epilogue
it all comes to an… end?
epilogue (eh-pih-lahg)
Scort Muggins, Human Year 3276:
As Luskem, Pleeft, toast-bot and I made our way back to Plysmorphis, we quickly stopped at some planets along the way in order to right some wrongs.
We checked to make sure that the Balohnese repaired the pink shell around their planet. They did.
Luskem returned home to Ertaw to let their family know that they weren’t dead. And then said goodbye to them once again when we left.
Pleeft chose not to return to her home planet of Spaltnia.
We went to Xinth to check in on the progress of my plan to give each citizen all of the senses. Progress was slow, but moving along. I pointed to a few more magnets and we left to adoring applause and cheers.
I apologized again to the Nodusans in their papasans… but then they read my mind and I offended all of them yet again.
We didn’t go back to Chaxia for fear that I would accidentally mutilate more Chaxians.
The 95% have successfully taken over Dividia and continue to rule fairly, with everyone financially able to live on the light half of the planet.
On Bkwoodo, we saved Barthul from his eternal virtual hell… that I put him in.
We rescued Pupupiipii from forever floating back and forth inside the gas giant Hushiiarded. Pupupiipii didn’t survive.
We had one last snowball fight with Shtef on Nehmat.
We had one more fun juice filled night on Wimber.
We made one final fart sound for the supercomputer on Hethuin to hear.
We checked in on the Onumatians who were slowly rebuilding after the catastrophic volcanic eruption.
Then we went to Plysmorphis. I had been off of the daily crumbs of their food for a little over a month, although I was extremely agitated most of that time. It was hard for me to keep my hands off of their food, especially while being on the planet and knowing that I could now have as much as I wanted. I stayed strong with the help of Luskem and Pleeft. They both told toast-bot to never ask me if I wanted some toast while we were on the planet.
It was difficult to track down my father, but I knew he was there. There was no doubt in my mind. We never quit looking. After quite some time, we finally found him… in a basement… completely knocked out from eating too much Plysmorphian food. I barely recognized the man. It had been 54 years since he left my mom and I when I was just 4 years old. It had been over 36 years since he posted anything on social media. And he was drugged up on Plysmorphian food, knocked out in a dark basement the whole time. What a low life.
I slapped him awake. He didn’t even know who I was.
“I’m your son,” I told him.
“Scort?” he said, confused, barely able to form thoughts after being passed out for years.
He smiled, happy to see the son that he left so long ago. I didn’t know what to say to him. So I didn’t say anything.
He passed out again. I grabbed Pleeft and placed her on top of Luskem. I picked up my father and threw him over toast-bot. We boarded the ship and went back to Mars. We went back home.
My plan was to clear my mom’s name and my name, and finally show everyone that we had nothing to do with my father’s disappearance. It didn’t matter what happened to him after that. I didn’t care. If he wanted to run away again, fine. If the Human Galactic wanted to arrest him for all of the laws he broke on other planets, so be it. He deserved it after what he did. Unfortunately, the Human Galactic had also been keeping tabs on each of the laws that I broke too. I should’ve read the interplanetary travel guidelines much closer. That wasn’t a time to skim.
I also hadn’t been keeping track of what was going on in the Human Galactic. After I had been out of commission on Plysmorphis, captured and studied on Chaxia, and trapped on Nomerst and Bolem, it had been over 36 human years since I left the solar system and went to Mugasha. Now, the Human Galactic is at war with The Three. Knowing that there was an extraterrestrial threat to their planet, The Three banded together in order to fight the Human Galactic. The Fuhgos studied the technology on the five spaceships that were shot down and replicated our weapons and vehicles. With the gift of space travel immediately in their hands, The Three expanded throughout their galaxy at an incredible rate. The Slunts continued their practices of conserving resources and showed the Karks and Fuhgos their ways. The Fuhgos used the excess resources to further improve their technology, and the Karks did the conquering - less raping, but quite a bit more pillaging. The Three’s influence in the universe expanded rapidly.
The war between the Human Galactic and The Three has taken the lives of 31.2 billion beings with no signs of coming to an end.
…
After publishing all of my activities across the universe, there was enough evidence to charge me with 31.2 billion counts of indirect manslaughter, 3 counts of illegal manipulation of and contact with primitive beings, and a couple dozen counts of second degree murder. My father was charged with similar crimes, though nothing as extreme as sparking an intergalactic war. We were both sentenced to life in a high security space prison a few million lightyears away from any inhabited planet or moon. We were the only inmates.
Pleeft and Luskem never visited. Jerks.
The first few months, I ignored my father. I didn’t have anything to say to him, and although he tried, there was nothing he could say to me that would change my opinion of him.
One day, he came up to me in the yard with a ball and only said one word.
“Catch?”
I softened. I had dreamed of playing a game of catch with my father ever since he left. I hesitated… and grabbed the ball. We tossed it back and forth.
“You know, you and I aren’t that different,” he said.
Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.
He continued, “You and I both left Mars… left your mom. You and I both got a little too into Plysmorphian food. You and I both interfered with some alien species that we probably shouldn’t have. We messed up.”
I stopped playing catch. He wasn’t wrong. Somehow I had become my father while never wanting to be anything like him. Classic story. I should’ve seen it coming. I threw the ball back, harder.
“But I never meant to hurt anyone,” I rebutted.
“Neither did I.”
“You left when I was 4!”
“I left when I was 22. Same age as you.”
“But I didn’t have a son!”
He took a moment before saying anything else.
“We were so young. I didn’t know how to be a father.”
“You don’t need to tell me that.”
This man didn’t take responsibility for anything. He blamed all of his problems on everyone else. Everything was his fault, but nothing was his fault.
“I thought the best thing I could do for you was not be around. What was I supposed to do?”
“Be around! That’s the thing that makes you more than a biological father. That’s what makes you a shab.”
“A what?”
He may have gotten caught up on 51 PLANETS, but I guess he skimmed over my post about Meiti. I dropped the ball. This coward wasn’t my shab, and he never would be. My real shab is Gliff. Gliff was the one who took me in. Gliff was the one who raised me. Gliff was the one who was always around. I left the yard. Billips Muggins shouted after me -
“At least I didn’t cause an intergalactic war that’s killed billions.”
Flirk him. It was enough having to grapple with that on my own. I didn’t need my flirkin’ absentee, deadbeat father rubbing it in my flirking face.
I hated him.
…
A couple months later, Gliff visited me in prison again. He had come a couple of times by then. I thanked him for raising me, for always being around. From the bottom of my heart, I thanked him for being my shab.
“Enough of that. There will be plenty of time to thank me,” he said.
“In here, there’s plenty of time, but little opportunity.”
“Well maybe you won’t be in here for as long as you think.”
He smiled.
Right then, there was a massive explosion just outside the visiting room. The walls of the prison crumbled. Alarms sounded. Most of the guards were knocked off their feet. But there would be more.
Gliff and I walked over the rubble. I tried to see where the blast came from, but there was a light shining right in my face. It was too bright to make anything out. Gliff and I both covered our eyes, but he waved at something to come closer.
The bright light dimmed. I couldn’t believe it. It was my ship.
The ship landed and out came Luskem, Pleeft, and toast-bot. With their lack of appendages and opposable thumbs, I wondered who had been driving.
“Good to see you, Scort,” Luskem said.
“Now I know why you never visited.” I hugged them.
The guards started shooting. They were getting closer.
“Let’s go!” Pleeft screamed.
We all ran onto the ship, Gliff by my side. Before the doors closed, I saw my father walking over the rubble. The guards were running toward him, about to surround him. He was too proud to ask, but his eyes were pleading for me to take him along. I didn’t want to. We hadn’t mended our relationship. He hadn’t changed. He didn’t deserve to escape.
I waved for him to come aboard. My father was the spiteful one, not me. I wasn’t my father.
At least, not anymore.
I hope you’ve enjoyed 51 PLANETS TO SEE BEFORE THE UNIVERSE COLLAPSES. I know I have. Thanks for reading.
Will there be a sequel? Maybe! Maybe there will be 52 planets in the next one. Maybe it’ll be about Scort and the gang fighting in the war between the Human Galactic and The Three. Maybe it’ll be about something else entirely. One thing’s for sure: It would be nice if this site went viral, and Scort’s ghost writer was paid to write it.