NOSEY: Greetings, cybernuts! This
is I.B. Nosey, your official unofficial reporter and today I’m coming to you
from…er, um…*stares at dark and creepy looking building before him*
Whoa. This isn’t my Nosey kind of interviewing place, so I think I’ll just—
Pat Hatt lives here????
DOOR,
SQUEAKING AND SQUEALING, OPENS: I’m Pat Hatt’s cat. What’s ya think of that?
Pat Hatt's cat - friendly looking feline.....
NOSEY: Ack! *jumps* Say
what?
CAT: I.B. Nosey, huh? Yeah, ya
looks the dud. *strolls away*
NOSEY: Now wait just one minute—
PAT
HATT: *calls*
Is that you, Nosey? What’s you doing standing there gulping like a
big-mouthed bass? Get on in here.
NOSEY: Well…*peeks around edge
of door* Where’d that rhyming cat go?
PAT
HATT: He
went to where a rhyming cat always goes. *beckons towards scratching post* C’mon. Let’s get this
interview moving, man.
NOSEY:
*tiptoes inside and then comes to screeching stop* Holy reading room! What is
all this?
PAT
HATT: *grins and gestures around room, indicating wall niches filled with dark
and creepy looking figures* My library, of course.
NOSEY: Libraries don’t have
statues in ‘em!
PAT
HATT: Mine
does. These represent the characters written inside the pages of my 118
published books.
NOSEY:
*slaps hand to side of cheek* Dude, I can’t interview you about 118 books!
PAT
HATT: Don’t
worry. Pat Hatt’s cat will decide.
NOSEY: It’ll— huh?
PAT
HATT: *points*
Watch. He knows which one he wants to choose.
Cat
clicks on computer screen. One large wall -as wide as a football field, no
less- displays visuals of Pat Hatt’s 118 books. Er, well…Maybe not quite as
wide as a football field. On second thought, maybe not as wide as a basketball
court. On third thought ‒ maybe as wide as a TV screen?
CAT: ‘A Not So Perfect World’.
If only Nosey could.
NOSEY: If only I could what?
CAT:
*grins wickedly, shows mouthful of sharp teeth*
NOSEY: Yeah… *tugs at shirt
collar* Heh heh.
PAT
HATT: All
right. The cat has chosen. *picks up remote and clicks toward visual
book* See the blurb there, Nosey? Wanna read it to your adoring audience?
NOSEY: Er… *keeps suspicious
eye on cat* I’m kinda busy right now.
PAT
HATT: Okay,
then I’ll do the honor. ‘A Not So Perfect World’: After
Chutar, and finally figuring out where and when they were, Jack and Emily hoped their troubles were over. But little
did they know Chutar was just the beginning. With Mason by their side,
the three continue to struggle to find their way back home.
With everything from dragons and Critlen to
booby traps and armies standing in their way, the three remain
determined to make it. Until they come up against what they thought to be
impossible, gods of myth.
Now with hope dwindling thanks to a few choice
gods, a prophecy involving aliens, and an over involved Prophet, the newly
dubbed Death Defying Three will have to do just that, if they ever hope to make
it home.
NOSEY: *frowns and shakes head*
That is one confusing blurb, fella.
Cat nibbles on one claw and twitches tail.
PAT HATT: *murmurs*
Shouldn’t tell the cat that the blurb is confusing, Nosey. Remember, he chose
this book.
NOSEY: Oh, yeah. Yeah,
right. Er, so okay. *takes deep breath* First question ‒ What, um, who/what
is Chutar?
PAT HATT: *chuckles*
Glad you asked. Chutar is the next best tasting gum. It has infinite chew and
tastes like tar.
NOSEY: But—
PAT HATT: Buy a ten pack
and you get a free feather.
NOSEY: But—
PAT HATT: Did I mention
it has infinite chew? Swallowing isn’t advised. It hasn’t been tested that far
down. Or it could be—
NOSEY: All right, all right!
*rolls eyes* Dunno if I really want to ask about Mason.
PAT HATT: Aw, c’mon.
Sure you do. He’s a Gopter.
NOSEY: *mouth drops open*
A what? A gopher?
PAT HATT: *laughs*
Gopter, Nosey, Gopter. One that they picked up along the way. Gopter would be,
oh ‒ Doctor in our Time Fraction. He likes to go by Doc, though. They pretty
much destroyed his time fraction, even leaving the bomb there that eventually
blew it up, so they took pity on him and let him come.
NOSEY: Is that right?
PAT HATT: Hey, I’m the
author and… *waves toward cat* he’s the editor. Gonna argue with him?
CAT: *spits out old nail and, ah ‒ whadda ya
know, a newly sparkly one shines in its place*
NOSEY: Heh heh. *takes
wary step back* No way, fella. So… *edges toward doorway* how
come those kiddies gotta get home? Where is their home anyway?
PAT HATT: Kiddies? Do
twenty-something year olds count as kiddies? *ponders for
a moment* Well. In any case, they have to get home because places with
dragons, dinosaurs, critlen, the germy middle ages, and such just won’t allow
them to relax and enjoy themselves.
NOSEY: Oh, sure. Everybody
knows that. But where is home, dude? Home? You know, h - o - m, home?
PAT HATT: H, o, …? Oh, wait. Yes. I see. Home for them is Earth’s time fraction.
NOSEY: Time fraction? *taps
impatient foot* Like, a half cup of milk and half cup of‒?
PAT HATT: Not exactly. *hesitates*
Want me to explain what a time fraction is?
NOSEY: No. No. I know what a
time fraction is. ‘Course I do. Who do ya think you’re talking to? I’m a
professional, you know. I know how to do my job. *backs into wall,
starts, and screams. Falls to floor.*
PAT HATT: *clicks tongue*
Ooh, careful. Did you see any ‘dark and creepy looking’ life forms down there?
NOSEY: Hey. *leaps to
feet and brushes down blazer* I ask the questions. Get it?
PAT HATT: *smirks*
Hm mm.
NOSEY: Good. So…ahem. Those,
uh, Critlen you mentioned. They related to this weird cat?
PAT HATT: *glances around*
What weird cat?
NOSEY: *sneers* Fun-nee.
PAT HATT: Anyhoo, about
the Critlen – They’re the failed creation of Drazin, aka Hades, and the name
was given to them by Jack and it kinda stuck.
NOSEY: You don’t say.
PAT HATT: As a matter of
fact, I do say. See, Jack thought them the demented love child of a Critter and
a Gremlin—
NOSEY: Uh huh.
PAT HATT: Uh huh is
right, ‘cause he went to the dark side and crammed the names together like
those crazy TV show shippers. Ah well. I guess we all have our off moments.
NOSEY: *stares*
PAT HATT: *gives innocent blink*
Anything else you’d like to know?
NOSEY: I dunno. *places
hand on hip and looks around* Just a kinda crazy place you have here,
fella. What are those in that corner? *waves at statues* Some of
the impossible ‘gods of myth’ you mentioned?
PAT HATT: *purses lips*
Let’s just say they’re Zeus, Drazin, Hera, and a bunch of others who are quite
fine staying on Olympus’ Time Fraction.
NOSEY: *mutters*
Now wonder why I didn’t know that?
PAT HATT: But, honestly,
Nosey, not those three. Drazin and Hera just want to take over Earth’s time
fraction, Zeus wants to go—
NOSEY: Time fraction. Time
fraction! *slaps forehead* Sheesh, is nothing else going on except for
these guys splitting up time, like… *shrugs* every fifteen minutes or
so?
PAT HATT: *gives mock cough*
That’s not exactly how a time fraction works.
NOSEY: *checks watch*
That’s how my time works, pal. So…how about that prophecy you said involves
aliens? *snarls at cat* Bet he’s an alien.
Cat snarls back, and narrows eyes.
PAT HATT: It depends on
one’s definition of an alien, you know. *winks at cat* After all, what’s
alien to one may not be alien to another. Does a human think a human is an
alien? Could the dragons be aliens? Could the prophecy be baloney? Could
Prophet Rahe not be able to see past her rather large figure? *raises arms
and shouts to unseen audience* Answer me, Nosey cybernuts! Could Zeus be
Sants Claus? Or maybe there are no aliens at all. Or maybe everyone is an
alien. Did you think of that?
NOSEY: *peers around*
Who you talking to, dude?
PAT HATT: *finishes with…*
Aren’t aliens confusing? No wonder they blow off steam and tip cows over.
NOSEY: Boy… *gives
nervous laugh* I got me a live wire today.
PAT HATT: *walks over to stand next to statue*
Nosey, one thing you’ve not asked.
NOSEY: Stop right there.
I’ve asked everything I wanna know, man. *sidles to stage right ‒which, if
you don’t know, reading cybernuts‒ leads to door marked ‘Out’ *
PAT HATT: Oh, one more,
Nosey! You’re the official unofficial Pukelitzer award winning journalist,
aren’t you?
I.B. Nosey is the one and only winner of this highly coveted award
NOSEY: Uhhh…
PAT HATT: And you’re a
professional and know how to do your job, right?
NOSEY: Uhhh…
PAT HATT: So what you
need to ask is about the Death Defying Three.
NOSEY: Uhhh…
PAT HATT: *snaps fingers*
How’s about I tell you anyway?
NOSEY: Nothing doing. Nobody
tells me—
PAT HATT: As I was
saying ‒ The people of Prophet Rahe’s time fraction were so enamored by Jack,
Emily, and Mason’s tales when told them by Prophet Rahe—
NOSEY: But—
PAT HATT: …who still may
or may not be a prophet, that they gave them that moniker. They even made a
song up about them. One that made the trio cringe.
NOSEY: But—
PAT HATT: They have to
survive Drazin getting in the way, Hera trying to have her way with Jack,
collars that control all, dragons, sea monsters, a giant flying saucer thingy,
Zeus’s cryptic messages (as he doesn’t like to give spoilers)—
NOSEY: But—
PAT HATT: …and fix the
time fraction machine so they can hop to the next one and get home. Oh, and
there may be another explosion or three that they have to avoid.
NOSEY: *gasps*
There’s an explosion right now! *points* That spacey space alien you’re
standing beside ‒ it’s moving!
That spacey space alien Gopter is moving all right - at the speed of Gopter flight (see, even a Gopter can rhyme when he has the time)
PAT HATT: *glances up*
Curious. Something must be really bothering him to come to life like this.
WEIRD SPACEY ALIEN/GOPTER: *growls*
Don’t like the looks of a tweedy-weedy blazer. Disrupts the time fraction.
PAT HATT’S CAT SPITS AND SNARLS:
De - stroy. Oh, boy.
NOSEY: Hey, nobody touches
these one-of-a-kind threads. Back, back… *waves atomic microphone* Zap,
zap, and begone!
GOPTER STEPS FORWARD:
You heard the cat.
NOSEY: You spacey aliens got
no fashion sense. My blazer is perfect. Perfect, I tell ya!
GOPTER: *warns*
You’re in our time fraction now, nosy reporter.
NOSEY: *looks at Pat*
What’s that mean?
PAT HATT: It means…*grins*…tweedy-weedy
blazers don’t belong in ‘A Not So Perfect World’.
RHYMING CAT: Nosey should've moseyed but heavy pocketful of posies make him not so cozy. Meowwww. *gives spacey alien, and a not so perfect, purrrrrrrr*
NOSEY: B-b-but...Aw, forget it! *breaks through 'exit' door, feet doing their stuff as he streaks down sidewalk. Cat and Gopter follow in hot pursuit*
PAT HATT: *calls* Nosey, run faster! I sharpened the cat's claws this morning and...
NOSEY: Scat, cat! *voice fades in distance* I'm not a scratching post! Aiiiii!
********
*********
********
Pat Hatt is a writer who more often than he likes poses as an accountant,
car salesmen, mailman, or one of 21 other jobs he’s had to pay the bills.
With over 100 published written works, he continues to strive to create in
any genre that strikes him. He enjoys learning more about the craft of
writing and learning in general. He is owned by two cats, one of which has
his own rhyming blog, and he resides in Nova Scotia. When not writing,
working, or being used as a scratching post, he can be found at the gym,
playing volleyball, or enjoying a good movie, show, or book.
***********
