Divorce and Marriage in the Sci-Fi DK by Bill Kirton

Nicholas Gemini. Wikimedia Commons

The intention of this blog is to help, if only momentarily, set aside despair. Recent events in the Disunited Kingdom leave little room for hope, laughter or any of the positives that normally make life so enjoyable. The Theatre of the Absurd has taken over but, unfortunately, only its tragic aspects have prevailed. We have been comprehensively shafted by feckless, inadequate ‘leaders’ whose influence has been extended far beyond their capabilities. From the security of their moneyed interiors, their perceptions of reality were and are shaped by preconceptions of social ‘truths’ which called for the intervention of people like themselves to protect our colonial legacy and perpetuate our insularity. They wanted to ensure that scenes such as that which follows would be eliminated from our lives, along with jobs, welfare, social security and a national health service.

DENISE:         Dad, this is Grdsyyx.

DAD:               Grdsyyx? What sort of a name’s that?

DENISE:         He’s from Kryxovia.

DAD:               Where’s that?

DENISE:         Fourth quadrant of the Chronosk Y galaxy, I think.

                        Not sure really. Does it matter?

DAD:               Course it bloody matters.

GRDSYYX:     Don’t swear.

DAD:               Eh?

GRDSYYX:     It shows a lack of respect for visitors, as does your

                        obesity and the appalling state of your apartment.

DAD:               Cheeky bugger. I …

GRDSYYX:     You seem to make few concessions to normal social

                        intercourse – or even basic hygiene.

DAD:               Bugger off.

DENISE:         Dad! Grdsyyx’s father’s an archbishop.

DAD:               So?

DENISE:          And I want to marry him.

DAD:               What?

DENISE:         Yes, we’re in love.

DAD:               You can’t be.

DENISE:         Why not?

DAD:               He’s foreign.

GRDSYYX:     Love transcends that. In Kryxovia, it’s the ultimate transaction.

DAD:               Well, in the UK, it’s the kiss of death.

GRDSYYX:     Not according to Denise.

DAD:               Oh?

GRDSYYX:     She’s attracted to me.

DAD:               How d’you know that?

GRDSYYX:     She said so. Her actual words to my sister were, ‘Christ,

                        Mjjjslt. Grdsyyx’s the best screw I’ve had in a month.’

DAD:               Is this true, Denise?

DENISE:         Nearly.

DAD:               Nearly?

DENISE:         Yes. There was that stormtrooper from Gdansk Andromeda.

                        He was amazing.

DAD:               You’re just like your mother. So it’s true. Well, you can

                        forget it.This is a totally unnatural attraction.

DENISE:          No it's not.

DAD:               Course it is. 

DENISE:          Aww, Dad. Why?

DAD:               Why? He tells me I’m fat, unhygienic and I live in a pigsty.

DENISE:         Well, it’s true.

DAD;               Maybe, but I don’t want grandchildren with names like

                       Scrabble boards.

GRDSYYX:     Is that your final word?

DAD:               Absolutely.

GRDSYYX:     Then I shall go and fetch Mjjjslt from the shuttle craft.

DAD:               Why? What's she got to do with anything?

GRDSYYX:     It's a custom on my planet. When two people speak

                       of marriage and love, the very words they use automatically

                       unite their families and the logical goal of such unity is the

                       cross-cultural glory that is insemination.

DAD:               What?

DENISE:         He’s right, Dad. Mjjjslt told me. If the man doesn’t get to

                        inseminate the woman, a female member of his family has

                        to be inseminated by a male member of the woman’s family.

                        And you’re my only male relative.

DAD:               I’m not shagging some Kryxovian.

GRDSYYX:     You must. But you do have a choice.

DAD:               Eh?

GRDSYYX:     It can be whichever of my family’s females you prefer.

                       There’s Mjjjslt or my grandmother.

DAD:              I’m not shagging either of them. I’m allergic to foreigners.

GRDSYYX:    Then I have no choice. If a person stands in the way of

                       others being conjoined in marriage and rejects the insemination

                       imperative, he must not be allowed to procreate.

                       It would corrupt the species. He must be castrated

                       with a 42 millimetre pipe-cutter.

DAD:              What?

DENISE:        He means it, Dad. His brother did it to Mr Farr-Ridge in

                      Chelmsford. But it doesn’t hurt, they use an anaesthetic.

DAD:              Bloody hell.

DENISE:        Surely screwing his sister is better than that. Come over

                      here to the window. There she is look, getting out of the shuttle.

DAD:             Bloody hell. Is that Mjjjslt?

GRDSYYX:   Yes.

DAD:             OK. Get your pipe cutter. And forget the anaesthetic. I’m British.

(Some names have been changed to preserve anonymity.)