Junior Earplug Adventures: The Grand Tour (Part Eleven)


But astonishment quickly faded to banal acceptance when he realised that he had totally misidentified the earplug that stood on the opposite side of the subterranean door. It wasn’t the missing popular TV presenter, Frida Doonage, after all. There was no chance of getting the reward that had been so generously offered by Frida’s production company for her safe return. No, it was just a flat-headed technician, by the name of Wilf Nobblington.

“I know exactly what you’re looking for, young Dounpitt.” Wilf said, as…

…he pointed out another solitary door in another icy wall…

“I am?” Trubbil enquired.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Wilf enquired in turn. He then explained: “At Radio Communication school.” He hinted with a smile of reminiscence. “I was your form teacher in Class 2b.”

“Mister Nobblington?” Trubbil cried out as he decided that he was astonished after all, but for a completely different reason. “I heard you’d drowned when the planetary ice crust thawed. It’s great to see you alive and kicking. But enough of that: why do I want me to use that door over there?”

“Because you’re a radioplug.” Wilf replied knowingly. “And radioplugs want only one thing: they want to call people up. People who are far, far away. Am I right? And I didn’t fail to die in vain, young Dounpitt. I saved the Ice Planet’s only working Interplanetary Com-Unit!”

Five seconds later…

“A star ship, Wilf.” Trubbil said as the two radioplugs burst in through the door. “I have to contact an alien race. And I need to do it now!”

If nothing else, Wilf Nobblington knew his radio equipment. He quickly scanned the ether. Moments later his Visi-Screen detected this…

And following some judicious knob-fiddling and dial-twirling…

“Hello?” A surprised radio-tech said as he turned to face his own com-unit. “This is the Chi-Z-Sox: Radioplug Vincent Van Belch speaking. How can I help you?”

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2018

 

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