zurp
stop talking to yourself.
zurp (zerp)
Scort Muggins, Human Year 3271:
Zurp was the last planet nearby Meiti, so we had absolutely no choice but to continue our procrastination. It wasn’t like I was avoiding my father. I just didn’t feel like seeing him that day. It wasn’t my vibe. I wasn’t in the mood for receiving life-altering information - if that would even be the case when I saw him. I doubted it.
We walked through a small town on the planet’s surface until we saw a Zurpian in the distance. We were all confused when we walked closer, not believing what we were seeing. We were looking at me. We had seen a lot of flirking crazy stuff in the universe, but it isn’t everyday you come across yourself. Before I embraced my long lost twin brother and broke down crying, I saw more identical copies of myself walking through the small town. This wasn’t a heartfelt story about twins separated at birth, finally finding each other on a different planet, and attempting to make up for lost time. This was something more sinister. A whole town of clones had been created from my DNA - without my knowledge or consent - for an unknown purpose. My guess was organ harvesting or medical testing or hunting the most dangerous game - me.
I wasn’t completely wrong… but I was pretty wrong. Turns out, Zurpians were masters of mimicry. When we arrived on the planet and came across the first Zurpian, it had already morphed into an exact replica of me. My theory was that this would create a chain reaction in which the Zurpians that mimicked me were then mimicked by other Zurpians that hadn’t even seen me yet. At a certain point, every Zurpian on Zurp would be a Scortian on Scort. Pleeft was jealous because they didn’t choose to mimic her. Luskem was glad they weren’t being mimicked. Ah Luskem… so shy it’s flirking adorable.
It wasn’t just my appearance that the Zurpians were able to replicate, but my personality as well, as if they could see inside my brain and duplicate it, except for my personal memories. In essence, when I spoke with a Zurpian, I was speaking with myself, with no knowledge of my past.
I flirkin’ loved it. I had never met anyone so funny, skilled, and intelligent. My Zurpian-self told us all about the history of Zurp in an fascinating and entertaining way - nothing like the dull Balohnese. And a Zurpian was pretty nice to look at, if I do say so myself. Though, I think the Zurpians may have exaggerated the size of my gut. I admit that I hadn’t had a chance to exercise much during our travels, but their projection was a little mean.
The Scortians in the small town took us to a much bigger city not too far away and my hypothesis was correct. The whole city was already full of identical copies of myself. Giving myself a high five always seemed depressing, but now it was super cool.
I told the Zurpians stories and anecdotes from my life that I knew they would love, and we laughed for days. Then I told them about our father that left and our mother that was hooked on pills, and we all cried together as things became much more introspective. It was incredibly therapeutic. They were so proud of me for overcoming such hardship and finding such success. It was nice to finally hear out loud.
The next couple of days, I learned things about myself I didn’t know before, or chose not to notice. I touched my face a lot, I picked at my cuticles, and I very obviously moved my tongue around my gums, collecting food that got stuck up there while I was eating. It wasn’t a cute look. I needed to work on that.
Things slowly started to take a turn for the worse on Zurp. The Zurpians-turned-Scortians began screwing up their duties on the planet, knowingly or unknowingly, and refused to take responsibility for it. Most just abandoned whatever disaster they created. Soon there were fires around the planet that weren’t being dealt with. Parts of structures were broken, never to be repaired. Accidents resulting in death became common and ignored. The Scorts that had the resources fled the planet.
I don’t know how it happened. How it all went so wrong and why. But all of these Scorts were scared. Scared to face the problems in their own lives. Whether they created the problems or had the problems thrust upon them, it didn’t matter. Instead of putting in the effort to fix what was wrong or improve on a situation, it was easier to abandon the issue or ignore it all together. Blaming someone else rested just fine on their conscience and they didn’t have to feel guilty or strive or struggle. They simply moved onto the next thing without dwelling on it. Carelessness was more than a humorous, quirky character trait, it was an irredeemable lifestyle choice.
I would’ve immediately harped on the Zurpians for being so terrible, but I would’ve only been yelling at myself. Their rampant negligence that was ruining the planet mirrored my similarly selfish acts on other planets.
Well screw them. You can only imagine the determination that this harsh experience of self-discovery instilled in me. There would be no more dilly and even less dally. I wouldn’t be scared any longer. I wouldn’t run away from my life. It was time to go to Meiti and face my father.
Getting to my ship turned out to be more difficult than expected. Scorts attempting to escape the planet were posing as me and trying to convince Pleeft and Luskem to let them aboard my ship. It would’ve been easy if I was only up against one Scort copy. I would’ve been able to convince Pleeft and Luskem in seconds that I was the real Scort. But there were too many. I was lost in the crowd, in a chorus of frustrated yelling (See Figure 40.1).
Figure 40.1 - A crowd of Scortians. I’m the most handsome one.
I needed to separate myself. Luckily, I was sure the Zurpians couldn’t mimic the tools and weapons I had on my person. I took out my phaser blaster in the middle of the crowd and fired three times into the sky, making sure I didn’t hurt anyone. A third of the crowd dispersed and the rest of the Scorts pulled out their own phaser blasters that they, indeed, were able to replicate. Instead of shooting into the air, the Scorts turned on each other as a battle royale style fight to the death commenced. I killed myself 27 times over the course of the blood bath. Before it was down to only one, one of the Scorts grabbed Luskem and put a phaser blaster to their head-body.
“Stop!!! I don’t want anymore Scorts to die. I’m the real Scort. I’ll be boarding the ship before there is any more bloodshed. Put your weapons down,” the imposter Scort demanded.
Clever. All of the identical Scorts put down their blasters, knowing that I would never want anything to happen to my friend Luskem. After all, they still had to prove to Pleeft and Luskem that they were me. But I was the only one who didn’t put down my weapon. Pleeft pointed at me.
“Him. We’re taking him. All you other Scorts can flirk off,” Pleeft said.
Pleeft and Luskem knew that I knew that Luskem would be able to regenerate after they got a blaster to their head-body. I’ve witnessed Luskem regrow from just their leg twice now. None of the other Scorts would’ve known that.
I boarded my ship with Luskem, Pleeft, and toast-bot. Or maybe I was a copy of Scort after all, and he had already been killed. The real Scort could’ve just as easily been in the pile of dead Scortians. As the doors to the ship closed, no one would ever know for sure exactly which Scort boarded…
Nahhhhhh it was totally me.
RATINGS
Hospitality — 9/10
Food — 6/10
Sights — 10/10
Activities — 7/10
Family Friendly — 1/10
Intense and Unavoidable Self-Reflection — 0/10