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Author's Website
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Category:
Humor
ISBN-10: 1453638504
Type: Fiction
Pages: 168
Copyright: June 15, 2010
ISBN-13: 9781453638507
The Twiller is a comedic novel that follows Ian, our hapless hero, as he's whisked around the Universe after his abduction from Earth. His companion, the Twiller, is about the only alien being who treats humans better than toenail lint. Ian is faced with a series of humorous and bizarre experiences on the worlds he visits, utterly failing to realize the slight similarities to places here on Earth.
Ian Harebungler, our hapless hero, just can't catch a break. First, the deli ran out of his favorite cucumber sandwiches. Then he left the gas on at home. But the lowlight was being abducted from his front yard by a particularly ill-mannered alien, one who apparently doesn't believe in anesthetic, no less. Fortunately, Ian is saved by an unlikely ally: the Twiller, whose bravery is somewhat overshadowed by its uncanny resemblance to a floating yellow marshmallow with big eyes.
The Twiller follows the adventures of Ian and his newfound companion as they are whisked around the Universe, and Ian learns how difficult it can be to find his way home to a backwater planet called "Earth." Along the way, Ian must survive the traffic of El Leigh, the enthusiastic protestors of Bez Erkeley, and rampaging politicians in the city of WMD. Even worse, he must contend with exorbitant prices in the city of York, endure the heat and crazy drivers in Fleur Ida, and struggle to escape the small planet of "Huh? Why E?" before he contracts island fever. Astute readers might pick up on subtle correlations to real places here on Earth, but my lawyers have reminded me to state that such resemblances are purely coincidental.
As it starts to dawn on Ian that the bizarre planets he visits suffer from many of the same problems, comical situations, and inane rules all too familiar to him, he stumbles upon an important secret that gives his quest to return home added urgency. Can Ian make it home? Will he arrive in time to prevent a terrible catastrophe? And can he find a flight without a Saturday night stopover? The answer lies with the Twiller…
Excerpt
Ian continued walking through the spaceport, more or less at random. As he gaped at a kiosk offering a wide variety of creative piercing services, he was startled by a loud ringing sound coming from his pocket. Belatedly, he realized his cell phone was ringing. He went to answer it, and paused, then shrugged disinterestedly. He never got signal anywhere back on Earth, so why shouldn’t he get reception half a galaxy away?
He answered the phone skeptically. “Hello?”
“Mr. Harebungler?” came a voice, rather clearly, Ian thought. “Is that you?”
Ian looked down at himself. “I believe so.”
“Good, good, Mr. Harebungler. This is Colonel Zachary Sanders of the NETSA. It has come to our attention that you have recently been abducted by aliens. As such, I have a very important mission for you.”
“Really?” asked Ian, who had never heard of the NETSA. “What is the NETSA?”
“I’m afraid that’s classified, Mr. Harebungler. But we have an important mission for you.”
Ian shrugged. “What’s the mission?”
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to tell you that, Mr. Harebungler.” The man sighed. “Perhaps you don’t realize just how important—and how classified—this mission is. You are, after all, only a civilian. It just wouldn’t do for us to go around telling civilians about super-secret, classified plans like this one, now would it?”
Ian was confused. “No, I suppose not.” There was an uncomfortable silence. “So it’s like, Top Secret, then?”
“Oh, no,” said the man, whose voice was beginning to disconcert Ian. “It’s far more classified than that. In fact, it’s so fiendishly classified, even the name describing how classified it is, is classified. Do you see?”
“Yes,” said Ian, who didn’t.
“Very good.”
“Wait a moment,” said Ian, who was beginning to piece some of the conversation together as his head cleared. “Did you say your name was Sanders?”
There was a definite pause from the other end of the line. “Yes.”
“But, Colonel Sanders?”
“That is all,” said the voice, and hung up.
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