Riff Raff and Magenta stood on the sidewalk,
looking at the cars pass by.
"I don't think this is Transgender," Magenta said.
Riff Raff felt the cool breeze brush against his
newly shaved head. He looked around for some type of familiarity
but couldn't find any. He answered her, "This is definitely not
Transgender."
An old woman passed by them, and Magenta stopped
her, asking, "I'm sorry, I wonder if you might be able to answer something.
What planet are we on?"
The old woman looked at them like they were crazy.
She waved a "leave-me-alone" hand to them and walked away. Riff Raff
called out to her, "What she means is, where specifically are we?"
The woman shouted as she walked away, "Europe!
Now leave me alone, you wackos!"
"Europe?" Magenta asked aloud.
"Earth," Riff Raff responded, "Dr. Scott sent us
to earth."
Magenta turned to her brother, "Earth? But
he was supposed to send us to Transgender."
Riff Raff started to say something, but was interrupted
by a familiar voice approaching him from his left. He turned to see
Bert Schnick stepping up to him. Ansalong was by his side.
"I don't believe it," Riff Raff said, "Another Transylvanian."
"Make that two," Ansalong added, "We've been here
about 15 minutes, checkin' out the place. We've got some belongings
around the corner -- things we took with us."
"Well," Magenta said, "What will we do now?"
Bert spoke up, "I suggest we start new lives here.
If we have to, we'll change our names, create roles, make up a fake history.
If we're stuck here in Europe, we might as well try to blend in."
"I agree," Ansalong said.
Bert added, "And get jobs. We'll need money.
With the best lies, we could pass ourselves off as teachers, doctors, lawyers,
actors. . . . anything we want! We can make it happen. Just
as long as we don't let on that we're from out there in the cosmos."
"Cosmo," Riff Raff said, "I like the sound of that.
I think that'll be my new name."
"Sounds good to me," Ansalong said to him.
Riff Raff stepped up to her and asked, "So you're
no longer mad at me?"
Ansalong shook her head, "No. I'm not mad.
Columbia's death was an accident."
Magenta said, "Well, let's get going. There's
a lot to do. It seems we're going to be here for a long time."
The group of them started to walk down the street,
when suddenly, as they rounded the corner, Ansalong bumped into somebody.
It was a man with striking features.
"I'm sorry," he said, with a British accent, "Are
you alright?"
Ansalong found herself speechless, lost in his handsome
looks. Awkwardly, she said, "Uh, yes. I'm fine."
They looked at each other for a few seconds, neither
of them speaking. Finally, Ansalong extended her hand, saying, "I'm
Ansalong."
"Ansalong," he said, the British accent thick, "That's
an interesting name. My name's Rick. My friends call me Ricky."
THE END.
And now ... for some final thoughts from the author.