With a nondescript head that was nowhere near as beautiful as his own and the “good” Hemsworth’s body Rigabold sauntered over to the navigation table. He would have walked normally but there was something about human bodies that made walking awkward and strange.
He wasn’t a huge fan of human body, its advantage, no matter how strange it made him walk, was that he’d fit right in with everyone else on the planet, but the disadvantage was that how bad it looked and the weird pains humans suffered. He couldn’t help but wonder how the race of planet inhabitants who created the Chiko Roll could not have advanced in their evolution enough to design better bodies, bodies that worked efficiently and bodies that didn’t hurt for no apparent reason.
The Tumcuddulans suspected part of the problem was a design issue, all the bits were in the wrong place but for hundreds of squeelookals they had been dropping hints and leaving clues about how to change the anatomy for a more efficient design but they humans had ignored it all. Being such a caring race they had even sacrificed some of their own to be captured by the humans in the hope the better design would be studied and emulated but all the strange human creatures did was lock the visitors up in some area with a number run by the military. In the end the Tumcuddulans just gave up, you could lead a human to vawta, (which in Tumcuddulan meant technology), but you couldn’t make him think!
Being ogled was a sign of respect on Tumcuddula, but he remembered reading before his mission that due to a genetic malfunction in the female human DNA many of adult variety had developed an annoying habit of dribbling and drooling from the mouth when they saw a visually acceptable species of the opposite gender.
Ogling was one thing, but oozing a transparent goo out of their orifices while trying to hide it with screams sounded quite off putting and downright strange. He really hoped the computer had chosen the right body for him.
At the navigation table Rigabold looked over the information the computer had presented him. He flicked through several layers of pictures and information drilling down into the stuff he needed for the next part of his mission, transport.
The computer threw up a large number of images which it had analysed and selected as the most appropriate ways to traverse the land. Rigabold switched to English so that he could read the accompanying information related to each vehicle.
According to his maps and his research Australia was a harsh land, deserts, sands, heat, rains, winds all sort of rough conditions than many vehicles were suited for. With that in mind he immediately flicked the toy cars that ran on things like battery cells and spiritual well being, not only were they extremely impractical for travel through such a harsh environment they were more harmful to the human race than the gas guzzlers they were replacing.
It made him laugh many a time during his research that Earth people spent so much time talking themselves out of one technology only to replace it with something worse. He knew it was a naivety based on a fear of the unknown, in other words it was easier to convince people that something is bad when you use terms that invoke fear rather than words of common sense. On Tumcuddula they had long ago realised that technologies the Earth was just learning about were more harmful to their existence than the ones they’d used for a hundred years, but it wasn’t his place to tell them that.
With a little snigger Rigabold kept searching through his available choices. He really liked the idea of a Road train, he didn’t care what it carried their size was daunting, the kind of size that would make people get out of his way if he needed them too. But he also remembered the parking spaces he’d been looking at before landing his Stargazer and parking a truck with five or six trailers would definitely be a challenge in those places.
There was a few vehicles which according to the data divided many of the country’s occupants, they were named Commodore and Falcon, but the term “bogan” popped up too many times in the data for his liking. When he looked up the word bogan it appeared to be very closely related to what the Tumcuddulans called a wigabogga, the wiga referring to the sexual organ of the male Tumcuddulan and the bogga bit referring to the head. Rigabold was in no way a wigabogga so Commodores and Falcons got flicked off the list quickly. Only good reason for getting rid of such vehicle was because they looked too much like taxis, a form of transport humans used to get from one place to another when they didn’t have their own transport, not a service Rigabold wanted to get mistaken for.
Rigabold was weeding out the choices quickly and when he flicked away the “prestigious” and “showy” cars the choice was even less. It wasn’t that he disliked showy cars, some looked quite impressive, but he still had the thought that his body was going to draw attention from the females, he didn’t need the males of the species reacting the same way, with oozing drool, because of his mode of transport.
After more deliberating and flicking Rigabold settled on a Dodge RAM because for him it was the perfect mix of size, show and grunt. Sure it stood out a bit in the crowd because of it’s size, and its bright red colour, but it was also practical for the Australian outback and according to his data he was going to spend a fair whack of time out.
Rigabold flicked the layer with the RAM on it across to the layer that had the word “order” on it, again the system had been programed with English words. It would take the computer about forty linpickles to create Rigabold’s order but he was happy with his choice and was ready to move on to his next task.