Sergey and Alec
03-06-2004, 07:56
Sergey and Alec are, as usual, industriously toiling away on the project of the moment in Hangar 12. To the untrained eye, today's project appears to be nothing more than a random jumble of wires and electronic bits. To the trained eye, however, it appears to be nothing less than a random jumble of wires and electronic bits.
Sergey is up on top of a large toolbox, carefully adjusting one of the electronic bits, as Alec holds what appears to be a soup can to his ear and calls out periodically in Elbonian.
For the sake of the story, let us assume for a few minutes that we understand Elbonian.
"Left a little. Now right a little. Up. More. Up. Down a little. Up and to the right just a little... ah! There it is, my..."
We interrupt here to explain a little something about Elbonian society and customs. Alec is about to refer to Sergey by an untranslatable Elbonian term that means, roughly, brother of my pig's uncle's left testicle. This is, in fact, a term of loyal and enduring brotherhood and friendship.
Back to the story.
"We have succeeded! Our families will be proud."
Sergey climbs down off of the toolbox and picks up another soup can. Both cans appear to be attached to the wires and electronic bits by pieces of binder twine, which is pulled tight as they press the cans to their ears.
"Yes Alec, we are receiving Radio Free Elbonia! How good it will be to hear the news of home once again."
Both Elbonians settle onto a couple of disused aircraft seats and press the cans to their ears to listen to the news from home.
After a time, however, they are looking quite grave. They put the cans down and engage in a serious discussion, which, for purposes of narrative convenience, we can once again understand perfectly:
"Sergey, it is a most terrible thing that we have heard."
"Indeed Alec. Man should not have to suffer such inhumanity."
"True. We must do something to help. But how? And what?"
"What is the question. We must ponder this situation and decide upon a course of action."
They ponder for a time, which is an activity requiring them to sit and tug at their long beards, looking all the while very serious and thoughtful. Finally, after the traditionally appropriate amount of time, Sergey sits up and speaks.
"I believe I have an answer, Alec."
With this, Sergey stands up and walks over to what, at first glance, would appear to be an old Igloo cooler. A second glance would, in fact, actually confirm this diagnosis. Sergey lifts the lid and reaches in to produce a small brown tin with Elbonian writing on the side.
Alec, who has been watching Sergey, smiles.
"Yes, Sergey! Of course! It is the obvious solution."
Alec stands up and opens a drawer of the toolbox, bringing forth a very crude wooden box. Sergey, meanwhile, pulls out a slide rule and an abacus. Anyone who knows anything about the Elbonians would, at this point, start looking for a bomb shelter.
A few hours later, in the dead of night, Sergey and Alec may be seen (not very well, but seen all the same) scurrying about near the threshhold of 30L at San Jose. Specifically, Sergey appears to be unrolling a large rubber band, while Alec stands on the centerline at the threshhold, holding up something that looks not entirely unlike a crude wooden bubble octant, and taking a few readings. Periodically, he uses the slide rule to move some beads on the abacus near his feet.
Eventually, Alec nods to Sergey and together they hook the large rubber band to two poles near the runway threshhold. Alec paces off a distance behind the threshhold and marks a position while Sergey disappears and returns with a tow cart from behind the PGA main hangar. Together, they hook the rubber band to the tow cart, and Sergey drives to the point marked by Alec. All is ready. Alec pulls out the small brown tin and carefully places it in the center of the now-very-stretched rubber band, then removes himself from what is most obviously the line of fire.
The Elbonians remove their furry hats and hold them over their hearts as Sergey pulls the little lever on the tow cart hitch and lets go the rubber band.
with a mighty "SNAP!!" followed swiftly by a small sonic "boom!" the small brown tin is hurled through the sound barrier and into the night.
The Elbonians look at each other, satisfied with a job well done. They unhook and roll up their rubber band and remove all to Hangar 12, where they toast their success with coffee and stale doughnuts.
Sergey is up on top of a large toolbox, carefully adjusting one of the electronic bits, as Alec holds what appears to be a soup can to his ear and calls out periodically in Elbonian.
For the sake of the story, let us assume for a few minutes that we understand Elbonian.
"Left a little. Now right a little. Up. More. Up. Down a little. Up and to the right just a little... ah! There it is, my..."
We interrupt here to explain a little something about Elbonian society and customs. Alec is about to refer to Sergey by an untranslatable Elbonian term that means, roughly, brother of my pig's uncle's left testicle. This is, in fact, a term of loyal and enduring brotherhood and friendship.
Back to the story.
"We have succeeded! Our families will be proud."
Sergey climbs down off of the toolbox and picks up another soup can. Both cans appear to be attached to the wires and electronic bits by pieces of binder twine, which is pulled tight as they press the cans to their ears.
"Yes Alec, we are receiving Radio Free Elbonia! How good it will be to hear the news of home once again."
Both Elbonians settle onto a couple of disused aircraft seats and press the cans to their ears to listen to the news from home.
After a time, however, they are looking quite grave. They put the cans down and engage in a serious discussion, which, for purposes of narrative convenience, we can once again understand perfectly:
"Sergey, it is a most terrible thing that we have heard."
"Indeed Alec. Man should not have to suffer such inhumanity."
"True. We must do something to help. But how? And what?"
"What is the question. We must ponder this situation and decide upon a course of action."
They ponder for a time, which is an activity requiring them to sit and tug at their long beards, looking all the while very serious and thoughtful. Finally, after the traditionally appropriate amount of time, Sergey sits up and speaks.
"I believe I have an answer, Alec."
With this, Sergey stands up and walks over to what, at first glance, would appear to be an old Igloo cooler. A second glance would, in fact, actually confirm this diagnosis. Sergey lifts the lid and reaches in to produce a small brown tin with Elbonian writing on the side.
Alec, who has been watching Sergey, smiles.
"Yes, Sergey! Of course! It is the obvious solution."
Alec stands up and opens a drawer of the toolbox, bringing forth a very crude wooden box. Sergey, meanwhile, pulls out a slide rule and an abacus. Anyone who knows anything about the Elbonians would, at this point, start looking for a bomb shelter.
A few hours later, in the dead of night, Sergey and Alec may be seen (not very well, but seen all the same) scurrying about near the threshhold of 30L at San Jose. Specifically, Sergey appears to be unrolling a large rubber band, while Alec stands on the centerline at the threshhold, holding up something that looks not entirely unlike a crude wooden bubble octant, and taking a few readings. Periodically, he uses the slide rule to move some beads on the abacus near his feet.
Eventually, Alec nods to Sergey and together they hook the large rubber band to two poles near the runway threshhold. Alec paces off a distance behind the threshhold and marks a position while Sergey disappears and returns with a tow cart from behind the PGA main hangar. Together, they hook the rubber band to the tow cart, and Sergey drives to the point marked by Alec. All is ready. Alec pulls out the small brown tin and carefully places it in the center of the now-very-stretched rubber band, then removes himself from what is most obviously the line of fire.
The Elbonians remove their furry hats and hold them over their hearts as Sergey pulls the little lever on the tow cart hitch and lets go the rubber band.
with a mighty "SNAP!!" followed swiftly by a small sonic "boom!" the small brown tin is hurled through the sound barrier and into the night.
The Elbonians look at each other, satisfied with a job well done. They unhook and roll up their rubber band and remove all to Hangar 12, where they toast their success with coffee and stale doughnuts.