I went over to Crazy Henry's place because he asked me to help him set up a stellar lint trap on the roof. This sounded too crazy to pass up, so I dropped what I was doing (which really wasn't much of anything) and hightailed it over to his apartment -- where I found him ripping the innards out of his microwave. He at least had enough presence of mind to unplug it first. It was an old, boxy model, probably a dozen years old, so I didn't see any problem with him sacrificing it to the demands of astrophysics. He could get a better and newer one down at the thrift store for ten bucks.
"Explain it to me, babushka, how the trapping of the lint is taking place" I said to him; we sometimes joke around with each other using accented voices.
"Tell ya what I'm gonna do, my little crumpet" he boomed back at me. "I have determined that by tweaking this mechanism I can attract and capture lint from outer space aliens when they are doing their laundry . . . ah yes, it should net me quite a bit of boodle . . . "
I dropped my accent -- Crazy Henry was actually having a halfway decent idea for once in his life. It made me begin to wonder if he were actually evolving into a higher life form.
"Dryer lint from the universe?" I asked, impressed in spite of myself.
"Why not? They talk about all this stellar dust falling on earth by the ton each day -- so why can't there be intergalactic dryer lint just floating out there waiting to be snatched up and examined by NASA." He grinned at me. "That's the kind of stuff they give out Nobel Prizes in Astrophysics for" he said happily. For once I didn't feel like arguing with him or even bringing him back to reality. I was in an open and happy frame of mind, because an old girlfriend had refriended me on Facebook that morning.
So we fiddled with his decrepit microwave, until Crazy Henry pronounced that it was ready for a test run. We took it up on the roof and pointed it skyward. Then Crazy Henry plugged it in. There was an immediate shower of blue sparks that flew up at great speed -- some of them landed on a pile of leaves next door, starting them on fire.
But before we could call the fire department a huge grey fuzzy ball of lint hurtled out of the sky and landed at our feet. It must have been five feet in diameter. And out of it stepped a little gray man. He had no eyebrows and his ear lobes hung down to his waist -- but otherwise he looked like a regular sort of person who might emerge from a giant lint ball. Of course, he was only three feet tall.
"Greetings" he called out cheerfully. "I am a Gleep, from deep space -- and your device has interrupted my flight to bring me here, undoubtedly to shower me with treasures more glorious than any Gleep could imagine!"
"Whoops" I whispered to Crazy Henry.
"You said a mouthful" he replied, sotto voce. But Crazy Henry is never at a loss for craziness -- so he ushered the Gleep down into his apartment and showered him with presents including a bar of soap on a string, a Slinky, two bowling balls, and a bottle of ketchup.
"Truly, these are wonders beyond reckoning!" gasped the Gleep to us, and then bowed at our feet.
"None of that, Mr. Gleep" said Crazy Henry gruffly. "We don't believe in that sort of scrapping and brown-nosing." He reached down and gently lifted the prostate Gleep up.
"And now, noble sirs -- I give you a small token of my deepest gratitude -- from my home world of Gleepsy" said the Gleep, and from beneath his green cape he produced a waxy white box, from which emanated a lovely smell.
"Don't touch it" I cautioned Crazy Henry. "It may be a trap of some kind. Let me take it." So I took it and sniffed it closely.
"Smells real good" I told the Gleep, without opening it. The box was warm to the touch.
"It is our sacred Pork Vindaloo, with which we honor all those that honor us. Eat it in good health!" Saying which, the Gleep popped through the roof, leaving a gaping hole. We could see him reenter the big lint ball and take off.
"Darn it!" I exclaimed, as I opened up the box of pork vindaloo and began spooning it out onto two plates, "I forget to get any samples from his lint ball!"
"Not to worry, boychik" said Crazy Henry with a grinning accent. He held up a dusty clump of interstellar lint. "Oy, I should maybe let him get away widdout a souvenir -- nu?"
"How perspicacious" I rasped back at him. "Now let us find something to plug yon hole in the roof before the landlord places us in durance vile . . . "
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