The Gorbajixi Foreign Legion were very regretful of their mistake. Had they known who they were attempting to enlist, they said, they certainly would have thought twice about the ruse. They gave us complimentary first-class tickets back to Earth, a quick and simple course of treatments that would restore Creepy’s involuntary brain functions to normal, and t-shirts that read I Joined the Gorbajixi Foreign Legion, and All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt and a Crippling Ammonia Imbalance. The shirts had too many arm-holes, but I’ve always said it’s the thought that counts.

“So, how are you feeling?” I asked, sipping on my delicious complimentary cocktail and thinking about a third bag of space crispies.

Creepy smiled over at me apologetically. “Hi,” he said, “I’m sorry if we’ve gone over all this before, but I have this problem…”

I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let Creepy explain things to Yool, the gratuitously buff Christmas tree who has been here the whole time, instead. It’s funny, the way some things stop bothering you once one simple piece of information has been disclosed.

As well as offering their heartfelt apologies, and the cool shirts, the officers in charge of the Gorbajixi Foreign Legion had agreed to discharge Creepy honourably from the Legion – that meant he had a small medal of valour in the spectro-mail, a perpetual listing in the Gorbajixi Hall of Little Squishy Heroes, and a big juicy paycheque covering a full tour of duty.

Creepy knows he got paid. But to get the money, he has to admit that he remembers.

So, essentially, we have a situation where the sidekick with the longest attention-span loses.

The End