Library: Episode 9
The Librarian strode into Pyla and Reea's apartment, carefully keeping to the wide black line painted down the center of the floor to denote which side was who's. Not deigning to so much as sniff in disgust at the squalor the two lived in, the piles of empty food containers and used make up that indicated Reea's domain and the nubs of purple crayons, miscellaneous weaponry, and old toilet paper rolls in Pyla's, she cleared her throat for attention. Seeing that her charges had not stopped what they were doing, Reea was still watching TV and painting her nails, Pyla was still cooing over her latest acquisition, a club that looked suspiciously like the one the Cyclops used in the Odyssey, she spoke anyway.
"Girls, I have an announcement to make. You will be having company soon."
"Company?" Two voices chorused.
"Who?" Asked Reea.
"What?" Asked Pyla, obviously reviewing her list of species appropriate games and experiments.
"Your cousin, Martian Bob, will be moving into the basement. He will be enrolling in the school." Pyla and Reea became very pale.
"M-Martian B-bob?"
"Yes."
"Connoisseur of all things green, that Martian Bob?"
"Correct." Pyla abandoned her list of fun things to do to visitors and moved to her list of ways of avoiding visitors.
"And he'll be staying?"
The Librarian nodded, almost too pleased with the results of her announcement. "Oh, and he'll be here in about half an hour. Please have his room in the Bates Motel ready. You know how he hates the off-whites and grays those Red Dwarf people seem to favor."
"I simply cannot understand, Miss Pyla. What do you mean, we must make the room green? What is wrong with the frilly pink flowered curtains and matching spread I have chosen for your cousin's room?" Pyla sighed for the umpteenth time and tried to explain to Kryton, one more time, why the frilly pink flowered curtains and matching spread had to go. Aside from being absolutely hideous, that is.
"My cousin is a Martian. Have you ever met a Martian before? He only likes green."
"But Mars is a red planet, Mum. Its coloration is due to high amounts of-."
"YES, Kryton. I know what its coloration is due to. It doesn't matter to Bob. He will raise hell in abundance if his room is done in the colors you have chosen."
"As you say, Mum, but I still think this is a lovely room as it is." Kryton walked/waddled off to attend to the alterations. Pyla, sighing long-sufferingly, followed him about three steps before running for the cover provided by the stairs leading back up to her own domain, hair floating along behind her.
Reea, in an attempt at escaping the horror she knew was waiting for her when Martian Bob arrived, was dancing down the aisles between bookshelves, head firmly sandwiched between a pair of state of the art and really super cool looking headphones connected to an equally state of the art and super cool looking stereo. The stereo, being dragged along behind her like a stubborn dog on a short leash and blaring music through its speakers despite the headphones, sounded as though it was inhabited by a small army going through boot camp. In actuality, it was the sounds of a CD she'd mixed herself by remixing and overlapping several different songs. It was truly amazing what happened when "Enter Sandman" and "I Want it That Way" met. The resultant cacophony, which Reea rather appropriately referred to as "her" music, had been turned up to 11 on a scale of 5, drawing the attention of the Librarian.
The Librarian frowned. Reea was not supposed to be enjoying herself. She was supposed to be reshelving books in the reference section. There'd been a run on encyclopedias during the TYs' last report, and the books all had to go back where they'd come from. Beyond merely avoiding her job, Reea just wasn't supposed to be having fun. Today was the Librarian's day to be a Terror of the Bookshelves, and this was unacceptable.
Just as the Librarian was about to either *ZOT!* Reea into non-being or order another chocolate éclair from the really cute waiter in her private restaurant, she heard the rather distinctive sound of Jeffrey's driving. She smiled evilly, secure in the belief that Jeffrey's passenger would be all the punishment Reea needed.
The little green man in the outlandish space suit sniffed disdainfully. The carpet was brown. This would not do. Taking a can of green spray paint from his back pocket, he shook it, looking around the main lobby. No, this would not do. He turned into a green blur of motion for the next few minutes, going through 4 cans of spray paint and successfully turning ever flat surface an appalling shade of forest green. He smiled, satisfied that his work was done here, even as the intercom crackled and the voice of the Librarian demanded that Pyla and Reea report, with mops, buckets, and other extraneous cleaning supplies, to the main lobby.
The graceful staircase, made of solid marble and branching off in opposite directions at the top, opened a la the Munsters, the stairs flipping up to form a doorway. Kryton beckoned the small man to follow him as he descended into the depths of the basement. The staircase snapped back into place just as the twins arrived in a swirl of newly straightened indigo hair and floaty blond. They groaned in unison. Bob had arrived.
"Mr. Kryton, this will not do." Martian Bob had not ceased his complaining since entering his room in the Bates Motel. First, the lime green bedspread had been to "midgy" for his tastes, then the forest green pillow cases hadn't been "sceppy" enough. Now the wallpaper was "garsmucked."
On his first day of classes in the Library School for TYs (and Meanies), Martian Bob turned Spike's carefully bleached hair a shade of lime green not usually found in nature. Not that any color that had ever touched Spike's hair was. In a rage, the Home Ec teacher sent the new student to see Jareth, hoping the principal would be able to do something with him. Jareth spent a very nice afternoon discussing the various attributes of matching eye shadows, mascaras, and eyeliners, especially in specially coordinated greens. He'd never thought that green would be good for him, but apparently it brought out the orange in his eyes. He owed it to Avon to try this if nothing else.
Martian Bob decided to pay his beloved cousins a visit later that day. Unfortunately, he deliberately picked a time when he knew they would not be in their apartment, simply so he could turn their offensively purple sofa green. He sighed. It was a hard job, but someone had to do it. Otherwise, the universe would continue to suffer from lack of green-ness.
A month later, Martian Bob had been expelled for putting green dye in Eric's face paint, deliberately tarnishing Xena's bustier (verdigris was such a lovely color), and changing Ramirez's lovely red clothes to a sickening shade of monkey vomit green. Of course, he still lived in the basement, and with all the free time he had now, he could turn the entire Library green. Fortunately, even the Librarian was humane enough to realize that no one, not even Pyla and Reea, deserved the fate of spending the rest of eternity scraping green paint off of bookshelves. She gave the little monster a job.
The Greenery quickly turned into the most happening nightspot the Library had ever known. One side was a pub, fully stocked with green beer and other green but perfectly edible goods, the other a hair salon specializing in dye jobs. It was all offensively green, but the music was good.