Free Zorgamazoo by Robert Paul Weston Page A

much of the stuff it leaks out of their ears.
And not only from people, but from places as well.
There’s a great many places the vapor can dwell.
    Â 
    All around the TV it’s especially thick,
which is why a TV can make some people sick.
It can also be found in the emptiest nooks
of bookshelves that no longer have any books.
    Â 
    While this Tedium Steam, for whatever it’s worth,
is not really noticed, down here, on the Earth,
up on Graybalon-Four, the stuff is like gold!
It was mined from the ground. It was traded and sold.
    Â 
    In fact, it was used as an energy source,
to power their trains (and their buses, of course).
All that Tedium Steam, through the night and the day
kept everything moving in every which way.
    There were steam-powered toasters
and steam-powered drills.
There were steam-powered factories,
steam-powered mills.
There were steam-powered houses
and steam-powered cars,
and steam-powered everything under the stars!
    Â 
    And so, over time, it would certainly seem,
that Graybalon-Four…would run out of Steam.
    The politicians, you see, had stiffly decreed:
“There’s a ton of the stuff! Even more than we need!
There’s more,” they declared, “than at first it appears!
There’s enough to last upwards of billions of years!”
    Â 
    So all of the people on Graybalon-Four,
built factories, houses and buses galore!
Because everyone thought, without even a doubt,
that their Tedium Steam—it would never run out.
    Politicians, however, are commonly wrong,
and the Tedium Steam didn’t last very long.
    Where once the whole planet had “more than enough,”
there soon was a worrying lack of the stuff.
    Â 
    So the Graylians gathered on Parliament Hill.
Some were shaking their fists.
Some were solemn and still.
    Â 
    â€œPrime Minister, sir!” the Graylians cried.
“You said we had tons! But we haven’t! You lied!”
    Â 
    Unmoved, the Prime Minister uttered a snort.
In his mind, he was planning a pithy retort.
But before he could speak, he was rather amazed
to hear someone’s voice being suddenly raised.
    Â 
    â€œWait!” said the voice. “Please! Hold on a sec!
Our situation is grim! It’s a bit of a wreck!
But here’s what I’m thinking: If we’ve got the guts,
then I’ve an idea—and it might save our butts.”
    Â 
    The Prime Minister, startled, looked over the crowd.
He adjusted his glasses and shouted aloud,
“Who said that? Who are you? Which one of you spoke?
I certainly hope you weren’t making a joke!”
    (You see, telling a joke or pulling a prank,
on Graybalon-Four, was like robbing a bank.
If you said to a stranger, “Knock, knock,” or “Who’s there?”
you’d be dragged off to jail by the roots of your hair.)
    Â 
    â€œOh no,” said the voice, sounding suddenly small,
“It wasn’t a joke! No-no, not at all!
I was telling the truth. I’ve thought of a way,
to keep everything working and perfectly gray.”
    The Prime Minister paused. He squinted. He stared.
(He was old, after all, and his sight was impaired.)
“Well, whoever you are, before making your claim,
you first must come out! You must tell us your name!”
    Â 
    The crowd moved aside. It was parted in two,
and the stranger came forward.
He pushed himself through.
    He stood on his toes, to better be heard.
“I’m
    Â 

Dullbert,” he said,
“Hohummer, the Third. . .”

Chapter 13
    an insidious plan

    Dullbert, hello,” the Prime Minster said, “so what’s this idea that you’ve got in your head?”
    Â 
    â€œWell, now,” said Dullbert, “here’s what I thought:
Maybe Tedium Steam can be borrowed or bought.
    We could trade with some place
where the people are bored.
Then our energy needs might all be restored!”
    Â 
    The Prime Minister nodded. He was stroking his chin.
His lips wrinkled up in a