Rocket, Cosmo, and Here's to Being Unique

Rocket is unique. But he's not the only one.

[Author's Note: It has come to Darkpenn's attention that some readers would like to be updated on some of the details of the story series. This little piece is meant to do this, and also throw in a few other things.]

Rocket walked into Starlin's Bar, a place that was located in the middle of Knowhere. Yes, that's right, and the joke had been made many times. Rocket sighed. He cranked a seat up to a suitable height and then climbed onto it.

"I'll have the usual," he said to the bartender.

The guy looked at him. "Which is?" he said.

"Beer, with a beer chaser," said a voice next to Rocket. Actually, it was a bit below him. He looked down: it was Cosmo the Space Dog, telepathic Governor of Knowhere.

"Oh great," said Rocket. "The pooch."

"Hey, if you want to crank one of those seats up I'd be glad to join you, and put the drinks on the Governor's expense account," said Cosmo.

Rocket considered. Then he raised the seat next to him, and Cosmo jumped up. The bartender put a beer in front of Cosmo – in a bowl.

"That's disgusting," said Rocket. "Almost as bad as watching Groot drink from a fountain. No, possibly worse."

"Hey, it's what you do when you don't have opposable thumbs," said Cosmo.

So they drank their beers. Cosmo said: "What brings you to my little part of the galaxy?"

"I thought you could read my mind and find out," said Rocket.

"I have no desire to go into your head unless I absolutely have to," said Cosmo. "Who knows what might be in there. I made the mistake of looking into your friend Gamora and – whoa – that is one confused gal."

"Huh," said Rocket. "That wouldn't have anything to do with Quill, would it?"

"It has everything to do with Quill."

"Yeah, I thought so. Couple of weeks ago, he gave her something – a book about the history of her people, the Zen Whoberi. She's the last of them, and apparently Quill had to do some favours for The Broker to get it. It's the last copy in existence. She flipped out."

"What, she got angry?"

"No, she started to cry. Huh! Greenie, stone-cold killer, heart of marble and ass to match, and she goes all weepy! And then she goes to her room and doesn't come out for a couple of days. When she does, she's all, like, different."

"Oh," said Cosmo. "That sort of flipping out. That's the worst sort."

"And – get this – she ate one of Drax's donuts! The whole thing! I mean, this was his sixteenth attempt, and he's getting better at them, but ... she ate it! And only complained a bit! And she doesn't even call me 'rodent' anymore!"

"And how is Quill dealing with this?"

"He's completely normal. You know, completely normal. Like he's trying really hard to be normal. And as for greenie, every now and then she disappears. Takes a runabout and goes off and comes back the next day, looking all pleased with herself. I tell you, man, it's ... really weird."

Cosmo was quiet for a while. Then he said: "What was that part about the donuts?"

"Oh, that. Drax has picked up a donut obsession. He's trying to make them, he's got pots and pans and even a hat. I don't know where he got that particular species of craziness."

"Probably when he and Gamora were on Terra a while back."

"Drax and Gamora went to Terra? Why would they do that?"

"To get a tape player. After Gamora broke the one on Ship. By overly energetic dancing, I understand."

Rocket stared at the dog. "Get away," he said.

Cosmo gave a shrug, or at least a canine version of one.

"Huh," said Rocket.

"And how is your large friend Groot?" said Cosmo.

"Oh, he's got female problems of his own, difficult as it might be to believe," said Rocket. "You know Nova Prime's assistant? Fills out that stupid uniform alright, always carries some sort of pad? I don't think she has a name."

"Hoover," said Cosmo.

"Really? Geez, what a dumb name. Anyway, last time we dropped in on Nova Prime, and the assistant comes into the office, nattering about something, and then she sees Groot. And she stops and says: 'Whoa. Momma.' Then she does that thing that women do where they curl a bit of their hair around their finger."

"And what did Groot say?"

" 'I am Groot'. Really, that's what he said. I am Groot."

"Makes sense, I suppose," said Cosmo. "Has he said anything else?"

"He doesn't want to talk about it, and I sure don't want to listen."

"Hmm," said Cosmo. "While it's good of you to bring me up to date, Rocket, I'm not sure why you're here, drinking beer without your friends and talking to a dog."

Rocket sighed again. "It's just that sometimes ... I feel so alone," he said. "This is about the first time in my life I've had friends, aside from Groot, and that's good. But it just underlines the deal that the only one like me is me. Unique. No-one else really knows what that is like."

"Uh, as it happens ... " said Cosmo.

Rocket stared at him. "Oh, yeah, right, I guess you do," he said.

The bartender re-filled Rocket's glass and Cosmo's bowl.

"You know," said Cosmo, "it's good to hear that someone else gets the blues about it sometimes. I thought it was just me."

Rocket lifted his glass in a toast. "So here's to being unique," he said. They drank.

Cosmo jumped off his stool, and Rocket climbed down. "Well, I've got to get back to work," said Cosmo. "But, er, Rocket, next time you're in the neighbourhood, perhaps you'd give me a call. We could hang out. Drink some beers, see if we can pick up some girls. How hard can it be, for a racoon and a dog?"

Rocket nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I think maybe I will."

Cosmo offered his paw. Rocket shook it. Then Cosmo trotted off.

"Huh," said Rocket. "How about that."

END