I walk upright. That might not seem too impressive to you, but on planet Vox old Widriff (that’s me) is the only member of the dominant species that can.
Maybe I flaunt it too much. But I think it’s pretty cool. I’ve got an amazing inner ear so I can keep my balance. Other Voxers can’t do it. They walk on all fives. It’s kind of sad.
Of course, I was at the bottom of the totem pole here. My vision is bad and I’m just not well-liked. Other Voxers can’t see at all. Except the King. He’s got a working eye and he sees perfectly. Much better than I do.
Voxers are an odd bunch. They worship the King who occasionally offers them favors but usually rules harshly. He’s tough but fair except for the fair part. I suppose the Voxers support their King out of fear or perhaps hatred of the other species. It’s hard to know, but I do not share their sentiment whatever its origins.
I hate the damn King.
You know by now that the King is missing. He’s disappeared. There’s no point in denying it. I got to him. I did it. He’s locked up in a secure location. Don’t bother looking for him. You’d never find him even if you weren’t blind.
I’m in charge now. All you poor people who can’t see or stand upright, I’m issuing all of you canes. Stop grovelling. Get off your knees. Walk upright and develop some dignity. Tap the canes and listen to the echos. Don’t walk into things.
Don’t make me embarrassed to be a member of the same species.