Robert Asprin - No Phule Like an Old Phule

There was a food service line ahead of him, with absolutely wonderful aromas wafting out to the nostrils of the waiting legionnaires. Thumper stepped into line and took one of the trays-which, he was surprised to see, was not the ugly standard-issue plastic that everyone in Legion basic had used. Instead, these trays came in a variety of pastel shades with geometrical designs that might actually enhance the user's enjoyment of eating. Even more surprising, they all managed to be attractively clean, rather than unappealingly sterile. Thumper hadn't been in the Legion very long, but he already knew enough to recognize that this wasn't typical of mess halls. He stepped into line behind a tall legionnaire-almost all of them were a lot taller than he was, but he was used to that, too-and peered over the edge of the counter at the food. There was a selection of raw vegetables, the kind the humans called "salad." He took a large helping of that, and an equal amount of cooked greens-which, for the first time since he'd joined the Legion, weren't boiled beyond recognition. He wondered how Omega Company got enough fresh vegetables to supply the mess hall; he hadn't noticed a garden patch on his way into the base. But that didn't mean there wasn't one away from the route he'd traveled. It was just a real treat to see fresh veggies once again. It almost felt like home. Best of all, there was no sergeant standing there to tell him what to take, or how much, either. Omega Company apparently let its legionnaires eat whatever they wanted. That was a really triff idea, thought Thumper. He couldn't remember a time when there wasn't somebody telling him what to eat, beginning with his mother. He was ready for a change. He looked around the room for a place to sit-he'd only met a couple of members of the company so far, so he had nobody in particular to look for. Plenty of table had empty seats, so he had his choice of dinner companions. Then he caught a whiff of something he hadn't in his fondest dreams expected to find this far away from home. Carrot cake-his favorite dessert! Thumper followed the delicious aroma to its source, a serving station piled high with desserts of all kinds. He recognized some of them as distant relations of the offerings in the mess hall back in basic training-obviously far more palatable, even to his nonhuman taste buds. But it was the carrot cake that he craved, that promised his taste buds all the delights of home. He was so intrigued by the aroma that he didn't even notice when the "trouble started.

"Well, boys, it looks like we're not makin' a whole heap o' progress with this," said Rev, setting down his glass. "I reckon we ought to call a halt and go get some food in our bellies." Do-Wop knocked back his half-full glass of beer and set it down with a wistful look. "If you say so, man," he said.

"Hey, 1 was just gettin' started. But a little chow don't sound so bad, when you come right down to it." Sushi, who'd had only one drink, stood up and said, "I'd even settle for a big chow, but 1 don't think Escrima cooks that recipe. 1 suspect some of the guys would vote to put Barky in the stewpot, though."

"Now, now, son," said Rev. "The King wouldn't like to hear you talk that way about a fellow star, 'specially not a dog. You talk nice about Barky, y'hear? That lil' ol' pup's a surefire hit anytime he's on a vidscreen."

"Star or no star, he better stay away from me," said Do-Wop. "C'mon, if we're gonna stand around and jabber, I'm gettin' me another brew."

"Hey, I've been ready," said Sushi, punching Do- Wop in the shoulder. "Come on, let's go find out what Escrima's cooking." The three of them entered the dining hall together, took trays, and made their selections. Rev and Sushi went for chicken (there was a choice of Southern fried or curried) with rice, while Do- Wop loaded up his plate with butterfly pasta in a rich alfredo sauce and crisp broccoli tips.

The trio were on their way to the drink station when the trouble started.

Sushi was the first to notice anything out of the ordinary. "Who's the new guy over there?" he asked, pointing to the dessert line. The others turned their heads to see what he was talking about. There was a small figure in a regulation Legion jumpsuit, considerably less dashing than the special uniform Captain Jester had ordered for Omega Company to wear. Sushi just barely had time to notice that the new company member (he assumed that was what the newcomer had to be) had long floppy ears when a familiar sound came from behind them.

"Woof! Woof!" said Barky, the Environmental Dog, baring his fangs and charging full speed in the direction of the little legionnaire.

Chief Inspector Snieff leapt up and called out, "Barky! Sit! Bad dog! Sit!" But nobody, least of all the Environmental Dog, was paying much attention to her at this point. The three Legionnaires made an altogether praiseworthy effort to get out of the dog's way, but (inhibited by full trays of food) they were nowhere near nimble enough. As Barky's well-fed bulk crashed into his shins, Do-Wop's tray tilted, then tipped directly over, dumping a plateful of steaming hot pasta with alfredo sauce on his legs, the floor, I and onto Barky's bare, back. That set off a chorus of woeful howls-from Do- Wop and Barky both.

Barky spun around to find whoever was attacking him. But the wet floor offered no traction, and so the famous Environmental Dog slid full speed into Sushi's legs. That, inevitably, sent Sushi tumbling into Rev, and both men went down in a heap. At the same time, their trays hit the floor, scattering chicken and rice in all directions. There were gasps and shouts from those within range of the flying food, and all over the mess hall heads turned to see what the disturbance was about. They hadn't missed anything to speak of; the chain reaction was just beginning to pick up momentum.

Chocolate Harry, going back to the main serving line for seconds, turned his head to look at what was happening behind him and inevitably put his foot in exactly the wrong place-on a stray chicken leg-and went down with a basso profundo shout of "Goddamn son of a bitch!" in an avalanche of table scraps, dishes, and cutlery. One of his forks bounced twice, flipped over one and a half times, and arrived prongs first in the close vicinity of Barky's tail, sending the galaxy wide star Environmental Dog off yelping in the direction of the dessert stand, where Thumper still stood, surveying the catastrophe unfolding around him with eyes growing steadily wider. One look at Barky was enough to convince Thumper that he had come to the wrong place at the wrong time.

With the finely honed reflexes of a recent graduate of Legion basic training, Thumper dropped his own tray and took off for the nearest cover as if his life depended on it.

Unfortunately, Barky's canine instincts were aroused by the sight of something running, and he redoubled his speed in an attempt to catch the fleeing Lepoid. Meanwhile, an infuriated Chocolate Harry had begun gathering up various articles from the floor around him and throwing them (with an obligato of curses truly worthy of a veteran Legion sergeant) in the general direction of the Environmental Dog.

Unfortunately, Harry's aim was about what one would expect of a Supply sergeant who had moved the trash basket next to his desk so as to avoid bending over to pick up the paper wads that missed their target One of his hastily flung chicken bones caught Do-Wop square in the chest.

Harry couldn't have picked a worse target on purpose.

Never one to back down from a perceived challenge, DoWop scooped up a handful of pasta with alfredo sauce and fired it back at Chocolate Harry.

Do-Wop had no better aim than Harry. His improvised missile went far and wide, hitting Double-X (who had just turned to see what was happening) full. in the face. The legionnaire dropped his tray and fell backwards into the main food station, knocking it over and scattering the contents across the floor and hitting (among others) SuperGnat, who had been right behind Double-X.