TB1'S LAUNCHPAD TB2'S HANGAR TB3'S SILO TB4'S POD TB5'S COMCENTER BRAINS' LAB MANSION NTBS NEWSROOM CONTACT
 
 
PHEROMONES
by GILLYLEE
RATED FR
C

Alan makes an observation.


"I wonder how they do it," said Alan as he sat on the tiles near the pool and looked intently at something he saw there.

"Who do what?" asked Scott.

"There was this single ant," began Alan.

"Whose aunt?" asked Penelope who sometimes had problems with the American accent. "I'm sorry, I interrupted you."

"This single ant," repeated Alan, pointing down at the ground.

"Ants!" Penny lifted her feet up and put them on Grandma's chair. "Excuse me, Mrs. Tracy."

"He said ants, not mice, Penny," remarked Virgil sleepily. It earned him a very unladylike glare.

"This single ant," said Alan for the third time. "It found this small piece of a chip, just a crumb, really and began dragging it off. And suddenly a whole line of ants appeared and began to help. I wonder how they knew it was here and needed a hand."

"Cell phone?" suggested Gordon who clung to the rim of the pool. "It got its little cell phone out and called them?"

"Gordon!" he said.

"How else could they have known about it?" Grinning, he heaved himself from the water and knelt down next to Alan. "Look at those little so and sos struggling with it," he said.

"I hope you watch where they disappear to," said Grandma. "So we can exterminate them. I don't want ants in the house."

"Oh no, Grandma," cried Alan. "Not after all that trouble they went through. And I still want to know how they knew about it."

"Pheromones," said Brains, looking up from his chess problem. "They release, uh, pheromones."

"Pheromones?" asked Gordon.

Brains nodded.

"There are 'hey, fellas, there's a piece of a chip here!' pheromones?"

"There are, uh, pheromones, for all, uh, kinds of, uh, messages."

Scott said, "Don't you wish we could do that? We wouldn't need radios."

Virgil opened one eye. "Or Thunderbird Five."

"Hey! The same goes for Mobile Control," said Alan.

"Yeah." Scott sighed. "Imagine what it would be like if you all did what I wanted, without me telling you."

"I liked the cell phone better," said Gordon, at the same moment as Grandma called out.

"Why, Jeff, what's the matter? Why that face? Is your stomach upset again, dear?"

"No," said Jeff. "I'm trying to release 'there's work to do' pheromones but I'm not being very successful."

Everybody burst out laughing and went off to their afternoon chores.

 
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