Episode 2: The Silly People of Quirx
When the door of the cozy red tomato-ship swung open, Emil and Tom found themselves looking out at a sea of bright, beaming, painted wooden faces. The whole crowd of Quirxians had gathered around the ship, and they were all talking and laughing and pointing at once.
"Look how red it is!" one of them hooted.
"It's a tomato! A flying tomato!" giggled another.
"Did somebody lose their lunch up in the sky?" a third one cackled, and the whole crowd burst into peals of wooden, clattery laughter.
Emil and Tom glanced at each other, unsure whether to be offended or to laugh along. But the Quirxians didn't seem the least bit mean — they were giggling and nudging one another, their painted grins as wide as could be, clearly just having an enormous amount of fun.
"Well," said Emil with a chuckle, "I suppose it is a rather red, rather tomato-ish ship."
The two friends climbed down onto the bouncy grass. To their relief, they found they didn't need their space suits at all — the air of Quirx was fresh and sweet and perfectly good to breathe, with a faint smell of candy and freshly-cut grass.
Looking around at the cheerful, chaotic crowd, Emil spotted one Quirxian near the front who seemed especially friendly — a fellow painted in cheerful stripes of blue and yellow and orange, with a particularly warm smile. Emil walked right up to him.
"Hello there," Emil said politely. "My name is Emil, and this is my friend Tom. We've come a very long way to visit your planet."
The striped Quirxian looked at him, beamed an enormous beam, gave a deep and dignified bow, and said:
"Good night!"
Emil blinked. So did Tom. For it was, quite plainly, the middle of a bright and shining day. The sun was high. The sky glowed pastel pink. There was not a hint of nighttime anywhere.
"Er..." said Emil. "Good... night? But it's daytime."
"Is it?" said the Quirxian, looking up at the sky with mock surprise. "Are you quite sure? I always say good night in the morning and good morning at night. That way I'm never wrong twice in a row!"
Tom scratched his head. "That... doesn't make any sense at all."
"Exactly!" the Quirxian cried, delighted, as if Tom had just paid him the finest compliment in the world.
And then he started asking them the strangest questions. He asked Emil how many corners a circle had, and whether Tom preferred his soup tall or wide, and if their tomato-ship liked to be tickled, and which was heavier — a kilogram of feathers or a kilogram of giggles. Each question was sillier than the last, and every time Emil tried to answer seriously, the Quirxian would laugh and ask something even more ridiculous.
Emil and Tom grew more and more confused. Was this fellow quite all right? Was everyone here like this?
But then, slowly, it began to dawn on them. They looked around at all the Quirxians — every one of them joking, punning, riddling, laughing, making fun of everything and nothing. And they remembered what the ancient book had said: the inhabitants of Quirx love to make jokes, all the time.
"Tom," Emil whispered, a grin spreading across his face. "I don't think anything's wrong with them. I think this is just... how they are. They make silly fun out of everything! It's their whole way of being. It's not rudeness — it's play."
Tom's worried face melted into a giggle. "Ohhh! So when he says 'good night' in the daytime—"
"—he's just being silly on purpose," Emil finished. "And he wants us to be silly right back!"
Once they understood the game, everything became much more fun. When the striped Quirxian asked Tom whether worms came in small, medium, or enormous, Tom puffed himself up and declared, "Gigantic, obviously — can't you tell?" — and the Quirxian roared with such happy laughter that he nearly toppled over backward.
"Now you've got it!" the Quirxian wheezed, wiping a wooden tear of joy from his painted eye. "Oh, I like you two. Come, come — let me show you around our city! Mind the puddles. There aren't any, but mind them anyway."
And so Emil and Tom set off into the city of colorful playing bricks, their new friend leading the way. What a place it was! Crooked brick houses leaned together like old friends sharing secrets. Brick towers stretched up toward the floating islands. Every street was a different jumble of color, and every Quirxian they passed waved or joked or did a silly little dance.
As they walked, Emil thought to ask, "I'm sorry — we never caught your name. What are you called?"
The striped Quirxian struck a grand pose. "I," he announced proudly, "am Yunnf!"
"Yunnf," repeated Tom, trying it out. "That's a wonderful name."
"It's the only name I've got, so it had better be!" Yunnf chirped.
As they wandered the brick streets, Yunnf grew more and more excited, until he was practically hopping. "You've come at the perfect time, you know," he told them. "The perfect time! Because tomorrow — oh, tomorrow! — is the biggest, most exciting event of the whole year!"
"Really?" said Emil. "What is it?"
"A RACE!" Yunnf declared, throwing his wooden arms wide. "The Great Quirx City Race! Everyone takes part! It's the talk of the whole planet!"
He scampered over to a brick wall, where a big, bright, colorful poster was pinned up, covered in playful drawings and swirly letters. He pointed at it proudly. Emil and Tom leaned in to read.
The poster announced a grand race — a dash straight through the heart of the city, from one end all the way to the other, winding through the brick streets and around the brick towers, with a grand finish line and a prize for the winner.
"It runs from that edge of the city," said Yunnf, pointing one way, "all the way to that edge over there. The first one across the finish line wins!" His painted eyes sparkled. "Say — why don't you two take part? You could even win the prize!"
Emil grinned. The idea sounded like enormous fun. "Well, what would we need for it?" he asked. "What should we bring? How do we prepare?"
Yunnf put on his most serious face, stroked his chin thoughtfully, and declared in his grandest voice:
"For this race, my friends, you will need... EVERYTHING!"
Emil and Tom waited for him to explain. But Yunnf just stood there beaming — and then they both understood, and burst out laughing. Of course. Everything meant nothing at all. It was just another one of his jokes. The race was simply a good old-fashioned run from one side of the city to the other — no special equipment, no preparation, nothing needed but two quick feet (or, in Tom's case, a very wiggly tail).
"Everything, eh?" laughed Emil. "Well, lucky for us, that's exactly how much we've got!"
He looked at Tom, and Tom looked at him, and they both nodded at once.
"All right, Yunnf," Emil announced. "Count us in! Tom and I will race too. This sounds like the most fun we've had in ages!"
At that, Yunnf let out a whoop, and all the Quirxians nearby — who had, of course, been cheekily listening in the whole time — broke into a great cheer, clapping their wooden hands and stamping their wooden feet until the whole brick city rang with the happy, clattering, joyful sound.
The Great Quirx City Race had two new racers — and tomorrow, the fun would really begin.
To be continued in Episode 3...