— VJOOOM–ppPHACK–BDYNG TUDUM—[Cosmo-jazz jingle that sounds like it was ripped from Freesound.space a thousand years ago, stored in a dying calculator, then compressed so aggressively even the composer felt shame]“Alright. Time-out.
Well, champ.
You survived another chapter.
And—miracle of miracles—you’re still here.You’re out of your damn mind. Seriously.
The author? Sure.
His brain’s been scrambled since chapter one.But you?
What’s your excuse?Fine. Since you crawled all the way to this point…
you’ve earned a little jazz break.
Something like a commercial pause.Except we still don’t have ads, because—and I quote the bastard who forces me to read this:
“The rating isn’t high enough yet to attract advertisers.”
But high enough for everyone to hate us anyway.
If someone—for some sick reason—ever wants to pay for an ad…
please contact this greedy goblin.Maybe then he’ll let me read real lines
instead of this crap I’ll be ashamed of for the rest of my life.Alright, breathe with the jazz, pal.
Ahead lies more pain, stupidity, and questionable decisions.We’ve only just begun…”
— SHKRRUNK!–SHKRRUNK!—“What the hell…
What is that sound?!
I nearly shit myself.What? Speak up, my personal cosmic migraine.
You’re kidding.
THAT’S… the studio phone?Pal, Jackie says some asshole decided we should interrupt our wonderful podcast to give him attention.
Apparently, “you gotta answer—it boosts the ratings.”Of course no one remembers that we’ll get billed for the extra call-service afterward.
Fine.
Alright, sweetie—put the idiot on air.You’re live.
This is Dick Melody™.
And possibly the entire galactic population—
all eight trillion minds.
Most of them stupid.
Like my agent Todd.”
“Krr’tha–val shuu mor’nakai zheee—klok—klok—vrrrth?”
“…Jackie, did the connection die again?
Or did U.S.R0B0TICS™ turn into crap again?What?
That’s a LANGUAGE?Holy shit…
And how, exactly, am I supposed to understand what he’s saying?
Should I start clicking into the microphone too?!Translator. NOW.”
“KLESH’TA–VAL SHUU MOR’NAKAI OK’TA!!!”
[hysterical now, getting louder]“Okay-okay, calm down, you crab-ass motherfucker.
We’ll figure out where it hurts.”
[Jackie is turning on the XereMorphOS]“UUL’NEX THA–MOR’NAKAI–GRIN VESH’KAI!”
[voice climbing higher]“Cosmonglish You BEEP! mother BEEP! son of a BEEP! I can’t deal with this BEEP!Can you BEEP! SPEAK?!”
[Dick pours himself a glass of Johnnie Wacker™, downs it in one gulp, winces, exhales—reality becomes bearable again]“Alright… give us three minutes, our computer is meditating while booting.”
[Three minutes later. XEREX OS™ 5140 wakes up like an elderly blender]“Okay… START…”
CLICK!
“Where’s my FireFossa™… ah, here.”
CLICK!
[A short, painfully recognizable jingle blasts through the broadcast—
every adult listener instantly pretends it doesn't remind them of anything]“…Shit.
I swear Todd was on HornHub™.
And he SWEARS he was emailing his mother-in-law.What was I doing…?
Oh. Right. Jackie—translator.”
TIK-TIK-TIK!
click click click!
CLACK-CLACK-CLACK!
WHUNK-WHAM![And a perfectly dead, corporate voice drones:]"Goggle Translator unavailable.
Please subscribe to
Goggle Translate Business Suit™—
only Ꞩ10,000."“…Jackie.
What.
The.
FUCK.“
“ZHEEE?
“Don’t you ZHEE at me, you dial-up Pokémon!
Listen here, Zhee—
We are LIVE.
On a galactic fucking radio station.
Who the hell let you in here without Cosmonglish?
You people got laws in that slum of yours, or what?
Or do you expect ME to pay out of pocket
to understand your crab-clicking nonsense?!Alright. Pick one…
One—speak Cosmonglish.
Two—talk to the voicemail.
Three—scream into a black hole…
“at least that shit is free.”Jackie.
Cut the Zhee off.
For god’s sake.”
[Connection dies with a loud crackle]“And put that clicker on the blacklist.
What? What are you mumbling there, Jackie? Huh?
…Oh great. Wonderful. Fantastic.
Just fucking perfect.So now I’m, apparently, an official old speciophobic asshole.
Lovely. Exactly what this show was missing.Ratings go up—I drop them.
Ratings go down—I drop them even harder.And Jackie, by the way, is reminding me
that our boss—YES, that slimy son of a bitch—
is ALSO an alien,
and if he hears this segment,
he’ll fire my ass straight into the rim of a black hole,
no severance, no last words,
and probably no funeral—just vaporized on the spot.”
[He jabbed a finger into empty space,
as if the culprit were standing right there]“TODD!
You miserable clump of DNA reject that even a landfill
would refuse on insurance grounds!Why the hell didn’t you tell me before the broadcast
that talking to ‘dial-up Pokémon dipshits’
is now considered a hate incident?!You just let me walk face-first into this shitstorm!
May your aunt AND her entire goddamn house
get swallowed by her own gravitational anomaly!”
[He glared at the dark console panel
as if it were an enemy from a thousand-year war]“…Listen.
I’m too old for all this cosmic inclusion bullshit.These callers?
Half of them click,
the other half hiss,
and the rest talk like a blender chewing gravel.And I’m supposed to treat them all
like delicate emotional nebulae? No.NO FUCKING WAY.
From this moment on…
any alien that calls this station
goes straight through the auto-filter.Let their wet moans, acid gargles, little squeaks,
and mating screams get translated into text automatically.
I don’t give a damn.I am DONE trying to understand species
that communicate through humidity levels
and pre-copulation shrieks.”
[He slapped his palm on the panel.
The panel squeaked like it feared for its life]“What are you muttering now, Jackie? SPEAK UP!
…Fine.
Whatever.
Decision made.And now…
DEAR LISTENERS!
From here on out, Jackie’s takin’ your calls—
yeah, you gremlin bastards—
our very own saint of clickers, burblin’ slimeballs,
and them romantic aliens with… quirks.Done and settled.”