Until the shooting star began to falter. It's perfect course diverted, arced sharply and pointed down. It coursed downward through the air at unnatural speed, sparkles trailing behind it. As it neared the ground, not only did it become obvious that it was a literal, glowing, yellow five-pointed star shape; but also a small, pink creature could be seen hanging tightly to it.
In a burst of sand and stardust, the warp star collided with the Earth and exploded into a million scintillating particles. The dust cleared, and in the middle of the shallow crater, stood a short, pink, bubble creature. The critter was less than a metre tall, with stubby little arms, red feet and a simple, little face that blinked and looked around.
"Mmm . . ." Kirby grunted to itself as it glanced at unfamiliar surroundings. This was a strange land, which Kirby knew nothing about, so he did not react when the horizon came to life with flashing lights. Nor when the lights neared, revealing black shapes which eventually focused into a pair of vehicles with black-tinted windows.
A four-wheel drive and an armoured van both stopped, a dozen metres or so away from the pink alien, and a pair of men in biohazard suits exit the van.
"A pink meteor?" one of the men asks through a helmet radio, "someone's pulling a prank on us, I reckon."
"It could have have a high copper content," says a sterner voice, "or strontium with residual flaring, potassium . . ."
"Hi!" calls out Kirby, waving his arms.
"SWEET JESUS!" someone screams.
A pair of agents in suits, with earpieces, step out of the four-wheel drive, and aim handguns at Kirby from behind the bonnet.
"The hell is this thing?" one of the biohazard suits asks. He steps forward. Suddenly, Kirby's little mouth opens unnaturally wide. A gale, with the force of a wind tunnel, lifts the man off his feet and he's sucked into Kirby's mouth. Kirby stands there with puffed out cheeks and body.
"Ah!" Kirby cries, as he is shot at. Kirby spits the biohazard man out again with such force that as the man slams into the four-wheel drive it slides backward into the agents who opened fire. The other man in a biohazard suit pulls out a cattleprod from the armoured van and before Kirby can absorb him, he jabs it at the alien.
Kirby shudders violently and then slumps over.
"Call Edwards Air Force Base," says the man, "Detachment Three . . . we've got a live one here."
Back at the base, a man who had just removed his biohazard suit, places a plastic evidence bag full of glittering gold and dirt onto the layout table. He was about to start an initial analysis when a tall, serious looking agent steps into the lab.
"Doctor, I need you to come with me."
"I'm just about to analyze this debris," he replies "I think it's from the alien ship. It's disintegrated on impact."
"The live subject takes precedence," says the agent, "label and store it, then report to the test bunker."
Although a little annoyed, the doctor agrees, and the agent heads off. As told, the doctor finds a sample container, places the bag inside, and labels it with the time, date and words U.F.O. debris then he heads out of the lab with it. He heads deep into the facility to a set of locked doors with a sign above reading "Classified Storage Hangar'. He enters a code into the keypad to the side, and enters the huge vault.
The hangar lit up as the code was entered, and revealed all the unevenly placed sets of metal shelves around large crates, machines, boxes, bags and miscellany. All of it, classified. The doctor heads to the nearest shelf and places the container upon it. An item beside it catches his eye, and he can't help but chuckle. It was an electronic Furby toy, under investigation by the N.S.A. and their affiliates.
"Have they dissected you yet?" he asks, then laughs out louder as he leaves the hangar. The door locks behind him, and he switches off the light . . . but the room doesn't stay dark. The stardust in the sample container continued to glow, and the soft rays gleamed bright. For it was made on Kirby's planet of Dreamland. And nothing could darken the glow of something powered by dreams. The light shone brightly against the fur of the little electronic toy . . .
In his holding cell, Kirby slowly pulled himself onto his feet. He was in a bunker, surrounded by thick, grey walls. with slits cut into the stone for viewing windows, and a large, steel door.
"Poyo?" says the little puffball, looking about. He didn't know where he was, but knew he needed to get out. After a moment of stumbling around, looking for an exit, he starts to run and bounce off the walls, looking for an out. He bounces off the stone walls with a dull thud each time, until he slams into the door. CLANG! it resounds through the room. Kirby slams into it three more times, each time it echoes loudly, but doesn't shift much. Kirby swallows a mouthful of air and blasts the door with an air bullet. The door crumples considerably. By kicking off it once with his little, red feet, the door falls off its hinges.
As Kirby dashes down the hall to escape, an alarm flares up and red lights start flashing. Even Kirby knew that meant trouble.
He dashes down the halls, looking for an exit, but doesn't recognize anything. It was too alien to him.
Running deep into the facility, he skids to a stop when he sees something small and furry. It was a little owl-like creature, with large ears and deep eyes. A living Furby.
Without thinking twice, Kirby opens his mouth wide and sucks it up! Then, with an odd sparkle sound, the Furby is expelled through Kirby's bubble skin. Having absorbed the Furby's abilities, Kirby has a little round beak and large, pointy ears.
"Poh-yoh . . ." says Kirby, confused.
"Oo-Nye Doo?" asks the Furby.
"Kah e-day tay moh-moh."
"Kah boo ay-ay tee-wee-lah tee-tah," explains Kirby.
"tee-wee-lah tee-tah doo?"
"Oh-kay!" says Furby. The little toy turns around and scampers with its little bird feet through the slightly ajar door to the classified hangar. Sick of speaking gibberish, Kirby spits out the Furby's power and follows his new friend into the hangar, having to open the door wider to step inside. The sound of alarm muffles behind the security door as he closes it.
The place was lit only by the remaining stardust, and as Kirby watched, the Furby runs off to the edge of the light's reach,
Furby calls into the dark hangar, "I see you!"
From the darkness, an engine revvs, and two bright, round headlights flick on. Then, with a heavy clunk, clunk, clunk the car hops forward. As it edges into the light, it was obvious the car had a wheel clamp on its front, left tire, which it managed by limping. The car was a small, cream-coloured Volkswagen beetle, with a red, white & blue stripe along its body, and a number 53 in a circle on its bonnet.
Kirby and Furby glance at one another, then back to the car. It was Herbie, the Love Bug. With a wordless sound of determination, Kirby heads over to the car, swallows a bubble of air and blasts the wheel clamp. It crumples into a clod of useless metal. Herbie lifts onto his right wheels and shakes his tire, dropping off the clamp.
Dropping back on all fours, Herbie honks his horn, grateful to be free, and opens up the driver's side door. With no time to waste, Kirby picks up the Furby, and jumps into Herbie's open door.
It was time to get out of here.
The Love Bug's tires spin wild, as he pulls a half-donut to turn around, then speeds through the hangar, with just headlights to see by. With unnatural ease, the car twists and turns and slips through the random, classified artefacts of the N.S.A. and speeds down the hangar bay. Kirby and the Furby both cry out as the hangar doors brighten up in the headlights. But Herbie just floors it, and smashes through the doors with ease. With the sky above still dark and full of stars, the three drive down the runway, then turn off onto a secure road, headed away from the facility.
"What the HELL is going on around here!" screams the director at the various N.S.A agents and staff around the briefing room. "We encountered a dangerous, alien life-form," says one of the agents, who was holding a clipboard. "It attacked us, so we quarantined it. But it broke free, stole subject OFP-857 and drove out of the facility sir."
"I know WHAT happened! I want to know WHY it happened, and how we're planning on containing the problem."
"We believe we've found a potential answer to that, sir. Both questions," suggests the doctor, stepping forward. "The alien's ship seems to give off a light form of radiation. Nothing dangerous, but it has a very specific reading. A simple search of our records shows that an identical radiation signature was given off by a meteor that landed here almost a week ago."
"A radioactive meteor? Why didn't we look into that."
"It's a very faint reading, sir. And the meteor was inactive."
"Where is this meteor?"
"Marin County, in the Southwest segment."
"Right. Well we need to intercept the alien before it gets there. Send intercept teams, and a roadblock."
"Already done sir," says one of the agents, checking his earpiece.
"Already done?" asks the Director, "then why the hell are we having this meeting?"
"To bring you up to speed, Director-Sir."
The Director just sighs, "Why do I bother . . . from now on, keep me directly up to date on everything before it happens."
"Yes, Sir. Should we intercept the meteor?"
"No. We'll retrieve it after this crisis. It isn't going anywhere. Now, all of you? Back to work!"
With a speed only a determined Love Bug can provide, Furby, Herbie & Kirby sped out of Area 51 and past Las Vegas, into California. They drove through Bakersfield around midnight & were making their way through San Fransisco. It was still so early in the morning that it was still dark out as Kirby sat in the passenger's seat, out of Herbie's way, and Furby perched on the dashboard, talking to Kirby.
"Kir-bee, From Good-Sleep Land?" asks the Furby. Kirby nods with a wordless grunt.
Kirby points at Furby, "Poyo?"
"Me From Up. A-loh may-lah. Cloud, Big Sun."
Herbie stared around the San Francisco Streets with a soft sigh of his engine, for here in California was his home. But his new friends were still a long way from theirs.
As they approached the Golden Gate Bridge on-ramp, Herbie slowed and eventually stopped. Furby turned around to look out the windscreen, and quickly saw why they'd stopped. The road ahead was blocked, by three cars and a slew of agents, with guns drawn.
"Kah-dah boh-bay!" says The Furby. Kirby frowns as he opens the door to jump out.
"Stop!" calls out Furby "Noo-noo. Me Tell."
"Poyo?" asks Kirby. The Furby just nods. So Kirby picks up the toy and hops out of the bug, closing the door behind them. All guns were trained on him. Kirby just places the Furby on the ground, and it waddles up to the road block. it was tense, as some of the agents started talking in their radios and earpieces, not sure what to do as the toy slowly waddles closer. Furby gets within earshot and talks to them.
"Me talk!" it calls out.
"Listen! Pink Monster, Good. Sad Story. Pink Monster Bye-Bye Twinkle Tree. Come Look Twinkle Tree. Doo-moh, No Bad. Me bah-boo Listen-"
Bang! The gunshot rang out louder for the silence that followed. the little owl-thing creature fell and rolled backwards against the road.
"PO-YOH!!!" screams Kirby in anger. He turns to the Love Bug and, with considerable effort, opens his mouth wide and sucks it up.
As the teams start to yell "Fire! Open Fire!" there is an odd sparkle sound. With a fwoomp! The car pops through Kirby's bubble skin, and lands heavily back on its tires. And Kirby suddenly races off, with a copied set of four little wheels. Gunfire flew like mad, but Turbo-Kirby was too fast. He scoots under the cars, knocking a pair of agents off their feet, then swoops up the hurt Furby, sitting it on top of his head, then drives pack to Herbie and hops inside. Herbie revvs his engine as Kirby gingerly slides the toy onto the driver's seat. The Love Bug floors it. The road block flies aside like saloon doors as Herbie ploughs through the cars and heads up and onto the bridge on-ramp.
The entire right lane was clear ahead, thanks to the N.S.A. roadblock. Turbo-Kirby was checking on the little toy. It wasn't looking good. The Furby was shot right through its breast, and breathing slowly, the little creature looked sad.
As they got onto the Golden Gate Bridge proper, behind them, the three, black four-wheel drives manage to orient themselves and give chase. When Kirby saw them through the rear window, he looked damn angry. Herbie held open the passenger-side door, and Turbo-Kirby hopped out and zoomed straight towards the closest car. before it could swerve, Kirby aimed for the front, right tire, and slammed into it.
Then it all happened in a single, crazy moment.
Kirby's marshmallow body jammed in the wheel well, stopping the tire. The driver lost control, the car skidded. The back end then lifted off the road and the whole thing flipped onto it's side. Kirby then jumped out, a little dirtied from the experience, and sped back up to Herbie. He bounced back inside using the still open passenger-side door; spat out the Turbo-Kirby ability and closed the door.
The other cars managed to swerve around their crashed comrade and continue on. As Kirby tended to the Furby, propping him up in the chair and pressing his beak to feed him, the other cars came up closer. they began to organize themselves to stop Herbie with a tactical ramming maneuver. Things were about to get crazy again. The Love Bug honks his horn twice to warn his passengers, then begins to turn left and right, driving all over the road in a zig-zag. After three or four turns, Herbie turns around so quick that sends the car spinning like a top. It clouts into one of the oncoming cars, smashing the bonnet and tearing the engine apart. The other car speeds past Herbie, and the wreck that remained of its companion. Herbie pulls the handbrake and stops spinning. But as they look on the remaining car turns and, with practiced ease, skids to a halt just as it is directly facing Herbie and his riding companions. it revvs its engine, and stares down Herbie, flashing its lights.
Herbie flashes his lights and revvs too. It was an old-fashioned game of 'chicken'. Each car revvs and groans its engine in competition, until suddenly the agent's black four-wheel drive floors it. Herbie follows suit, and speeds down the empty lanes of the bridge towards the other car. The distance between them was short. There wasn't much time to think. As the cars came nearly three metres from each other, one of them swerves!
Herbie pulls to the right, and smashes right through the guard rail! For a moment, Furby was weightless, and the lightweight Kirby bounces against the car's roof as they fall down.
Splash! Herbie dives into the water. The car sank like a stone. Herbie couldn't swim, and Furby was struggling to stay alive. Things were looking grim . . .
But Kirby watched in awe as they sank lower into the water. Herbie's doors barely leaked at all as they finally hit the bottom. He turns on his lights, and the scene out the windscreen could almost be a slow, thick mist. With something finally under his tires, Herbie starts to slowly drive along the murky surface, each sound like a dull echo as they drive through the sea . . .
A short while away, near Bonita Cove, Herbie drives up out of the water, along the sand, safe in the knowledge that the N.S.A. couldn't find them now. They drive up the coast, the sun on the verge of rising, and Kirby guides the Love Bug with the steering wheel towards his final destination.
They were nearly there.
It was still dark out, but a brightness lights up the windscreen as they get to the crater. With the Golden Gate Bridge looming in their vista, they approach the small, glowing crater, until finally Herbie stops about a metre from it. Kirby, cradling the broken Furby, hops out and heads over to the crater.
In the middle, stuck perfectly straight in the ground, was a little stick. Its handle was a short red and white swirl, like a candy cane, and its tip was a small, glowing star. Kirby places the Furby on the ground, picks up the star rod and looks at the little Furby. He was about to wave the wand, when the Furby speaks.
"Make Me Furby."
"Poyo . . . ?" asks Kirby. The toy blinks slowly.
"Make Me . . . Furby."
Kirby nods. He waves the wand over the Furby . . .
As a goodbye, Kirby nods towards Herbie. Then, with a wordless cry, Kirby points the star rod up at the sky. A warp star suddenly swoops down. As it nears, Kirby hops aboard, and it swoops off again, disappearing with a flash.
Herbie honks his horn twice then heads off towards the road, driving off for another adventure.
Meanwhile, all alone, the Furby sat by the edge of the crater. The little Furby was a toy again, whole and without pain. As the sun began to rise, its eyes opened wide. And it began to sing. Its gears whirring noisily as it moved, and sang the only song the little toy knew: Twinkle Twinkle.
"Lah-la lah-la lala lah,
lah-la lah-la lala lah . . ."