Big Sassy had a knack for breaking two things — balls (not the bouncy kind) and hearts. I’d been stationed at Lunar-Oho on mining duty when I first cast eyes upon her magnificence. Hair caked in grease, a pot-belly that bounced flamboyantly, and an unbreakable grimace as she served tankards of warm beer to space miners. I was besotted.
Trevor pissed himself laughing when I confided I’d fallen for her.
“Harry, you idiot. She’ll eat you up for breakfast and spit you out.”
“But I’m in love. My heart sings when I’m with her.”
Trevor looked at me like I wasn’t quite right in the head, and perhaps I wasn’t. These days thoughts of Big Sassy consumed me, from the cute little nickname she’d given me (Wanker), to the adorable tattoo on her knuckles that said: smash u. One day she’d even saucily had me shave her legs and armpits as it was too hard for her to reach. She was all woman and then some. That being said, there were only three other women in our small mining community — two were over the age of sixty, and the other, dubbed Meat Cleaver, was married — meaning Big Sassy was hot property.
“Can you keep a secret?” I asked Trevor.
“Sure.”
“I want to propose.”
Trevor spat out the beer he’d just guzzled. “What?!”
“Propose. Marry. There’s so many men after her, I just want her to know how serious I am. She’s prime real estate and I want her off the market.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy? Yes… crazy in love, like that old Beyonce song, and now I want to put a ring on it.”
And there was the problem: the ring.
Our isolated lunar mining town did not sell engagement rings. Food, antidepressants and beer were the chief commodities for sale, not jewellery. In order for me to secure Big Sassy, I needed a ring as a token of my love, and not just any ring. It had to be a top quality diamond for a top quality girl. I had two days leave, and I planned to head to Saturnia to get that ring. I told Trevor my plans and he shook his head. “Madness. Do you even speak Saturnian?”
“No.”
“You’ll need a translator. You gotta book in advance.”
“But I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Take Andy-401 with you—”
“—but Andy…” was useless, incompetent, inept. A moody alcoholic robot.
“—is better than nothing.”
I sighed. Perhaps Trevor was right. To secure the ring for my sweetheart, I might need Andy.
“Hey… Wanker!” Hearing her call I looked up, and there she was — my darling, giving me the finger (not her wedding one), accompanied by her charming grimace. My heart fluttered in response. If this wasn’t true love then I didn’t know what was.
***
The flight to Saturnia had been rough.
“Do you…know wat it’s l..like to be a ro..bot?” A drunk Andy had slurred the entire flight. “Peo..ple jussst think I’m a machine. I can be e..motion..al, Harry. You wanna see me cry?”
I didn’t want to see Andy cry, but he insisted, blubbering artificial saline tears down his human-like skin. He then proceeded to show me how people cry in seventy-two different planetary dialects. It all sounded pretty much the same, from wailing to blubbering.
“Y…ya know what it’s like to be treated like a secondary citizen? Like I don’t matter. Then let me tell—”
It was too much. I switched him off so I could have some peace and quiet, and make my intergalactic call to Big Sassy in peace.
“You missing me, babe?”
“Got a boil on my arse that needs popping.”
“I’m sorry I’m not there to do that for you, sweetheart.”
“Wanker.”
The call ended abruptly. Must’ve been meteorite disturbance.
Once we landed in Saturnia, I switched Andy back on.
“Alright, Andy, time to shine. I want a big diamond. Good price.”
“I’ve a hangover, Harry. I’ll need two days of recuperation to translate effectively.”
“Two days?!”
“Saturnia natives don’t speak in words, but sounds — high and low pitches, sometimes to the point of screeching. It’s hard to translate accurately if one is hungover.”
“You’ve only got to say diamond, and arrange a price. How hard can that be?”
“Well….”
“It’s for love, Andy.”
“Yes. The girl in the bar. Don’t worry, Harry. We’ll get this diamond. Love will triumph. Follow me.”
Two hours later I’d bought a small rodent creature called Diemond, lost half my savings in the purchase, and Andy had almost been arrested for public words of indecency.
“This is the worst!” I moaned.
“We do have Diemond,” countered Andy. “He’s rather adorable.” At that Diemond gave one of his ear-piercing squeaks which destroyed any notion of cuteness. “Shall we head to the bar instead? I’m rather thir—”
“No! You’re not having any more booze. All I wanted was a diamond ring. All I—”
“Harry, look!”
Andy was pointing at Diemond who appearing to be pooping.
“What?”
And then I saw it. Diemond was pooping… diamonds.
***
My intended proposal was unfortunately delayed as I was held up at Saturnian Biosecurity for attempting to smuggle an illegal creature, Diemond.
“See you on the other side,” said Andy, waving goodbye.
Days later I was back on Lunar-Oho, with my savings depleted, but a diamond ring in my pocket and a heart full of happiness. “Darling, I’m home! I—”
My words were cruelly torn from me as I saw my love in an intimate embrace with none other than… Andy.
“How… could you?!” I yelled.
“You sn…ooze you lo..se, pal,” slurred Andy.
“He’s all the man I need,” explained Big Sassy, who was already wearing a Diemond ring on her finger, and worst of all a smile. “Plus I can turn him off anytime I want.”
“How ‘bout another dwink, luv?” said Andy.
“Coming right up, Honeybun.”
Honeybun? I felt a small pile of vomit in my throat.
“Told you luuuve would triumph,” said Andy downing a beer. “Just… perhaps not yours.”
My Saturnian screech was heard for miles.
Anne Wilkins is a sleep-deprived primary school teacher in New Zealand, who writes in her spare time (which she has very little of). Her love of writing is fuelled by copious amounts of coffee, reading and hope. Her work can be found in Apex Magazine, Cosmic Horror Monthly, Elegant Literature, Sci-Fi Shorts and elsewhere. She is the winner of the June 2024 Elegant Literature Prize, the 2023 Autumn Writers Battle, and the 2023 Cambridge Autumn Festival Short Story Competition amongst others. Anne is supported in her writing efforts by her long-suffering husband, her two daughters and her two cats.
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