Sunday morning. After finishing Arnold’s Shirts yesterday, I had sent him a message via the intergalacticnet and was waiting for him to pick up his finally finished piece. And there he was already, opening the door in his slow and careful, now so familiar way.
‘Hello! It’s me!’
‘Hello Arnold! How are you?’
He was meandering his way from the door, carefully avoiding to knock over any of the numerous piles of fabrics and other things, carrying his little box under one of his four arms.
‘Mr. Miller has been asking for you.’ I told him. ‘You know, the Orion Insurance guy. Wanted you to pay for his car repair. I think you better not turn up in your Smart car again.’
‘Easy-peasy!’ he answered and pulled a little device out from one of his pockets. He pressed a few bleeping buttons. ‘Done.’
‘I’ve just changed a few settings for my ship. Should look like a little pizza delivery van by now. Piaggio Ape 50.’*
‘Cool!’ One of my favorites. ‘Can I have a look?’
We went outside and there it was, parked in front of The UFO Garage. ‘Arnold’s Pizza’ it read in big friendly letters across a dark blue star-scattered sky. And, in smaller print, ‘Delivering everywhere‘.
‘Don’t you think that’s a little too obvious?’
‘That Miller guy won’t notice. He’s so stupid he can’t even tell a pulsar from a quasar.’
‘Neither can I.’
‘But you’re not stupid. – By human standards.’ he added. ‘Anyway, he won’t turn up today because he’s always spending his Sundays with his girlfriend.’
‘Have you been spying on him?’
‘I obtained some information about his personal habits. Just in case.’
Oh, Arnold! *sighs*
Back inside, I explained to him what I had done. ‘Look, I’ve finally finished the piece made from your old shirts. As the fabric I wanted to use for the back was just about as wide as the top I had to cheat a little. I simply cut a couple of squares from the remaining fabrics you brought and sewed them together. Then I used the backing fabric for the border strips instead.’
‘Looks great. Something different for a change.’
I handed him the finished piece. As usual, he stuffed it into his little box. ‘And here are the leftover shirt fabrics, too.’
‘No, I’d rather you kept them. For some later project of yours.’
‘Oh, thank you very much!’ – Not everyone’s as lucky as to own fabrics from Interstellar Bargains.
*Not an English ape, but an Italian bee