<A fusion explosive? That’s what it was? I assumed it was a small proton-shift weapon, at least. Fusion is only used in children’s toys. You know, to make the little dolls speak and so on.>

My human friends stared at me. “So, the Andalite Toys ‘R’ Us must be a wild place, huh?” Marco said.

<Do not lecture us on physics, you inferior human!>

<I am not an inferior human, I am an Andalite.>

<I haven’t exactly memorized the Encyclopedia of Galactic Life-Forms.>

”Where do you get that encyclopedia?” I asked. “Do they have it at the local library?”

”Never fails, you know. The Irony Gods. They wait for the chance to twist your life around. Mr. Cool-and-Detached ends up being the object of pity. Great. Perfect.”

<These Irony Gods are a human religion?> Naturally, Ax was totally mystified by my babbling.

”No, they’re just a Marco-religion...The Irony Gods wait around to find out whatever it is you don’t want. And that’s what they do to you.”

<And this is funny?>

”Absolutely...If it was happening to someone else it would be hysterical.”

Get the extra frosting. It’s worth it.

<We are likely to be overrun within seconds,> Ax said calmly.

<He means, hurry!> Marco cried. <Hurry or we’re toast!>

<Then...we are underwater? Protected only by badly made human plastic?>

”Yeah.”

<Why do you humans do things like this?>

”...Look! Is that the place where cinnamon buns are created? Oh, cinnamon buns. Bunz-uh.”

<Erek has been teaching me how to play Rock, Scissor, Paper. Rock smashing scissor I understand,> Ax said. <And scissor cutting paper. But not paper wrapping rock. Rocks do not breathe, correct? So how would this hurt them?>

”Paper beating rock. It is sort of weird,” I answered.

<Weird, yes. That is why I now owe Erek one million and seven dollars,> Ax told me.

”Please make every effort not to drop me!”

I know Ax doesn’t mean to sound condescending. But sometimes he ends up sounding that way just the same. Of course, then he’ll kind of spoil the whole Mr. Spock/Commander Data thing by saying something like: “Is wood tasty? Is it good to eat?”

”Let me ask you this: How about if we just forget all about this and don’t tell Jake, and we all go to the mall and see how many cinnamon buns Ax can eat before he explodes?”

<You made a satellite dish out of a broken radio, two old soda cans and...what is this?> He held a piece of thick black wire in his beak.

<The wire that humans hang from limbless trees...>

<Ah. So that would explain the power outage in Jake’s neighborhood.>

”Oh, very interesting. Ax? What country are you from?”

”I am from the Republic of Ivory Coast.”

”Oh, man,” I moaned. “Why did I ever give him that World Almanac?”

<Great...Funny Yeerks and now a wannabe-funny Andalite.>

<You do not have to worry about the lava, Cassie,> Ax comforted me...<If you fell, I believe you would be incinerated before you hit the actual magma,> he continued.

Sometimes I think hanging around Marco so much has given Ax a totally twisted sense of humor. Very un-Andalite.

<You’re telling me the Most Secret Place on Earth, the fable Zone Ninety-one, the Holy Grail of conspiracy nuts is holding the secret of an Andalite toilet?>

<Eenie, meenie, minie, moe?>

<Heads or tails?> I suggested.

<One potato, two potato?> Cassie said.

<What do these things mean?> Ax asked.

<These are highly advanced human methods for making choices.>

<I found the “on” switch,> Ax said.

”Great. Now find the get-us-the-heck-outta-here switch!”

<It will certainly require good acting skills to imbue the fundamentally humble and dispassionate Andalite character with a taint of arrogance,> he said.

”Yeah, humble is the very first word that comes to mind when I think, ‘Andalite,’ “ Rachel said with a drawl.

<Marco? Something has happened to your hair. I believe it has become shorter. Are you suffering from some sort of illness?>

”That does it!” I yelled, as the others all broke up giggling. “It’ll grow out, all right? It’ll grow out. Besides, it’s easier to take care of. Man! I make one little change!”

”The men who are young and restless do not wear shirts. I am young. And I am occasionally restless.”

”Ax?”

”Yes, Marco?”

”Put on a shirt.”

Ax worked at the computer for a few minutes, muttering about primitive human technology. Muttering in a dispassionately humble way, of course.

”You could have been describing a human,” Rachel said brightly. “Now, add in ‘arrogant’ and ‘humorless,’ and then you have an Andalite.”

<I didn’t fall asleep,> Ax said, sounding injured. <I merely let my mind wander, and became very calm and restful and not completely alert.>

<Did you snore when you got all calm and restful and not completely alert?>

<I wish to defect. I am interested in joining the Yeerks. I would like to become a Controller. Do you have any information on membership? Is there a fee?>

”No, absolutely not. We want to do this for Ax. He needs to be exposed to culture. Me, I don’t care.”

”And you figure the human culture Ax needs to be exposed to is Bruce Willis playing a harmonica?”

<Yes, but you are not just primitive humans,> Ax said. <You are primitive humans with Andalite morphing technology.>

<Oh, Tobias! This cloud candy is superb. It is otherworldly. The way it melts on the tongue. It has mass, yet it is weightless...>

<The shorter shows that are displayed between longer shows. These Messages. They are often my favorites. “Zestfully clean! Zestfully clean! You’re not fully clean until you’re Zestfully clean. So much information condensed into so brief a format. So much emotional intensity.>

Ax nodded. “I would like to shuffle my artificial hooves to the music with you. but you cannot have my body. My bod. Dee. My bo. Dee.”

”Is that a lot of dollars?” Ax asked.

”You could buy all the Tabasco sauce in the world with it, Ax. All the Tabasco sauce in the entire world, and still have enough left over to buy your own small country.”

Marco and Rachel were just chilling.

That’s what humans call it. I believe it refers to the fact that when humans sit very still and do nothing, their body temperature drops. Thus, “chilling.”

<Probability is not certainty.>

<Ah, yes. Physical fitness...But surely a special array of artificial skins are necessary. From “These Messages” on television, I have learned that fitness requires particular shoes and particular clothing. It is not possible to become physically fit dressed as you are, Marco.>

<Maybe I was wrong. Maybe different races can be stronger together. Go with your humans and prove me wrong.>

One mouthful? One bun?

One tray?

It was certainly not my fault if there was any confusion.

<...All I can suggest is that maybe it was a simple incident of random chance.>

”Is that Andalite-ese for a freak accident?”

<Hey, that’s a much better explanation than Jake could have come up with...”We are from the future.” Thank goodness we have a brilliant alien Space-boy here who can explain things.>

<It’s called kissing, Ax-man. Just like yesterday. And the day before. Kissing. Everyone does it. Of course, you need lips.>

<I know what it is called. And the role of lips is self-evident. I simply do not know why it is performed.>

<Ah. Well....It’s definitely got a purpose.>

Ax reached down, scooped me up in his many-fingered hands, and leaped backward over the pool. <Whoa! I didn’t know you could do that!> I said.

<I didn’t either,> Ax said.

<This is so irrational and strange that I assume it must involve humans.>

<Hey, Ax-man, what’s up?>

<Up is the opposite of down. Although, of course, those terms are meaningless outside the context of a distinct, localized gravity field.>

Ax got the best of Marco in the end. <Actually the gap would have to be even wider, since there really isn’t all that much of a difference between human technology and chimpanzee technology.>

<That smell/taste is most likely coolant.>

<Ah.>

<Or possibly the waste from the onboard sanitary facilities.>

<I vote for coolant.>

”I am from Canada. I am Canadese.”

”Well, I think old Ax is handling that pretty well,” Marco said brightly. “You’d never guess he was an alien. An idiot, maybe. Alien, no.”