Titi and the Earwax Uprising

Chapter 9: The Robotic Emperor of Mukus Quadrant



Tititarius awoke soon after dawn, stretched and found the Ratsack Tremorroid and Nate Goiterhead had plucked a handfuls of ripe colonberries from some brown bushes near by. These the Plotzian tween ate greedily, finding them an ample breakfast, and afterward the little party resumed its journey. Then it stopped so Titi could make pee-pee and poo-poo. They it resumed resuming its journey. Nate, Titi, and the Ratsack Tremorroid sat astride the Chainsaw Raccoon’s back.

After an hour’s ride they reached the summit of a hill from whence they espied Cydroidobot the Robotic Emperor’s majestic brown log chateau. The Ratsack Tremorroid became greatly animated at this sight, and exclaimed:

“How delighted I shall be to see my old friend Cydroidobot again! I hope that he rules his subjects more successfully than I have ruled mine!”

“Is Cydroidobot the emperor of the Mukuses?” asked the Chainsaw Raccoon.

“Yes, indeed. They invited him to rule over them soon after the previous ruler was melted into a pile of gore; and as Cydroidobot is one righteous guy I am sure he has proved a responsible and capable emperor.”

“And he’s a robot?” asked Nate.

“Yes, but he wasn’t always that way. Cydroidobot was once a humanoid named Mike Creamer but a nefarious hoo-hoo enchanted his chainsaw so it cut off his arm. So he got a robot arm. Then the chainsaw cut off his other arm. So he got another robot arm. This trend continued: Next went one leg, then the other, and then his torso was maimed. Each time he got his missing parts replaced with cyborg parts. Eventually he sawed his own head off and became 100% robot.”

“That all makes perfect sense,” said Nate.

The Chainsaw Raccoon now ambled forward at a pace so fast that its riders had hard work to stick upon its back; so there was little further conversation until they drew up beside the log chateau gate. Titi and the Ratsack Tremorroid dismounted and then helped Nate off the sentient raccoon bench.

An aged white-haired Mukusian, dressed in a butler’s uniform of brown felt pelt, came forward to assist them. Said the Ratsack Tremorroid to his personage:

“Hello, Baryshnikov. I hope you are well today.”

Baryshnikov coughed.

“Please show us at once to your master, Cydroidobot the Robotic Emperor.”

The man looked from one to another of the party in an embarrassed way and coughed a lot, then spit on the ground, and finally answered:

“I fear I must ask you to wait for a time. The Emperor is not receiving this morning.”

“How’s that?” inquired the Ratsack Tremorroid, anxiously. “I hope nothing has happened to him.”

“Oh, no; nothing serious,” returned the man, who kept clearing his throat. “But he is entertaining several young ladies. You see, today is his highness’s day for mud wrestling,”

“Oh, I see!” cried the Ratsack Tremorroid, greatly reassured. “My friend was ever inclined to be a sportsman,.”

“He is, indeed,” said the old man, with a polite bow and a spit.

“Show us in anyway,” said the living sack of writing rats, “I’m sure the emperor will receive us, even in his present state”

“The emperor’s state is always magnificent,” said the elderly man. He coughed and hacked and spit another glob of pale yellow goo on the ground. “But I will venture to tell him of your arrival, and will receive his commands concerning you.”

So the party followed the servant through the gates to the chateau and into a splendid foyer, and the Chainsaw Raccoon ambled awkwardly after them, having no knowledge that a big animal might be expected to remain outside.

Titi was at first somewhat awed by his surroundings. He was quite impressed as he examined the many framed theatrical one-sheets and autographed movie star headshots. Also on the walls hung several portraits, painted by the emperor himself. The one of the Ratsack Tremorroid seeming to be the most prominent and carefully executed, while a large painting of Empress Nobgoblin of Quirk Quadrant hung to its left and one of a girl named Montana Shingles hung to its right. Titi thought Montana Shingles was the prettiest humanoid he had ever seen.

While the visitors gazed at these things in silent admiration they suddenly heard a loud voice in the next room exclaim:

“Well! well! well! What a great surprise!”

And then the door burst open and Cydroidobot rolled into the ante-room on his roller skate extensions. The android grabbed the Ratsack Tremorroid in a close and loving embrace.

“My best friend! My favorite scene partner! My bowling buddy!” cried Cydroidobot, joyfully. “how delighted I am to see you once again.”

And then he released the Ratsack Tremorroid and held him at arms’ length while he surveyed the beloved, painted features.

But, alas! The sack of the Ratsack Tremorroid bore great blotches of mud; for the android, in his eagerness to welcome his friend, had quite forgotten the condition of his toilet and had rubbed the thick coating of brown muck from his own body onto that of his comrade.

“Dear me!” said the Ratsack Tremorroid dolefully. “What a mess I’m in!”

“Never mind, my friend,” returned Cydroidobot, “I’ll send you to my imperial laundry, and you’ll come out as good as new.”

“Won’t I be mangled?” asked the Ratsack Tremorroid.

“No, indeed!” was the reply. “And when you’re dry we’ll get some fresh new rats to fill you up with. But tell me, what are you doing here? and who are your companions? Hang on a second- is that a chainsaw sculpture?”

“Yes,” said Titi.

“Why, that’s one of mine! I crafted this raccoon back when I was still a meat man. Wow, Sifillis sure is a small planet.”

“Well, thanks a lot for making me, daddy-o,” said the gashmouthed raccoon flatly.

The Ratsack Tremorroid, with great politeness, introduced Tititarius and Nate Goiterhead, and the latter personage seemed to interest Cydroidobot greatly.

“You are not very substantial, I must admit,” said the Emperor. “but you are certainly unusual, and therefore worthy to become a member of our select society.”

“I thank your highness,” said Nate, humbly.

“I hope you are enjoying good health?” continued the android.

“At present, yes;” replied Nate, with a sigh; “but I am in constant terror of the day when I shall rot.”

“Nonsense!” said the Robotic Emperor- but in a kindly, sympathetic tone. “Do not, I beg of you, pee on today’s cereal with the stream of tomorrow. For before your head has time to rot you can have it frozen cryogenicly, and in that way it may be preserved indefinitely until they discover a cure for struma spoilage.”

Titi, during this conversation, was looking at the android with undisguised amazement. Whereas every other robot he had heard of was made of plastic, Cydroidobot was constructed from pieces of blueish-silver molybdenum, neatly soldered and riveted together into the form of a man. His head had two eyebrows, two bulging eyes, and a black rubber band mouth. His torso had nipples and a belly button, and his groin featured a metal fig leaf. He rattled and clanked a little, as he moved, but in the main he seemed to be most cleverly constructed, and his appearance was only marred by the thick coating of mud that covered him from head to foot.

The boy’s intent gaze caused Cydroidobot to remember that he was not in the most presentable condition, so he begged his friends to excuse him while he retired to his boudoir and allowed his handmaidens to wipe him. This was accomplished in a short time, and when the emperor returned his metal body shone so magnificently that the Ratsack Tremorroid heartily congratulated him on his improved appearance.

“Are the citizens of Schmegma City happy and contented, my dear friend?” the Robotic Emperor asked the Ratsack Tremorroid.

“I cannot, say” was the reply. “for the S.C.U.M. Army have risen in revolt and driven me out of town.”

“Ugga Magugga!” cried Cydroidobot, “What a calamity! They surely do not complain of your wise and gracious rule?”

“Apparently these rebels are of the opinion that grown-ups have ruled Bonertania long enough. So a bunch of teenaged humanoids and yokai- mostly gremlin-class yokai including queezimps, belchkins, spuurtises, smunchies, slobgoblins, klittlers, zitlers, pimplers, chubblies, droolies, spewlies, and goolies- have captured the capitol and are running things to suit themselves. I just barely escaped my innards becoming ratburgers.”

“Krudballs! What a story!” cried the Robotic Emperor, who was both shocked and surprised.

“And I heard some of them say,” said Titi, “that they intend to march here and capture the chateau and quadrant of Cydroidobot.”

“Ah! We must not give them time to do that,” said the Emperor, quickly; “we will go at once and recapture Schmegma City and place the Ratsack Tremorroid again upon his videotape throne.”

“I was sure you would help me,” remarked the Ratsack Tremorroid in a pleased voice. “How large an army can you assemble?”

“We do not need an army,” replied the android. “We five are enough to strike fear into the hearts of the rebels.”

"Fear is something complex: it makes us build defenses and maintain society without change,” said the Ratsack Tremorroid.

“Uh-huh,” said Cydroidobot. Then the Robotic Emperor called his royal flackfizer Tony G. and instructed him how to run the quadrant during his absence. Meanwhile the Ratsack Tremorroid was taken to the laundry and the painted sack that served him for a body was carefully laundered and restuffed with fresh rats. A fresh eyes and mouth were painted on the upper half of his sack and his crown was polished and again sewed upon his head. The Ratsack Tremorroid now presented a very respectable appearance, and although in no way addicted to vanity he was quite pleased with himself and strutted a trifle as he walked.

Then bright and early the next morning they set out upon the return journey to Schmegma City, the gleaming Cydroidobot leading the way, while Nate Goiterhead rode upon the Chainsaw Raccoon and Titi and the Ratsack Tremorroid walked upon either side to make sure that he didn’t fall off or become damaged.

Titi farted with anticipation.


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