright side, as irrelevant as this short, sad chapter is, it at least aborts Gris' attempt to further waste our time with a repeat of that hunting trip in book one. Now, with all his other options expended, he'll be forced to reluctantly return to the main plot of this friggin' series.
If nothing else, we can look forward to another lecture on cooky alien natural philosophy in the chapter after next. But first, a funeral.
Back to Part Twenty-Four, Chapter Five
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