Rigabold the pernicketness walked out of the take away place feeling a little smug with himself. It was the kind of out burst that Tumcuddulans did not do. They had long ago evolved from putting each other down, they had also long ago learnt how to treat others without rudeness. Earth people might have thought they had come a long way in their evolution but the truth was they were still one of least evolved forms in all the galaxies.
It didn’t worry Rigabold too much that after only a few short days on Earth he was beginning to act like humans and follow the traits that had held them back for so long. However he knew that he was going to have to keep a closer eye on himself, his mannerisms and his comments to ensure those human issues didn’t embed themselves too deeply into his psyche before he arrived home. As a Tumcuddulan he should be able to cleanse himself in his Stargazer on the journey home, but with lengthy exposure to the species there was a risk that when he did get back to his ship he’d be too arrogant to realise what sort of help he needed, just like humans.
By the time he was back in the front seat of his Dodge Rigabold was almost over the rude people in the take away shop. He wouldn’t forget their attitudes and the way they all thought he was below them because they didn’t know him, but he wouldn’t dwell on it. Hunger pains rumbled in his food disposal unit, or the stomach in his human form body, and he was quickly reminded that what he’d actually gone in to order he had not gotten.
“Bit off your nose to spite your face did you old boy?” He said into the rear vision mirror as he looked at himself.
Laughing at the thought he wondered just how a human came up with such a term, is was physically impossible for the human form to bite their nose no matter what that did to their face. In fact in more than eighty percent of the life forms in the known galaxies it was an impossible task and on those that could do it, it left them weirdly disfigured and rather odd looking.
“They’re a weird mob!” Rigabold said as he started the engine.
Mishearing his comment the GPS in the dashboard began playing the movie “They’re A Weird Mob” a movie based on the book by Nino Culotta, (a pen name), in which an Italian immigrant to Australia in the 1960’s struggles to fit into his newly chosen home. According to the blurb it was a fun, light hearted look at an Italian man’s struggles fitting in with the life, the language, the slang and the mannerisms of the Aussie larrikin. There was also a note on the screen suggesting that it was not the sort of movie that could be made in a modern day world where namby pamby whingers and do gooders got offended by pissy little throw away comments and insults of a bygone era that never used to offend.
“Sounds great.” Rigabold said to the screen as he pulled out. “Save it for later. I’ve got Chiko Rolls to find.
Immediately the screen was updated with a map showing him directions to the KImba Roadhouse.
Unlike the takeaway shop the people at the roadhouse were polite and happy for Rigabold’s custom. There was more than a dozen people waiting, ordering, or just milling around inside the place when he arrived and each one was served in a timely order without over bearing loud mouths getting in first. It was a complete change to the take away shop and almost like it was a different town.
“Maybe it’s the difference between tourists at a roadhouse and locals in a local store who maybe thought less of tourists.” Rigabold thought as he waited for his order of eight Chiko Rolls and a moo juice flavour which was named Chocberry and obviously a mix of the flavours chocolate and strawberry. He didn’t think the mixed flavour would be as good as his favourite spearmint moo juice but when spearmint wasn’t available he just had to choose differently.
With his Chiko Rolls in a bag and his moo juice in hand Rigabold thanked the staff at the Kimba roadhouse for their service and headed out of the store. The sun was getting lower in the western sky, it was still a big fiery ball but the heat of it had definitely been taken out of the day as night was approaching.
It was still light but before Rigabold made a final decision as to whether he was going to drive on into the evening and into darkness he had one more thing to do. He opened the door of the Dodge and placed seven of the Chiko Rolls on the warming seat and the moo juice in the holder in the centre console. Then munching down one of the Chikos he wandered over to the biggest galah he’s ever seen, even bigger that the ones in the take away shop!
Obviously the eight metre high galah wasn’t real, it was made of fibreglass and steel, but it like so many towns in Australia KImba had decided to give tourists something to talk about and that talking point was a galah. It was created to commemorate the large numbers of galahs that frequently visited the small town. Apart from its size there was nothing overly remarkable about the galah but like most ‘big things’ it was interesting to see once.
“At least it doesn’t talk like the ones in town!” Rigabold thought before making his way back to the Dodge.