JAX LUNAR LUMBER Chapter 7: (s)Turdland Vilbix Meets Their Match

On the way to the neighborhood Home Depot for the obligatory weekend project as well as a load of flowers and potting soil, I started musing on my hitch as a “yard ape” for a company called Knox Lumber. We, too were busy this time of year, and it was a familiar feel whenever I went to one of these stored. Know was one of the original “Do It Yourself” (aka DIY) stores, a precursor to today’s Lowes, Menards, and Home Depot. Eventually bought out by Payless Cashways https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Payless_Cashways the rumor in the store was that you could build an entire house by waiting patiently for a year while EVERYTHING went on sale…Rolling down the driveway, I suddenly had a thought and snickered.

When my wife asked, “What?” I shook my head. “No, what?”

I reiterated the train of thought above, then added, “I was wondering if it would be possible to build a colony on the Moon using just what you could buy at Knox?”

We pondered it for a few moments, then suddenly said in unison, “Yes!”

Inspired by Matt Weir, the result of my musing continues below.

Sturdlan Vilbix appeared just as they’d predicted and started spreading their drones. Little Rayna ran in, cute as a bug, and hugged my leg.

“Grandpa, Grandpa, do the turkey neck! Please! Please! Please!” Natalie, Ronan, and Rayna cried, jumping up and down.

Noah, oldest and sometime wisest, watched me carefully and said under his breath, “Granddumpsterfire? Neck or no-neck?”

That was the code phrase my grandchildren, aka The Council of Four decided on for me to let them know if it was a Go-No-Go situation. Rolling my eyes, I shook my head several times, shaking my wattles of fat and making cheek noises. Rayna hugged me again and ran out of the room.”

Sturdlan, who had instantly become Turdland to the Four said, “I’m sorry Mr. Whatever-You-Are, are the little adults removed now until her majesty, Queen of 4D rLife and the most influential singer the entire Planet of Earth has ever or EVER will know – and me myself and I, her Essential Handler…”

“I’m the Owner and Proprietor of JAX LUNAR LUMBER, Mr. Turdland.” I grinned a toothy grin at them. They couldn’t see what I saw over their shoulder.

Roza Rymbayeva Golovkin, Six-Times-Great-Granddaughter Of The Last Walker on the Moon, Eugene Cernan on December14, 1972; who had been contracted to perform a concert on the Moon, ticking off a number of Firsts: First Spacesuit Concert; First Megahit Song Composed on the Moon, First Concert Arranged By the Multiple-Award-Winning Artist, Sturdlan Vilbix…They said, "Which is, of course, me, and I speak for..."

I cut them off, “I’m certain all that is very interesting, but…”

They were not going to give up their constant live-streamed limelight easily, and cut me off, “Now, I’d like you to scurry on and make sure your ‘grandchildren’,” I’d been feeling sorry for him until that moment. He talked about them like they were an infection that needed a dose of anti-Life to get ride of. He spoke without regard for my grandkids, who were Citizens of the Moon. I sighed. I’d hoped we’d be able to be civil, but it appeared they weren’t interested.

I hadn’t wanted to give the grandkids full reign, but they’d planned, plotted, constructed, and prepared to separate Turdland from their meal ticket…I mean their employer, the last living relative of the last Man to Walk On The Moon, the magnificent Whatever-Their-Name-Was...

The Grands, or the Council of Four had hacked Roza Rymbayeva Golovkin, Six-Times-Great-Granddaughter Of The Last Walker – who, Natalie discovered preferred the lest-grand ‘Roza’, just wanted to pay her respects at the Cernan Lunar Memorial and spend some time at the foot of the Lunar Tree planted in his name. “Without,” Natalie told me firmly, “The bozo who keeps her on a leash so he has an easy way to make money for his stupid habits...”

“I don’t need to know. We’ll get Roza out to her ancestor’s tree and we’ll make sure Turdland has an…interesting time. Grandma’s got something really special cooked up for him.”

Ronan jogged in, Lunar-long legs making him almost as tall as his Earth-grown cousin, Noah, even though he was only nine and said, “Gee-Pa, everything’s ready for the windbag.”

At that moment, the windbag in question stepped out of a lift, saying, “We have very important work here to do! Billions of Humans are clamoring to see me…” they snapped their mouth shut, staring at the assemblage looking through them at the singer and several-times removed granddaughter of the Last Man to Walk On the Moon stopped, cleared their throat and said, “I mean ONLY to speak for Madame Golovkin when I say…”

The grandkids pushed them aside and went to Roza, gently taking her hands and leading her past Turdland, ignoring them. Just then, every piece of spy equipment Turdland’s people had brought had its electronics and quantum circuits scrambled. They shouted, “Hey!” and then found themselves alone.

With me. I said, “Nice to finally meet the unenhanced you, Brad.”

Resources: The Moon Trees, https://www.urbanforestdweller.com/we-almost-forgot-about-the-moon-trees/;  https://www.space.com/moon-colonists-lunar-lava-tubes.html

Image: https://external-preview.redd.it/xL2Y2UHb2B0JN5P162FShQfxqCTYNuOp3WEYxdF86j4.jpg?width=1080&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=6955074e421a5e98c69b2da35179a3a91faa5662