The Mysterious Dr. Green and the Aliens
an excerpt

It was carnival day at Hunk's Hog Heaven. Hunk Sunday, proprietor of the Harley Davidson dealership, had pulled out all the stops.

There were pony rides for the children, outdoor Texas-style barbecue--complete with an entire steer on a spit slowly turning over a fire. Clowns cavorted to and fro. But the big attraction was an official beauty contest, Bike Mistress. The contest was sponsored by Harley Davidson. As if that weren't enough, a motorcycle show and rally were scheduled for the next day.
Hunk was schmoozing the crowd, shaking hands, slapping backs when he saw Brain Murphy approach from the corner of his eye. Hunk knew how much his old friend hated these crowded affairs. A sinking feeling started in the pit of his stomach.
"Hunk how wonderful to see you, again!" Dr. Brain Murphy extended his hand, smiling broadly.
They shook hands, but Hunk couldn't shake the feeling at the pit of his stomach. And it was getting worse by the minute.
"How's it goin', Doc?"
Brain had to squint into the August sun to look up at the big man. "Capital, my boy! Couldn't be better. I see you have quite a crowd."
Hunk smiled weakly. "Yeah, some people did eventually show up."
"People! You have a veritable three-ring circus here, for my money."
Hunk merely nodded. "Yeah. At noon, they'll be the Miss Bike Mistress contest coming up. You'll probably like that."
Brain noticed the slump of Hunk's shoulders and the sagging visage. This didn't seem like the old Hunk at all.
"What's the matter, my boy. You look like you've just eaten some bad oysters."
Hunk gently ushered Brain through the noisy crowd. A clown stepped on Hunk's foot by accident. Hunk didn't even notice. They stepped through the air conditioned bike showroom to Hunk's office.
"Drink?" Hunk asked.
"If you have any Bushmills. And a glass with ice, if you please."
Hunk smiled. "You still drinkin' that stuff?"
"I've never stopped! It would be tantamount to sacrilige for me to give up that marvelous amber nector from the Emerald Isle."
Hunk handed him the drink. "Yup, that's what I expected." Hunk poured himself a liter mug of Foster's beer.
"Here's to whatever trouble you're bringing my way", Hunk said.
Brain sipped the whisky. "What do you mean? Can't I just stop by to see how an old friend is doing?"
Hunk turned to survey the immense office with its leather sofas, entertainment center, polar bear rug, and a shrine to Elvis in the far corner. He motioned Brain to one of the white pigskin sofas.
"Yeah, ain't nothing wrong with that. But it seems like nearly every time I see you, some weird shit comes down."
"Weird shit? I don't know what you mean."
"How's about last year when we spent 2 weeks chasing a guy called the Faxer halfway around the world?"
"That was a case of self-defense, my boy. Both of us were thrust into that. But it did turn out all right in the end."
Hunk smirked. "Depends on what you mean by all right."
"We got out of with our skins intact, by Lucifer! That must count for something."
Hunk stretched and took a long drink from the liter mug. "Barely, got out alive a coupla times. Besides we got ourselves recruited to save the world, or something like that."
Brain sipped his whiskey and frowned. "Not anything like that, my burly friend. We were simply asked to help out in a worthy cause."
"Right. By two aliens that look like the Blues Brothers! If wasn't living it, I'd never believe such a thing."
"At any rate, we didn't have much choice. I would have liked nothing better than to regain my lucrative Boston practice with a clear conscience and forget all about that nonsense."
"We coulda. But the baddies would've found us sooner or later," Hunk said.
"Balderdash! I know that's what those two said, but it's been over a year and we haven't seen anyone--goodie or baddie. I have the sneaking suspicion our Blues Brothers friends were not completely honest with us."
Hunk drained the last of his beer. "Could be. So you didn't come here to bring me on some kind of mission?"
"Absolutely not! I saw the ads about your big plebian shindig, so I decided to go slumming, heh heh." Brain twirled an end of his handlebar mustache.
"Drink up, it's almost time for the Miss Bike Mistress contest. I know you wouldn't want to miss that. Besides, I'm master of ceremonies. I'll get you a seat on the podium if you want."
"No. Front row center will be quite adequate, thank you."
"It's not a wet t-shirt contest, is it? I've heard all about you bikers."
Hunk looked horrified. "No way! There are kids here. It's a family day. Tomorrow's the wet t-shirt and hot dog eating contest. Women only can compete, heh heh."
"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Brain said.
Leaving the office, they waded through the noisy, cavorting crowd once again. Although the bathing beauties had started mounting the judging platform, most of the crowd was gathered at the immense parking lot.
"What's going on over there?" Hunk said. "The babes are getting ready. What the heck kind of crowd is this?"
"We'd best get over to where they're milling around and see," Brain said.
Hunk cleaved through the crowd like a cruise ship on the high seas. At six feet five and over 250 pounds of hard muscle, not many people wanted to stand in Hunk's way when he was determined to get somewhere fast. The diminutive Brain followed close behind in his wake.
As they approached, Hunk moaned: "Not those guys again!"
Hunk stopped short and Brain pulled up beside him. Not twenty feet in front of them were what seemed to be the Blues Brothers, Jake and Elwood gathering a crowd. Jake raised a megaphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen of ages! Step right up! That's right, get in close! My brother Elwood here, is about to demonstrate the full potential of this magnificent machine."
Elwood sat aside a huge bike, grinning and smoking a cigarette. There was so much chrome on the bike, the sun reflected off it like a mirror. Brain had to shield his eyes to see.
Presently, Elwood started the machine. The air thrummed from the power of the engine. He gunned the engine mightily. The sound reverberated off the crowd like a machine gun.
With a shriek of tires and burnt rubber, Elwood took off for the far end of the lot.
"Look at that acceleration, folks! Truly a powerful beast. Watch closely as my brother performs his daring tricks astride that fantastic machine!"
With that, Elwood came screaming past the crowd--with the front wheel nearly straight in the air. The crowd gaped as he returned balanced on the front wheel. He tore past on the final run--standing next to the infernal machine, positioned like a water skier! He careened back toward the crowd, stopping inches from it.
Grinning, he parked the vehicle and stamped his smoking feet. He came up to Jake and took the microphone, amid applause and cheers. He raised his hands for silence.
"And that ain't the half of what she can do, folks! You can always ride her regular, too. A super bike now matter how you user."
"And at a super price!" Jake broke in. "For today only, Mr. Hunk Sunday is prepared to make your dreams come true with this or any machine on the lot. Just go see him. He's ready to deal, if you're ready to buy!"
Just then, Elwood caught sight of Hunk in the crowd. "And there's the man himself, right over there! He's really head and shoulders above the crowd."
"Just like the deals he makes!" Jake interjected.
Jake and Elwood both waved to Hunk. "How's it going Mr. Sunday!" They chimed in unison.
"Thanks for attention, folks. Don't forget to see Mr. Sunday right after the Miss Bike Mistress contest, which is due to start--right now! They'll be free food and refreshments right after the crowning of the new Miss Bike Mistress."
Jake shouted, "Let's give a big round of applause to Mr. Sunday for this wonderful party he put on for us."
The crowd clapped and cheered, then quickly melted away toward the posing dais. All except Hunk and Brain.
"Like I said before, nice to see you Mr. Sunday. And you, doctor Murphy," Jake said.
"Can't say I'm overjoyed to see you two," Hunk said. There was a definite slump to his shoulders.
Elwood lowered his sunglasses a bit. "Now that ain't such a nice thing to say to a friend. Not only that, but we prolly just boosted your sales."
"And you don't even have to pay us a commission," Jake said.
"Gee, thanks guys. Now how about giving us our lives back. You see I have a business to run here."
"And a very good business it is, indeed," Brain said. "Now I suppose this isn't a social call on your part, I imagine."
Jake grinned. "You imagine right, Doc. It's nice to see you and all, but we have some business of our own to transact. If you get my meaning."
"Well, you'll have to do your transacting without me," Hunk said. "I've got a beauty contest to run, here."
Ellwood spread his arms wide. "Not to worry! We'll be like, hanging around. In no hurry. Be nice to watch the babes, too."
Hunk guffawed. "That's rich! What do you guys care about babes? Your robots, for cripesakes!"
Jake cleared his throat. "I believe the correct term is 'android'."
"Yeah. And that don't mean we're made of metal and stuff, either. We're organic. Just like you," Elwood said.
"And fully functional, I suppose?" Brain said.
"Like we can do all the physical human functions, heh heh," Elwood said.
"You're kidding! You keep your alien hands off my girls, you two!" Hunk said.
"Keep your pantyhose on!" Jake said. "We ain't here to get cozy with the natives. Not many broads would turn down getting it on with one of the Blues Brothers, though."
"Or both!" Ellwood chimed in. "Hey, don't give that look. Like I said, we ain't here to fraternize. We have some serious business with both of you."
The sound of the crowd clapping and stamping their feet in unison brought Hunk around. "Gotta go, guys. Enjoy the show. Remember, hands off the girls!"
After the show, the foursome gathered around Hunk's immense wet bar.
"Nice joint ya have here," Ellwood said.
He inspected the velvet Elvis paintings on the walls, the Steinway grand piano and finally the Elvis Shrine in the far corner.
"You must really like Elvis, eh?" Ellwood said.
He inspected the velvet Elvis paintings on the walls, the Steinway grand piano and finally the Elvis Shrine in the far corner.
"You must really like Elvis, eh?" Ellwood said.
"The only music I listen to--that and when the Doc plays," Hunk said.
"You a musician as well as a psychiatrist?" Jake asked.
Brain cracked a smug smile. "I do dabble with the piano from time to time."
Hunk guffawed. "Yeah, right. Dabble ain't exactly the right word. Gentlemen, you are in the presence of the latest winner of the Extraordinarily Gifted Amateur Pianist Competition."
Ellwood whistled. "I heard a that. Ain't that a kick in the ass! Eh, Jake?"
"Let me shake your hand, man!" Jake said.
"I'm partial to jazz, myself. But I respect anyone who can play classical at that level."
Brain nearly blushed. "I appreciate your candor. And good taste. In fact, I'm due to defend my title very soon."
Ellwood put down the Elvis ashtray he'd been admiring. "I hope like it ain't real soon, Doc."
"Oh? Is there a problem with my going to Paris for a couple of days?"
Jake finished his drink. "Could be. Might interfere with what we had planned."
"Planned? I knew it. I just knew it!" Hunk lamented.
"Yeah, we have this mission, you know," Ellwood said.
"What kind of mission?" Brain inquired.
"That we can't talk about openly. At least not here," Jake said.
Hunk was indignant. "You come all the way here, on the biggest sales promotion of the year and drop this bomb on us. Then you refuse to tell us what the thing is all about. You take us for morons, or something?"
Ellwood sat beside Jake at the bar. "No way! We wouldn't have picked you guys to work with us if you was morons. Believe me."
"But the thing is, we can't be sure we won't be heard by others if we tell you the mission here," Jake said.
"What Jake here means, is that the Opposition has like, ears everywhere. We can't be sure they won't pick up on it."
"And that would be unhealthy for you guys."
Brain brooded silently for several minutes. "So you do have a job for us. I'd wondered when you'd get around to calling in the favor."
"More than a favor, Doc. We saved your necks last time," Jake said.
"Maybe in a kind of indirect way," Hunk said. "But we did all the fightin'. I kinda think we saved our own necks."
Ellwood sighed heavily. "You can think dat, but why do you think you're still alive a year later?"
Brain sipped his drink. Lost in thought. "Could you expand on that thought a bit. gentlemen?"
Ellwood spoke first. "Sure thing, Doc. What it is, that like the Bosses have been keeping track of you two all this time. They protected you from various Opposition plots from time to time."
"That's right. But now it's getting more complicated. You have to get into the action more. Only for your own protection, you understand," Jake said.
"Now I'm really confused," Hunk said.
"It's simple," Ellwood confessed. "Before this mission, you need to go into some training first."
"You mean, like boot camp or something?" Hunk offered.
"Just like that, only more complicated," Jake said.
"I dare say I'm more than ready physically, even at my age," Brain declared.
Ellwood whipped out what looked like a small hand computer. He furiously tapped the keys for a few seconds.
"Ah, here it is. Says here you are 46.54 years old, work out enough with weights to press two twenty-five and you run marathons."
"One or two a year. Nothing very strenuous," Brain explained.
"You got one up on me, Doc," Hunk confessed. "I'm not even thirty and a marathon would probably kill me, if I could run one, that is."
Brain smiled a fatherly smile. "You have other qualities. Besides being the biggest person I've ever seen, you knit a pretty good sweater.
Not to mention you could probably pick up at least two hundred twenty-five pounds with your little finger."
"Prolly right, Doc. Says here Hunk don't even work out. Guess he don't have to," Ellwood said.
Jake was getting impatient. "I know this probably feels like old home week and all, but we got things to do and places to be--"
"Ok, ok Jake! Zen. I'm getting to the finale, here."
Ellwood brought out a large envelope from beneath his sharkskin suit coat. "Here's a couple a plane tickets to the West Coast. It's better not mention any names. Opposition and oll, you know."
"But first we'll be meeting you on this coast to give the mission details. Out west is where you'll really be training," Jake said.
Hunk took the envelope and eyed the contents. "What about expenses?"
"And compensation." Brain interjected. "As you know, I have a highly profitable psychiatric practice in Boston. Even a few days away will cost me much money."
Ellwood grinned widely. "Everything's taken care of. You need money, just ask. It's unlimited for you guys."
"Now if you don't have any more questions, we'll be on our way," Jake said.
"No, you answered them all only too well," Brain said.
Hunk only nodded slowly. He looked like a dog that had just been whipped.