Sunday Fiction: The Best Book Ever Written, Chapter 1

Author’s Note: For those unfamiliar with The Best Book Ever Written, please reference the Foreword here.

Trillions of light years away, past vast expanses of time and space, is a delightful cluster of stars and gas known as the Smiley Face Galaxy. It’s appropriately named because if one looks at it from a certain angle, crosses one’s eyes, and then closes them, it will look just like a face that is somewhat bemused. Included in this bemused expression is a slight grin, two eyes, and a nose that looks like it is in the throes of a good sneeze. Throughout the entire universe, no galaxy is better to live in than the Smiley Face Galaxy.

Nestled just above the drip of the nose in the Smiley Face Galaxy is a binary star system with several dozen interesting planets orbiting them in various states and patterns. The most extraordinary of these planets is the one known as Whizbang, which orbits both stars in a figure-eight pattern. Earth can only manage an elliptical orbit, which looks amazingly like the number “0.” Other planets that harbor life-forms in varying states of intelligence can manage an orbit so narrow it might resemble the number “1.” Because Whizbang can do a number “8,” it can count higher than all other planets, and therefore its superiority in all things is unquestionable.

As luck, fortune, and good sense would have it, Whizbang is also home to the most wonderful species ever to have been evolved, created, or otherwise come into being. This superior race calls itself “the Wizzits.” They aren’t to be confused with the “Ziwwits” from “Zhewbang” which is several thousand light years away in the toothy maw of the Smiley Face Galaxy, perhaps the most backwards and least intelligent species known to anyone worth knowing and humans too.

To be sure, it is not the intention of the Wizzits to lord their inherent superiority over humanity; it is a simple fact that, once accepted, should lead to a wonderful relationship for both species. How are the Wizzits superior? Well, for those people who doubt the veracity of a talking rock using an impressionable human to write down what said rock dictates, let me tell you!

The Wizzits have cured all poverty and hunger in addition to streamlining social structure and hierarchy. Where humans have caste systems, socio-economic classes, and other forms of separating people, the Wizzits have two social classes. The first is called the “New Order Being Largely Exceptional Society,” which the Wizzits shorten to “Butpuks.” The second is the working class, or “Sorta Limited And Very Exploitable Society.” This term is shortened to “Gufbalz.” As you can imagine, the Butpuks and Gufbalz get along swimmingly, each given a different role in society that is complementary and not exploiting the good nature of the Gufbalz whatsoever.

Also, the Wizzits perfected their economy centuries ago. They got rid of money, instead relying upon the Gufbalz to make everything for everyone. This worked out so well that some Wizzits considered letting the Butpuks help out, but the Butpuks eventually agreed they didn’t want to interfere with the Gufbalz’s sense of self worth. Whereas on Earth, this would have led to rioting, the Wizzits settled their differences quite amiably after a few million Gufbalz were accidentally slaughtered.

In matters of state, the Wizzits are immensely superior to their human counterparts. The Wizzit solution to bribery and corruption? Make it legal. The Wizzit solution to free elections? Replace them with cat videos and recreational drugs. The Wizzit solution to representative government that doesn’t do what the people want? More cat videos and maybe ones with dogs too. For ten thousand of your Earth years, the Wizzits have had no misrepresentation in government, no rigged elections, and no corrupt officials. Everyone loves the Wizzit Parliament and Ministry of Long Names That Make No Sense.

Even in matters of religion, the Wizzits have edged out their competing species. Many, many years ago the Wizzits decided that the real gods that created our universe should be given an equal chance for followers, so the Divine Buffet was formed. Instead of going into a boring structure with mundane songs and questionable teachings, Wizzits could go to the Divine Buffet and sample what these gods and goddesses had to offer. The only requirement was that everyone had to pay homage to Slorkos, the Divine Sneezeguard. He keeps the Buffet clean and orderly. Failure to believe in Him will result in dying by fire or perhaps a rash in an uncomfortable place.

For thousands of years, the Wizzits have lived a perfectly idyllic life on their humble planet of Whizbang. Eventually things got a little boring. We Wizzits turned to science and the arts for release, and pretty soon we had developed technologies you humans could only dream of achieving. One such technology involved space travel, and it was this that led to the greatest inspiration in Wizzit history: telling other people to stop evolving because they couldn’t possibly compete with us.

The Wizzit Ministry of Science and Practical Jokes immediately seized upon this commission from the Wizzit Parliament. How were they to carry out this marvelous mission of mercy and general enlightenment for the rest of the Universe? Their solution was simple, efficient, and quite frankly better than anything anyone else could have come up with. Higher ups in the Ministry decided to build a Really Big Rocket Ship and put the brightest minds in all of Whizbang in it. Then, it was to travel the stars on a whirlwind tour called the “Telling Everyone Else Off Nicely Parade.”

Nothing could go wrong with this plan.

While the Gufbalz worked diligently on building the rocket itself, the Ministry’s Butpuks scoured the planet for the ideal candidates to remind other sentient species they should STOP TRYING™. The beginning of the project, then, was to hold a beauty pageant/mixed martial arts tournament in the hopes of finding a dashing, charismatic, and beautifully dangerous leader figure that would be able to kill other world leaders until they got to one that could be seduced. After a year’s worth of swimsuit competitions, gratuitous objectification, meaningless questions, and hundreds of broken faces, the Ministry found its fearless leader: Major Jeams T. Krik, a nice Wizzit Butpuk lady from Gloxnort.

With the leader found, it was time for the Ministry to congratulate itself while letting the good Major assemble her team. Of course, the Ministry was the epitome of smooth running and efficient bureaucracy, so naturally they decided to let the Major do all the difficult thinking while they would second-guess and take the credit from afar. It’s really the only sensible way of doing things in government, business, and everyday interpersonal relationships.

Taking the Ministry’s lead, Major Krik found Captain Snood – a Gufbal officer that was quite adept at giving insightful advice while lacking the sense of self-worth to defend himself when the Major steals his good ideas. Snood was a Wizzit’s Wizzit, introverted, shy, intelligent, and easily manipulated. Pretty soon the Wizzit News Services learned of the first member of Krik’s team, and everyone was excited at the positive direction the Major was leading things.

Next up was the crew scientist, a Wizzit of no social designation named Zeeblo. Zeeblo was the world’s foremost expert on the major scientific fields of Phrenology, Witchcraft, and Checkers. His main strengths were in his impeccable command of the Wizzit language, taking normally obscure ideas and concepts and explaining them in such a straightforward fashion that even a simple Gufbal could understand it. In such a way he dabbled in other schools of thought, beginning with his treatise on philosophy entitled, “THINKING IS HARD.” Following up his success there, he published a short book on physics titled, “ROCKS FALL DOWN.” Finally, he even brought chemistry to the masses when he published, “IT BURNS THE SKIN.” Getting such a genius to go on the mission made it impossible to fail.

Major Krik assembled the rest of the team, Wizzits who spoke occasionally but didn’t have the credentials to share in any meaningful kind of glory. These people would be trusted to obey commands and watch blinking lights, with maybe occasionally yelling out if something went wrong so an important person could do something about it. All in all, there were one-hundred of the best Wizzits that Whizbang could muster on one giant rocket.

Launch day was a widely celebrated and publicized event. Zeeblo gave his succinct and wise input to the Ministry when he told them, “ROCKETS GO FAST.” The idea hadn’t even occurred to them until he said it. So they worked hard, and they now had a rocket filled with a fuel called “Churfleflox,” a Gufbal drink that could also double as paint-stripper. Since it was highly flammable and prone to explosion, this had to have been the perfect fuel. There wasn’t any need to test it out. In fact, no tests were made on any of the hardware because Zeeblo pointed out that, “ROCKETS CAN’T STUDY.”

There they were, the other crew in their space suits with their helmet visors down, Krik, Snood, and Zeeblo in their uniforms with shiny buttons. Everyone waved their tentacles goodbye, and Snood pressed the button that Zeeblo labeled, “BUTTON TO MAKE THINGS GO FAST.” A pleasing beeping noise sounded, the fuel was ignited, and the rocket flew into the air.

At the height of about 1 of your puny Earth miles, an explosion ripped out of the side of the rocket. Someone in the Ministry of Science and Practical Jokes checked to see if this was a planned mission science-thing or practical joke-thing, and found that it wasn’t scheduled on the list. Naturally, this meant that the crew decided to do things differently. Oh, Krik, she was always mixing things up in a daring and spectacular fashion.

Then the Ministry received a signal from the rocket. It was Zeeblo. Using his skills at communications, learning, and only his intelligence could provide, he told everyone on Whizbang, “FIRE IS HOT.”

The rocket exploded.

In his last selfless act, Snood took the blame.