It was a dark and stormy night. The Furry Shuttle sat on the launch pad, waiting for a break in the weather. Commander Flattail paced up and down the control room.
He leaned over the weather desk, "What's the latest... are we going to get that bird?"
The meteorologist's tail shook with tension, "I'm not sure, colonel sir. It looks like we might have a small break in about 10 minutes, but I can't guarantee it. You know how the weather has been."
The colonel's face turned red under his fur, "200 million for weather prediction equipment, and they still can't tell me if it's going to rain! Start the countdown... that shuttle is going to go up in 10 minutes or I'm not an otter!"
The techs started doing their tech thing, and soon lights were flashing. Data was being received and transmitted and a number of furs were chewing their claws in nervousness.
The countdown reached 5 minutes as the rain pounded against the windows of the control room. The colonel chewed his cigar and looked over the shoulders of nervous technicians.
"Well, is it going to stop..? A lot depends on this getting off the ground on time!"
T minus one minute approached, and the count continued. Soon, movement was seen on the pad as machinery started it's work.
"Damn it, this weather had better clear up, or I'm going to kick some furry meteorologist's butt!"
With that, the rain ceased... the countdown reached T minus 10...9..8..7..6..5..4..3..2..1 At zero, the night sky lit up and the shuttle arced through the stormy skies.
"Well, thats that.. Those furs in that shuttle are Earth's only hope... I hope they can do the job."
"Don't you think that's a *little* melodramatic, Flattail?"
The otter whirled about to glower at the new arrival. "General Laserbeak... you here to gloat over the canceled launch? I'm afraid we can't ..." He gave a quick glance back at the readouts. Everything was still on target.
"Do you really think those *clowns* of yours are going to accomplish anything?" the general asked, staring at Flattail coldly. "I suppose you'd find some other way to waste your budget if it weren't for these theatrics." Laserbeak ruffled his wings. "I'm not here to gloat. I'm here to coordinate with you so that we don't accidentally blow you up when we neutralize the target."
"Just don't get in the way," the otter snapped back. Laserbeak looked amused.
Flattail turned his back on the hawk and went back to his job, which to make sure they didn't have to resort to the general's mad plan.
"Reg! Get up here you fuzzy excuse for a diplodit! We need you to take a look at this!"
Regarald looked up through the hatch in the shuttle. "You know Terry, from the moment that I got onto this ship I have wondered how you became such an asstrofur. Maybe I could write a book about your life. 'The Life and Disasters of Terry Squirrle.'"
Terry looked down the hatch, "Get up here now!"
Regarald floated up the hatch to join Terry at the viewer. "What is it that you would like me to look at, oh load one?"
Terry pointed at the screen with the display of the 'object'. "What do you make of its moves now?"
The 'object', named that as there seemed to be no other way to talk about it, floated in the mist of space, hurling to earth at 1/10 the speed of light. It was in the shape of a horseshoe 10 miles wide and 50 miles long. The strange thing about it was the english letters written in the side: 'Acme Horseshoe! For when God needs to hoof it.'
It had started to glow when the shuttle started to match speeds with it, in colors of pink and red.
Regarald blinked... "I would say that it knows we are here. Looks like our bet paid off. Using that new ion drive to catch this thing means we can talk with it."
Terry laughed. "Better then Leadbeck's plan of throwing the moon at it by blowing up all of the H-bombs in the world."
"Well," said Terry, "you're our communications expert, Regarald. What do you suggest... connecting a couple of cans with string and tossing one at them?"
Regarald scowled at Terry, "No... I'm monitoring frequencies now. Hopefully they will have sensors or be trying to communicate with us that we can detect to give us a baseline of frequencies to check."
Terry thought about this, "Well, how long will that..."
Suddenly a beeping emanated from a back of the equipment. Regarald adjusted some buttons and noted a few dials, "That soon enough for you?" ;>
Regarald made a few more adjustments, "This is strange, this seems to be a multiplexed signal... there is audio, and data... perhaps an image.. give me a minute.."
Terry waited impatiently while the rest of the crew gathered around. His tail twitched behind him as he waited.
Regarald made a final adjustment, and sounds began to come from the little speaker... loudly!
Terry covered his ears, "Hey, turn that down!"
Regarald did so, and the sounds soon became surprisingly recognizable. With a slight twist of another dial, an image appeared on the main monitor. The deck went silent as the Furrynauts gaped in surprise. "No way!" "It can't be!" "How in the world?"
The furs had good reason to be amazed, the sounds from the speaker, and the image on the screen were...
"And then you lost all contact with the shuttle?" asked the weasel from CNBC.
"That is correct," Flattail growled into the cluster of microphones. "It appears that our telemetry is being jammed by The Object."
"Do you think the shuttle has been destroyed?" asked another reporter.
"No!" Flattail snapped. "I'm sure they're just as scared of us as we are of them, and that negotiations are going on even as we speak!"
"So you don't think we should go ahead with Project Moonfire?"
Flattail growled and threw one of the microphones at the hapless squirrel, then stalked offstage. "No more -- no more questions," his PR rat said, as he closed the door behind him and stormed into the control room.
"Any word?"
"No change, commander..." the nearest tech said, sounding a little frightened. "We tried shifting frequencies to compensate for some sort of doppler effect, but --"
"Any other ideas?" Flattail asked, glowering around at everyone. No one said a word. "...because if we don't come up with something in --" he checked his watch "-- 15 hours, we'll be breathing radioactive dust for the next 15 million years (if we're lucky and we don't just piss that thing off)."
"Why don't you go home and get some rest," suggested Laserbeak in a patronizing tone. "Let the professionals handle this." He laughed softly as Flattail glared at him.
Terry gasped and sat clutching his suit with both paws, as the figure in the screen started to talk.
"Good'day, ya all. Yo, ...it has been rather a long time away from my fans."
One of the crewrats stuttered. "Elvis!" Then they fainted dead away and floated to the back of the control room. Terry eyed the image on the screen.
"I am captain Terry Squirrle of the United Races of America! Who are you and state your purpose here, alien!"
The Elvis imaged laughed. "Ah ya little fan. Would you like a pink horseshoe?"
Regarald pushed Terry out of the way and put on his best diplomat tone. "Hello. Let me be the first to welcome you back to Earth, sir. We would be more then happy to have you back. There is just one little thing. You are going 1/10 the speed of light in a 1/100 speed of light zone. We are going to have to ask you to slow down."
"Gosh darn. Why didn't you say so!"
The giant Acme Horseshoe rounded the moon, and with (even in space) a squeal of tires, slid sideways into a perfect parking position next to the shuttle.' Elvis looked at Regarald, "Hows about that there my little buddy?"
Regarald did his best to hold his water as the Horseshoe flashed into position next to his ship.
"Uhm... thats fine Elvis, thank you. Now, if I may ask, what brings you back to Earth?"
Elvis smiled at all the furs, "Wahl, ya see, after I left, I found that a lotta folks was putting my trademarked, copyrighted image, on velvet. Now I gots no problem with that, but I want my money!"
Regarald looked at Terry, who looked at the rest of the crew. He motioned to Terry to turn off the microphone.
Terry did so, and Regarald said, "Do any of you believe that he came all this way over a few crummy paintings?"
The furs looked at each other and shook their heads.
Terry said, "I can't believe that's really Elvis."
Regarald had an idea, "I know... lets find out."
He turned the mic back on and addressed Elvis, "Mr. Presley, I wonder if you could settle a small disagreement we are having. I say that your biggest hit was 'Rock around the Clock,' but my associate says it was 'The Streak.' Could you tell us which it was?"
Elvis thought for a moment, and then said...
"It was definitely 'Like a Hound Dog'. And I'm a gonna hound yooze to the end of the Earth if you don't give me mah money. Catch my drift?"
"I don't know... I always thought that song was kind of boring," Reg said. "Particularly the way the drums always drown everything else out."
"What _are_ you DOING?" Terry hissed.
Elvis laughed. "Well, I can undastand how someone maght think that. If they were a TOTAL MORON! Howsabout you come over to my ship and we can settle this, man to... whatever the heck you are...?"
"You got it, Bub!" Reggy said, "Just open the hatch and we'll come right in."
A few seconds later, a half-mile wide door slid open on the side of the Horseshoe. "I *hate* parking," Terry grumbled as he pulled the shuttle inside.
Flattail looked at the radar image on the screen and couldn't help but chortle to himself as Laserbeak fumed behind him. Even if they didn't have contact with the shuttle, the Horseshoe ship matched its course. Plan Moonfart was a bust. "So tell me Laserbeak... now that it isn't going to crash into the Earth, what are you going to do with all of those h-bombs?"
Laserbeak grinned at Flattail and fluffed up his feathers. "Well, if we don't get into contact with your people in another 24 hours we are going to attack it directly!"
"What! How can you talk like that, you dust collector!" Flattail lunged at Laserbeak and luckily his techs pounced upon him before he could bite the feathered general.
Laserbeak tsk tsked. "Now now, Flattail. You really should watch your blood pressure. You could hurt yourself with such outbursts..."
Flattail turned away for the general and glared at the screen. "Ted! Patch the main transmitter into the radio telescopes. Let's see if we can talk to them with 5,000 gigawatts.
-----------------
Meanwhile on the Horseshoe ship, Terry led the way though the hallways and rooms of the alien spaceship. "Who the hell come up with this 'follow the yellow strip' crap?"
Regarald sighed. "Terry? Do you think you can let me do the talking from now on? I am the diplomat here. Not you!"
Terry fluffed out his tail and stomped into the next room and right into Elvis'es tummy. He bounced back with a start.
The bottom half of Elvis was a ten legged jellyfish and everthing above the waist looked just like him. "Hey and hello there fans! Yuzzz wanted to fight or something? 'Yur Nothing but a Hound Dog' is the be-all end-all of songs!"
Terry and Regarald looked at one another, "Well," whispered Terry, "That's really Elvis, all right." :)
Regarald nodded, "Yes, but now you've pissed him off, I'll see if I can calm him down."
"Mr. Presley, please forgive my associate for his remarks concerning the greatest song ever written. He is young, and wasn't really familiar with it.. he thought it was 'You Mama is a Hound Dog', so you can understand his reaction."
Elvis squisshed his ten-legged jellyfish body over to Terry, "Whal.. that's different.. I can understand your confusion... I forgive you, little buddy!"
Elvis gave Terry a squishy jellyfishy hug, and smiled, "Now how about you fuzzy little fellers gettin' me my money?"
Regarald spoke quickly, "We are working on that Mr. Presley, but there is a problem. We can't communicate with our base, because of radiation your ship is giving off. Also, we need to know what you think you are owed."
Elvis smiled at Regarald, "Whal... thats what I like hearin'." Elvis squished his way to a control panel and pressed a button, "Thar ya go, you can talk to anyone now."
Elvis got a serious look on his face, "And I feel I'm owed about ..oh lets see, maybe 1000 per velvet painting, sold at flea markets for 5 dollars.. "That'd be.. uhm... oh.. $500."
Terry looked at Regarald, winking out of his detection, "Uhm.. $500? That's a lot of money, Elvis. Let me check with the base."
"You little fellers go on ahead, and no checks..I want 'U.S. of F.' cash!"
Regarald and Terry followed the yellow brick.. er paint line back to their ship, they entered the airlock, and took off their spacesuits. They stood looking at each other for a moment, and then Terry spoke. "Elvis isn't very bright is he?"
Terry started to answer when the radio blared into life, clear as a bell. Flattails voice boomed into the cabin, "Shuttle..Terry, Regarald.. are you there?.. come in please!"
"Good news, commander!" Terry chittered into the mic after leaping across the room. "It's just Elvis! All he wants is $500 cash."
"And he'll leave?"
Terry nodded to the screen. "Yes."
"And won't destroy us, or anything?"
Terry shook his head. "Nope. They wont. So how fast can you get it up here? We don't have any cash on us; it'd be extra weight."
Flattail suddenly looked pale. "We pushed our infrastructure to the limit getting your team up there... it'll be at least a month, maybe two before we can do another launch."
Suddenly, Flattail's face fuzzed out in static, replaced with Elvis. "You boys got mah money yet? I'm gettin' impatient, here."
Terry slammed his paw on the power switch, cutting the com. "Do you think you could get him to accept Tang instead of money, Reg? Or maybe one of those atom bombs?"
Ed looked at Terry in horror. Terry facepawed. "Sorry. Forget I mentioned them, they're top secret."
Reg rubbed his chin for a moment and then grinned softly to himself and looked around the room. "So tell me Terry... how long has it been from the last time that Elvis has been to Earth?"
Terry blinked... "I don't know... 30 years?"
Reg nodded sadly... "U.S. dollars sure have changed a lot in all that time ..... funny thing about money you know." ;)
Terry and Ed both had a dumb expresion on their face. "Huh? U.S. money is the most 'backasswards' money in the world. Everyone else has the new stuff now. We still use the same thing."
Reg held up his paw and reached over for the U.S. Tang lable, drab green with the letters U.S. printed boldly on it. It was made of a superstrong kevlar and shiny liguid glass, ( it can double as both a wrapper and hull patch you see ) and showed it to Terry. "U.S. money sure has changed... Don't you think?"
Terry and Ed blinked and looked at Reg like he'd just grown a second head.
Reg took the Tang lable and put it in the portable scanner connected to the lap top, he used the small graphics program, did some cut and paste, then printed out a sheet, he turned it over and printed the other side. He took the finished product, cut it into 5 parts and showed the finished 'money' to the others. "There you go..'real' money."
Reg and Ed examined the bills. The back said U.S. in large letters, with a smaller '100' on one edge, the other showed '100' in all four corners, and the words 'One Hundred Dollars' along it's bottom. In the center was a portrait.
Terry examined the bills, "Oh.. these are great, how can he resist them?"
Terry and Reg got back in their suits, and followed the yellow brick..er..line to the Horseshoe's control room. As they arrived, Elvis squishily turned and smiled,
"You got my money?"
Reg spoke as he handed over the 5 bills, and watched Elvis' face light up as he closely examined it, smiling. "On Earth it is only great people whose pictures appear on the money."
Elvis turned to the Furrynauts and said, "You boys did good! This is fine! Have a nice trip home..." He smiled as he closely examined his picture on the bills.
Elvis paused. "Only one thing ah wonder about... these bills don't look quite like the ones I see on TV... Ah've been picking up teevee signals you know." He giggles. "That Fox network always cracks me up."
"They're the new bills," Reg replied smoothly, grabbing Terry's tail and forcing it back down from where it stood straight up in panic. "We couldn't put your face on the money until enough time had passed since your disappearance. We were using those drab green things for what seemed like forever... but it was worth it to have and wait for... the King."
Elvis chuckled, and the astronauts quietly snuck back to the ship.
---------
"...come in? *fzzt fzzt* Can you read me? Are you all -- Terry!"
"Mission accomplished, commander," the squirrel replied with a smug flick of tail. "Elvis should be leaving shortly... oh! and there's more good news..."
Terry held up the sixth modified Tang packet. "It seems like we finally get to redesign the $100 bill back home."