Episode 8
The Pit Stop
The Dopediddley Adventures of Norm & Norm
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Moments after the two earwigs disappeared through the doorway, six fleas sprang out. They zeroed in on the injured mosquito.
“Ms. Nergus, how awful to see you this way. We’ll help you inside,” said the first flea. The other fleas were staring in awe at the worms. They had never seen creatures like them before. “Very carefully now boys,” the leader turned to the others who, standing on one another’s shoulders, lifted Nergus from her perch on the parked ant. She winced in a quiet and dignified way.
Norm and Norman were, yet again, confused. Carried deep inside a labyrinth of cold, stale, aluminum tunnels, they were now more lost than ever. Since entering the labyrinth, their friends had been less than informative about the route they were on, and they had skirted Norm’s inquiries of sunshine repeatedly. Seeing the unease in their eyes, Nergus calmed the worms, “It’s okay fellas. Follow us inside.”
The glowing portal opened up into a huge, loud, and funky room. Near the ceiling hung a few dozen metal swings. On each swing sat a huffing firefly, clearly working hard to emit a steady glow from his sweaty backside. Protruding from the left wall was a bar with eight or nine stools. On the stools several cockroaches and what appeared to be a millipede, but was maybe a centipede, sat. Behind the bar, the tiny body of a spider with extremely long and skinny legs worked, taking orders and cleaning up. Off the right side wall, a modest stage was occupied by five small beetles. The beetles clicked and whistled over one another in harmony. They bounced, rolled, and paddywhacked, creating loud and raucous music. In the belly of the room, six round tables stood and the back wall held three plush booths. Scrawled on the wall above the booths was a sign that read ‘The Pit Stop’. The establishment was, against all odds, packed to the brim.
The fleas set Nergus down in one of the back booths. Her legs were crushed and had no chance of healing. The split in her abdomen had scabbed over, but looked red with infection. The worms shuffled into the booth beside her. Seeing the mosquito and her companions, the eight legged bartender left his post and scurried over to the booth.
“You look in bad shape, Nerg. What can I get you? It’s on the house,” said the spider amiably.
“I’m ok Daddy. Healing right up. Bring me a scumbeer,” Nergus said doing all she could to mask the pain.
“You got it. What about you two,” the bartender turned to the Norms.
“Bring them the same,” Nergus spoke on the worms’ behalf.
“Ok, it’ll be a half-milligram each for your friends. Sorry hun, can’t give out drinks to everyone.”
“Milligrams? I thought we paid in credits ‘round here?”
“Right. Boss changed things up. We only accept the orange for payment nowadays. You got it, or don’t ya?”
Norm had a hunch as to what the frank bartender was looking for. He produced his pack and pulled out a chunk of the orange cheesy puff that was stashed there. He placed the large morsel on the table.
“You mean this?” he asked.
All eight of the spiders eyes grew huge. “Whoa fella! Put that away,” he said in surprise. “You can’t display wealth like that in a place like this. Not with these characters around. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Above the patrons, one light from a swinging firefly flickered. He was dozing off, and nearly fell from his perch. From the pit below, a piece of trash came flying. It plunked the fly right on the forehead. He straightened up, his light growing steady and bright again.
The first flea approached the booth after a short absence. “Boss will be with you shortly ma’am.”
“Right. Right, thank you,” Nergus replied softly. The three sat quietly in the booth. Norm and Norman were enjoying their scumbeers and the scene before them. In the pit, a table full of termites sang loud and animated songs together. Near them sat a group of entranced beetles listening to a captivating weevil. By them some fireflies sat, drinking scumbeers and checking the time. And at the bar, Nergus’s accomplices, the earwigs, were busying themselves with a couple flirtatious moths.
Pulling himself away from the entertaining scene, Norman turned back to the booth. Nergus had an uneasy, quizzical look on her face. She was deep in thought.
“You seem to know a lot of these folks,” Norman began. No reply, the mosquito kept her gaze straight ahead. “Everything alright Nergus? How are those wounds feeling?” he tried again.
Finally, she focused. “I’ll doubt I’ll walk again. Lucky for me my wings survived. Thanks to you — both of you — I survived at all.”
“You would have done the same for us,” Norman was quick to say.
Silence.
After a bit, Nergus spoke, “Truth is fellas, that’s not all true.”
Silence again.
“Listen, boys, around here things ain’t always as they seem. Friends aren’t always friends, ya’ see. Now you two gone and did something I can’t repay, you saved my life. What’s more than that, you changed my outlook. Never have I seen such selfless behavior. Never,” She finished her thought and looked off to ponder another.
“Now what do you mean by that Nergus? Friends aren’t always friends?” asked Norm, but her attention suddenly went elsewhere. Nergus called a flea over and requested something to write on. Almost immediately the flea produced a heavy scrap of paper and a chunk of lead. Leaving the unanswered question hanging in the air, she spread the paper flat and began to draw.
Tucked in the far corner was a gnat with several empty scumbeers around his feet. He kept his eyes to the floor but yelled loudly so anyone nearby was forced to listen. He spoke of the enslavement of his kind, and his own risky escape. The gnats of his tribe and others, he claimed, were enslaved in laborious efforts to break, crush, and package the suddenly ubiquitous orange powder. He held up his hands to show the orange stains. Enslaved, he cried, at the hands of gangsters.
Nergus put the pencil lead aside and looked up at the worms. She pushed the paper to the middle of the table and began.
“You see this,” she pointed at a filled in square in the middle of the paper. A line ran parallel from one side of the square, then broke with a right angle, and another, then a left. “That’s us right now, and this is the way out.”
It took Norm a moment to figure out that they were surveying a map. By the looks of it, the labyrinth wasn’t as large or complex as he imagined. Norman was still adding up the equation when Nergus continued.
“Now look fellas, I’m not sure how this is ‘bout to play out, but we’re deep in it now. The Boss knows we’re here, I can’t take that back. Pay attention, we’re not too far from the place I promised. The sunshine.” She then ran her proboscis along a line in the crude map toward a poorly drawn star. “As I said before, I’ve never been in the sunshine myself, but I’ve seen it peeking in from right here,” she pounded on the star in emphasis. “I’ve never dared venture through the fans, for fear of my life. But, you boys are fearless ain’t ya,” she let out a disheartened laugh. “You boys ain’t got no future in here. You’re better off dead than never tried. It’s too dark and you’re too bright. You’re too bright.”
The Norms desperately tried to process what they were told. They were confused at the mosquito’s sudden sense of urgency. Just as questions bubbled up, the earwig’s pushed their ways into the booth, and the first flea approached the group.
“Boss will see you now,” the flea said cordially.
“About time.” — “Boss time,” chirped the earwigs as they pounced from the booth and led the group toward a big black door in the back wall.
No time for questions, six new fleas approached the booth to aid the crippled mosquito. The earwigs waited at the black barrier. Looking back a moment too late, they didn’t spy Nergus speaking to the worms in a rushed whisper, “If something happens, you boys just get to that star! You hear me, get to the star.”
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