To : Flipster From : Rancid Instigator Subj : And to break this month's fast... Steiner, sitting at the bar, felt a gentle tugging on his left pantleg. Looking down, he saw a tiny, little kitten, gray with a white belly, the claws of one paw stuck in his jeans, and gently pulling. "Awwww, hello little kitty!" he crooned, stooping down from his barstool to pick up the cat. It was so small it could stand comfortably on his outspread palm. It mewed at him in a tiny voice, and he gently tickled it under the chin. "How are you doing, little kitty?" he asked, bringing it closer to his face and nudging it with his nose. Sequoia smiled maternally. The kitten, very deliberately, stuck its tongue very slightly out between its fangs, and gave Steiner a juicy raspberry in the face. "Spltz!" it raspberried. "Ack!" Steiner acked, wiping his face with his free hand. The kitten jumped onto Steiner's shoulder and onto the bar. Sequoia chuckled. When they both looked at it again, it was licking one of its paws innocently. "Mew!" it mewed. Steiner and Sequoia looked at each other again and smiled at each other. "Spltz!" it raspberried, and then scurried off behind the bar. ----------------------- Plopper was rich. For a solid day, it panhandled businessmen and secretaries. When the hat was full, bounced its way back to a cache in the scoutship, holding the hat with two tentacles and plopping carefully with the other six. It managed three separate trips in six hours, raking in over fourty pounds of change. When it was on its way back from a fourth trip, a very tired businessman hailed the creature. "Hey!" the man yelled, "You! Yeah, the squid thing!" Plopped stopped for a moment, and looked at the guy. "How'd'ya like to make even more money?" he asked. Plopper plopped up and down again. "I've got a really good idea for you." WORSHIP ME! commanded Plopper. "No, uhh, look, come on!" cried the guy, unwillingly beginning to hop up and down. "This'll be good for both of us!" ...Uhh, WORSHIP ME? "Argh!" yelled the man. "Okay! I've give you 50% of the take and a full share in the business! WORSHIP ME!!!!! "60% and two shares! Come on, what does it take?!" Plopper bounced even faster. "AAAARGH! I'll sell you the hellish thing and take 10% to cover my costs!" TELL ME! Plopper stopped bouncing, and the man collapsed onto a nearby bench. "Whew! Okay, here's my plan." In a low, conspiratory whisper, the man began to outline a plan. As more details were made clear, Plopper began to plop faster and faster orbits around the bench. To : (darren) From : Rancid Instigator Subj : I know you'll love this. Janne emerged from the woods, delicately stepped over several unconscious reporters, and grabbed a few grams of iridium from the scout. She smiled slightly at their fallen forms, and a plan began to form in her head. She returned to the scout to fetch a long cloak, thick enough to cover her sword and armour. * * * Jimmy Rae, like every other person created, had a talent. He wasn't a very brilliant guy, no. He didn't have great manual dexterity either. He was a lousy shot with a gun, he could not elicit more than squeaky noises from a violin, and he could barely drive in a straight line. He was rejected from university, the military, the seminary, and the sperm bank. What he could do, however, was stink. Not only could he stink, but he stank very well. It was his calling in life. This is not to say that he couldn't drink, for he could, in fact, he was very good at drinking, and could drink almost as well as he could stink, which was quite an accomplishment. He was also good at making up stories, which he used primarily to brag about his sexual exploits with gorgeous woman. He'd only had sex once. He stank so bad that even prostitutes would have nothing to do with him. The only time he'd managed to engage in any sort of sexual activity was when he spent two hours taking a bath, using industrial-strength floor cleaner to scrape the grime from his body. Needless to say, he was in the middle of yet another tale with his buddies, sitting around the back table in a sleazy bar that was too grim for even Steiner, when a very gorgeous woman, wearing a black cloak, walked in through the front door. His friends nudged him alot, commenting on the stories of his prowess and demanding to see some proof. When he stood and turned around, he saw a woman that was nearly a goddess to him. She stood at 5'8", and had long, golden-blonde hair that went half-way down her back. "Uhhhhhhh," he said, approaching her nervously, "you, uhhh, come here often?" She looked entirely preoccupied, scanning the bar with her blue eyes, as if looking for something very specific. Finally, she seemed to notice him, as her gaze settled on his ankles and slowly scanned upwards. She looked like she saw some sort of interesting alien specimen. Finally, she spoke. "No, I don't," she said. Her voice had a slight accent... perhaps french. "Are you the marrying type?" His friends guffawed. "Go ahead," one bellowed, "get on yer knees an' propose!" Nervously, he forced his throat into action. "Uhhh, uhh, yes, I am ma'am." His arm seemed to twitch. A very slow and sardonic smile spread across her face, as if she just saw something utterly pathetic crawl out from under a rock and declare itself to be the equal of humanity. "Good," she replied, letting her smile turn into something very evil, "because I'm in a marrying mood..." Jimmy Rae's friends burst out into fresh laughter, and there was much thumping of mugs. Beer slopped onto the table. "Go ahead, Jimmy!" one man, wizened with age, bellowed, "marry 'er!" "W-w-w-w-w-would you marry me?" he asked, confused by the turn of events, but refusing to believe his luck. Her face was suddenly suffused with joy. "Why," she crooned, "I'd be *delighted* to!" She paused to sweep her cloak aside, revealing a very ornate scabbard. "But first," she continued, "we fight." She drew the sword with a gentle, loving flourish, revealing four feet of glittering, highly polished blade. Jimmy Rae was utterly shocked, so his instincts took over. He quickly yanked his switchblade from his belt and popped the blade, presenting it as a priest would present a cross to ward off a vampire. The knife had no effect on Janne, other than intensifying her smile. She shifted her weight around and slowly, delicately, like a dancer, took up a combat stance. Jimmy Rae was completely unnerved, so without thinking, he took a lunge at Janne's stomach. The blade pierced her cloak quite easily, but was stopped with an eerie clinking noise. She used her free hand to push the rest of the cloak aside, revealing thick, black plate armour. Jimmy began backing away, his eyes wild, jabbing at the air. With a very sensous smile, she swung her sword in a figure eight. The first pass knocked the knife from Jimmy's hand, the second quickly passed through his throat. He fell to the ground. "I'm sorry to say that we're divorced, dear," she said, smiling even more. "I can't marry you if I can kill you." "Kkkhhh," he gurgled at her, his eyes with the recognition of his immenent death. She sheathed her sword, and turning on her heel, slowly walked out of the very silent bar. Everyone's eyes were stuck on the door for minutes, while silence prevailed. "She was real purty," said one old man, finally, breaking the silence. "Ayup," said his neighbour. Everyone except Jimmy Rae raised their glasses in a silent cheer. "Guess he won't mind if I drink his beer, will he?" asked one of Jimmy's table mates. "Nah, prob'ly not," replied a second. "Kkkkhhhhh," gurgled Jimmy. To : Me. From : Rancid Instigator Subj : I'm the only one who reads this now, prob'ly. "HEY!" A voice that sounded like it belonged to a burly man yelled from behind the bar. The voice box that uttered popped up, attached to a burly body. It was the bartender again. "This yer cat?!" he demanded belligerantly, holding the kitten by the scruff of its neck. "Uhhh..." slurred Steiner, somewhat giddy from excessive sarsaparilla consumption. All the drinks had gone straight to his head. The bartender rotated his hand so that he could look into the kitten's face. The kitten looked back, with soft, liquidy eyes. With careful deliberation, the kitten stuck a tiny slip of tongue between its lips. "Spltz!" it raspberried. "Ugh!" replied the bartender, putting the kitten on the bar in front of Steiner. "Looks like you got one now." Steiner flipped some money on the bar, and the kitten jumped back onto his shoulder. Sequoia scratched the kitten behind the ear as the trio walked out. "So," she asked, "what are you going to call him?" "Wha?" asked Steiner, in an unusual burst of intelligence. "What. Are. You. Going. To. Name. Your. Cat?" asked Sequoia, taking extreme care to enunciate. "Oh. God, I dunno, you're going to make me do this?" "Yes." Steiner rolled his eyes skyward for a moment. "Fine. Fluffy." "Fluffy? You're going to call that adorable little kitten 'Fluffy'?" "Mew!" mewed Fluffy. "What's wrong with 'Fluffy'?" he asked. "Well..." she started. "Spltz!" interjected Fluffy. "Fine," she replied, slightly miffed. They headed out through the front door, which lead onto the city's main drag. Lots of bars, lots of rowdy people, lots of booze and panhandling, and the occasional rumour about some crazed woman with a sword. There was more than the casual worried look cast at Sequoia. "What do you think it means?" she asked. "Dunno, but I'd be worried if it became something about a crazy guy with a sword." "Why?" "I'm the only guy I know who carries a sword, fer chrissake." "Spltz!" Right in the ear. "Good point, Fluffy." To : Yoda From : Rancid Instigator Subj : Talkin' 'bout Bicarbonated Soda... In another universe, located, oddly enough, on the same planet, a god was accelerating time to see the results of its own planning. It wended its way to its new place of business. This was a special shrine, constructed solely in this god's honour, and it was where many people passed through daily. Inside the very impressive edifice, the humble supplicants would change into their holy vestments, where they would perform their worship directly in front of their god, and leave their offerings to specially selected attendants. The god selected the attendants itself. It took pride in its attendants, in some unknown, bizarre way. Almost everyone, however, agreed that the god had good taste. The man who funded the new church found himself to be quite wealthy, and quite surprised. It was, after all, surprisingly easy to convert a health-salon to a temple, all things considered, but he never thought, on his life, that the temple would be making so much money so quickly. Then again, he'd never met a god before. Not a real, live god. Fortunately for him, he wasn't raised with the standard judeo-christian notion that gods were old men with white beards that said thou-arts and thou-shall-nots. The man was conversant with the bible to thank his lucky stars that this particular god didn't create life in its own image, either. After all, this god had a chronic hopping problem. Fortunately, the god was mercenary enough to take advantage of it. The temple had a really distinctive sign, that read "Bob's Aerobics" in computerized letters, that scrolled off all the time, only to reprint themselves. Nobody ever caught the symbolization of the bouncing squid until they actually entered the sanctuary, or rather, the workout room, wearing their holy vestments (sweat suits), and paid homage to their god (hopped up and down while Plopper mentally bellowed "WORSHIP ME!"). -------------------------- Kramodac was approaching his destination. He could feel it in his electrified soul. There were a sizeable number of alien ships on the planet, and it was high time that they felt some TRUE power. Baring his teeth for only the slightest second, Kramodac applied a static charge to a large hunk of iron, and catapulted it at a satellite in orbit around the planet. All around this planet, all viewers of the Super Mutant Porn Channel suddenly found themselves staring at an image of a 30-year-old man, his eyes dancing crazily with blue electric fire, before, with the merest gesture of his hand, their sets exploded in showers of sparks. Interest in the SMP channel shot up as a result. Nobody could ever understand why, but, the narrator supposed (taking the time to write himself in briefly as a character), anyone who would willingly watch the SMP channel must be pretty bent to begin with. --------------------------- "Hey, baby!" Some male's voice broke her out of her reverie. She turned around to face the person, and allowed a smile to briefly cross her features. A sleazy street-punk dropped down from a garbage dumpster and blocked one way out of the alley she'd been cutting through. "Sure you shouldn't be walkin' alone at night?" he asked. Several others of similar ilk rose up from the sides of the alley in front. Without looking, she knew that four others were behind her. "Hey," one of them called out, "she's real cute! I'd like to see what's under that cloak!" She smiled even more broadly in response, to the point where light was fairly reflecting from her teeth. "Are any of you marrying types?" she asked in an inquisitive tone. Several of them started laughing in response. The first of them to have spoken, ostensibly the leader, whipped out a sizeable knife and advanced. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," she murmured, and cast aside her cloak with a brisk gesture. Her sword snaked out of its sheath, and her tormentors did a very quick 180 degree turn. Three of them didn't make it out of the alley. The others, on the other hand, began telling anyone who would listen... To : Gonna Eat You, Little Fishie! From : Flipper Subj : Cause I like eatin' fish! Flipper sat in his serene cove for a long time, pondering the events of his past, and where he should go now. He was slightly concerned about his income, or lack thereof. The theory behind opening the Oceanarium was that it would become self-sustaining. But since it was closed, he felt there couldn't be much money left. He sighed and looked out over the sea. Life was so much simpler there. He wished he could go back. * * * Carolina woke up, and looked around. Flipper was nowhere to be seen. She felt it was odd of him to get up and leave without telling her. She exited the living room, and activated the control to drain it. She then went out into the office. Not-Flipper was on the phone, speaking rapidly. "Yes, that's right. 12 beluga whales. Right, to my Oceanarium. Good. Thanks." He hung up. "Flipper?" asked Carolina. "What are you doing?" He searched his mind. The Carolina one, that's who it was. Suddenly Bud ran in. "Mr. Flipper! I saw the new dolphins! That's terrific!" Carolina turned back to Not-Flipper, hurt and confusion written all over her face. "Dolphins? Belugas? Flipper, what's going on here? What are you doing?" "Mr. Flipper's re-opening the Oceanarium!" cheered Bud. "WHAT?" demanded Carolina. Not-Flipper was confused. He wasn't expecting this reaction. It would be wise to know how to handle it, he concluded. He locked his eyes to Carolina's, and began scanning her mind. * * * Flipper sighed, and stood up. He'd wasted enough of the day here, and Carolina would be worried when she woke up. He began to walk back to his Oceanarium. He paused when he heard sounds of activity, and... dolphins? He redoubled his pace. * * * "Mr. Flipper? Ms. Carolina?" queried Bud. They hadn't moved for several seconds, and he was concerned. Suddenly Not Flipper nodded and looked away. Carolina shook her head lightly, and looked rather faint. "I must go inspect the new arrivals," announced Not-Flipper, and he left the room. Bud turned back to Carolina and watched, horrified, as she collapsed to the floor. To : All From : Flipper Subj : I want my MODEM! Carolina felt rather woozy when the mind link had broken off, and fought viciously for control. She cried to herself when the static swarmed in on her. She'd been doing so well for so long, she'd honestly felt it was gone. * * * She found herself hovering over the Oceanarium, looking down. She clearly saw Flipper inspecting various tanks, and nodding at the animals within. She suddenly found this very odd... Flipper had been quite friendly with his animals before, he'd talk to them and feed them, not simply nod at them. Had he changed that much? She looked around, and located the Naughty Nymph a mile or so from the Oceanarium. She shook her head in digust, wondering when it was going to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blue line of the ocean, fading into the horizon, and she turned her head to look. She stopped short halfway when she saw Flipper, practically running towards the Oceanarium. She glanced back at the Oceanarium itself, and saw Flipper still checking tanks. Two Flippers? An imposter? But why? And better still, how could she warn anyone? * * * Bud, unable to get any kind of response from Carolina, jumped to his feet and ran out into the Oceanarium. He quickly found Flipper returning to the Oceanarium, completly out of breath. "Mr. Flipper! Something's wrong with Ms. Carolina! You'd better come see! She's not moving!" "What?" panted Flipper. He followed Bud as best he could, and they reached the office. Carolina still lay on the floor, breathing harshly. "Carolina?" asked Flipper, getting down beside her. He looked at Bud. "What happened?" "She collapsed after you left, Mr. Flipper!" Flipper paused for a moment. Wasn't she still asleep? No matter, he decided. "Help me get her into bed," he told Bud. * * * Not Flipper came back to the office, satisified that the day's orders had been completed. Tomorrow he would get the rest, and then everything would be ready. A perfect cover. Suddenly Flipper walked around the corner into the office, and saw him standing there. Not-Flipper flinched for a moment, then assumed the same pose as Flipper. "What the...?" asked Flipper. "What the...?" mouthed Not-Flipper, in a perfect mirror imitation. Flipper reached up to scratch his head. Not-Flipper reached up to scratch his head. Flipper shook his head, wondering who left the mirror there. Not-Flipper shook his head, wondering how long until Flipper turned his head. Finally Flipper shrugged, illiciting the same response from Not-Flipper. He'd get the mirror later. "Where'd I leave that pen?" he pondered aloud, looking around. "Second drawer on the left," replied Not-Flipper. But when Flipper looked, he was gone. * * * Bud came out of the bedroom, and entered the office. Flipper was pouring over order forms signed by himself with open confusion on his face. "Bud, do you see me make these orders?" he asked. "Yes, sir!" replied Bud enthusiastically. Flipper sighed. "Will you go take care of the animals for me? I have to make some phone calls." Bud raced out of the office, and Flipper began trying to convince the suppliers that he didn't really order anything. * * * Not-Flipper pondered for a moment. Flipper was back, another form might be more advantageous... To : Meep. From : Phantom Subj : Fish heads. Somewhere underneath the huge pile of sleeping, scantily-clad female forms, a muffled sound was heard. It was a voice. A man's voice. Surprisingly, considering the situation, the voice of the man sounded... upset... Possibly with a hint of fear. What could cause a man so much fear that he could forget his surroundings.... It must be horrible....... * * * "Excuse me. Could you tell me where I could find meeks?" Pinrut turned around in surprise at the voice, nearly ripping his newly pressed apron on the corner of the metal shelf on which he had been carefully piling peas for the last half hour. Had he not been preoccupied, he would've noticed that the man who had spoke to him was of medium height and medium build, with a thick dark moustache and a heavy accent. Pee-Wee, however, was too busy looking at himself, wondering when he had subconsciously started wearing white aprons overtop of a white dress shirt, black slacks, and a polka-dotted bow tie. Seeing that his question was being ignored, the man asked again, this time in a slightly louder voice. "Excuse me. Do you know where I can find the meeks in this store?" Pinrut stopped inspecting himself and looked up at the man with a look of confusion on his face. What on earth was this fool babbling about. More importantly, where was he? Looking around, he found himself to be in what looked like to be a grocery store, and judging from the sign hanging overhead, he was in aisle 3. The vegetable aisle. Taking it all in in a glance, his gaze once again returned to the man in front of him, whose pallour was turning slightly red as he felt he was being ignored. The man angrily snapped his fingers in front of Pee-wee's face. "Meeks! Meeks!! Where can I find meeks!?!? Are you stupid? Can you hear me? I need to find meeks!!" Pee-wee snapped out of his reverie long enough to concentrate on the man's question, as he was sure the rising crescent tide rising over the man's face would soon set of a smoke detector. "Ummm... I'm sorry sir, but what's a meek?" The man's cheeks puffed out in exasparation. "What's a meek? What's a meek!?!? Isn't it your job to know what a meek is??? Don't you think you should know what it is, seeing as you're responsible to my demands because I AM THE CUSTOMER!!!!" The man accompanied his last statement by poking himself in the chest in time with the words, as if to drive them home. Pee-wee blanched slightly, but remained undeterred. "Well, to tell you the truth sir, I've never really been here before, so I don't even know what it is...." Pee-Wee flinched as the man erupted into a torrent of cursing and yelling. "What do you mean you don't know!!! IT'S YOUR JOB!!! If you don't know what a meek is, maybe you should be finding out, instead of spending all of your stupid time piling up a bunch of friggin' cans of peas on a stupid friggin' shelf!!!!" So saying, the man slammed his hand down onto the shelf, sending all the cans of peas tumbling to the ground, spilling in and around Pinrut's feet.... To : Star Trek Fans. From : Phantom Subj : ECM#1 The cans of peas rolled around Pinrut's feet like dying fish flopping on the kitchen floor. Pinrut stared down at them, eyes filling with pain, as their floundering and rolling became weaker and weaker, until eventually all of the peas.... All of his hard work... All of his children.... lay at his feet, motionless. He prodded one with his foot and it rolled forward, coming to a stop several feet away. It was dead. They were all dead. Pee-wee's head slowly raised to face the man. The man was shocked to see what looked like a bright red fire burning inside of them. As if to emphasize the point, the white lights in the store cut out, replaced by red ones bathing the store in an eerie red glow. Simultaneuosly, eerie pipe organ music began playing. The music was very slow and powerful, and it seemed to be heralding the coming of something powerful... Something like death. Pee-wee's mouth opened and words began to drone out slowly in a deep, booming voice. "You killed my peas, little man!!! You will pay for your insolence!!!" Something in the man's mind clicked. Whether it was the the eerie red, blood-like glow of the air, the ominous music, the huge figure advancing on him with his arms extended, or possibly the sign that had been hung around his neck by some unknown person force, labelling him as ECM#1, the man knew he was in trouble. The proof was in the pudding, one could say, as Pinrut's hands began pummeling the man into a substance that could very well resemble something Bill Cosby would freeze and sell on a stick..... * * * The pile of girls was blown asunder, sending female bodies squealing against the walls (and enjoying it). Pee-wee Pinrut's dream had ended,but the message that it had sent to him was still clear in his head. Pee-wee quickly left the room, went to his quarters, gathered a few things (which could be classified into either of two groups; Sharp, or Very sharp) and left the ship The dream had been a sign... A re-awakening. Pee-wee was back... And this time he wouldn't fail.... After all, he was doing it for the peas.... To : Hernia From : Rancid Instigator Subj : Do you all the types? Steiner, Sequoia, and Steiner's pilot, Fluffy, spent a few more minutes walking down the sidewalk, until, on a whim, they'd entered the roughest bar yet found on the street. The powerful stench nearly bowled Steiner over. The kitten wrinkled its nose in distaste. They staggered their way over a table and sat down. Almost immediately, they were accosted by a young man, who strode angrily up to Sequoia. "Lookit, lady," he began, "None of us here want to get married, and we don't think it's funny one bit." Sequoia looked puzzled, Steiner looked a little annoyed that someone would be so rude, and reached a hand up for his GUN. "What do you mean?" she asked. The man shot her an angry glare. Looking over his shoulder, she saw a man sprawled on the floor near a table, bleeding from the neck, being completely ignored. "Does it have to do with him?" she asked, pointing at the sprawled form. "Does it have to do with hi..." he mimicked, but was cut off by Steiner's beefy fist intersecting his face. He staggered back and examined his nose. Steiner, at this point, had unlimbered his GUN and had it trained on the unfortunate victim of the head-on collision with his hand. The victim carefully backed away, hands in sight. Sequoia, meanwhile, advanced as close to the sprawled man as she could, until her nose capitulated. The man stank so badly that her eyes were streaming. He'd been slashed through the neck, apparently, but not particularily deeply. Shock had done the guy in, not loss of blood. She put a five dollar bill in front of an old man, and looking at him, smiled disarmingly. "What happened?" she asked. The old man looked kind of mildly stunned, so she advanced closer to the man and inhaled deeply, so that her chest expanded. His jaw dropped. "Uhh, some woman..." he began, the stun factor setting in a little more deeply. She licked her lips and advanced to the point where she was virtually sitting on the man's lap. "And what did she look like?" she asked in a sultry, come-hither voice. "Uhh, kinna tall, blonde hair, black armour, really good lookin'... try'd'ta marry Jimmy Rae here then killed 'im when 'e accepted." Immediately, the sultriness dissappeared, and she rose up and away from the old man almost instantly. She stormed out of the bar. "Oh. Gotta go," muttered Steiner to nobody in particular, as he backed out of the bar, GUN still trained on the young man, who was utterly fascinated with his newly flexible nose. "Spltz!" rasperried the kitten at the guy. To : Chickens From : Rancid Instigator Subj : Count 'em before they hatch. Just 'cause. Kramodac looked carefully about the planet with his enhanced senses. He looked very closely for things that looked meaningful to him. Over there... no. UFOs. Ugh. Flying saucer folk. A real dizzy lot. There... no. Too much water. Sorta dull. There? No. Corn. Cattle. Churches. No good. Wait... there? Yes. Cookie factory. Very fine. Kramodac pushed the rusty imitation of the Naughty Nymph down through the atmosphere, heading towards one part of the city that had his senses screaming at him: double chocolate chip. --------------------- Even with his refined senses, Kramodac could never pilot a ship worth crap. A resounding shudder rocked the city as a city-block sized hunk of rusty iron slammed into the earth, knocking over several very tall buildings. Thousands of citizens streamed out of the affected area, screaming and waving their arms about like extras in a Godzilla movie. Helicopters, ambulances and firetrucks were quickly summoned to the scene. Before anything could happen, Kramodac stepped from the wreckage of his ship, negligently brushed some imaginary dust from his sports jacket, and walked off towards his destination. The scent of chocolate was pervasive, and when he carefully blasted the lock off the front door and entered the building, he knew he'd be happy. Waiting for him in the front door was a crate of Decadent Chocolate Chip. --------------------- Walking down a dismal, darkened sidestreet, Janne paused when she felt the ground shudder, and faintly smirked when she heard the rumble. Looking for a little bit of excitement, she ensured her cloak was about her and headed out. --------------------- Steiner and Sequoia, being somewhat closer to the incident, were staggered about when the really poor landing occured. "Mew!" mewed Fluffy. They trotted off towards the accident, kicking and headbutting their way through the crowd streaming in the other direction. --------------------- Plopper, being in another universe, didn't feel the accident, nor cared. It reclined in a chair, set up in a beach in its Mexican beach resort, a drink coiled in one tentacle, and soaked up a few more rays on its dark, black, oily skin. To : Saliva Cakes From : Rancid Instigator Subj : Can't you take a joke? Steiner and Sequoia, being the closest, arrived first on the scene. "God, look at the size of the thing!" breathed Sequoia. Indeed, what she was looking at was large. It was the city-block sized, rusty-iron version of the Naughty Nymph, with various beams jutting out hither and thither, and the occasional arc-welding mark as well. Crushed beneath it were six apartment buildings, burning fitfully, and casting a very dismal, orangeish light on the area. They began to wander around the perimeter of the ship, carefully picking their way through rubble. Eventually, they stumbled across a relatively unlittered area. A low, one-story building stood nearby, perfectly intact. They stood in what might have once been a parking lot, but was now filled with the smouldering, burnt-out husks of a number of cars, forming a sort of rusty wall along one side, with the rusty ship forming a wall on the other side. Pools of congealed, molten glass formed glittering puddles that reflected the light of the fires indifferently. It cast an eerie, solemn aura on the area. As they stood and marvelled at the sight of the awesome destruction, a black, shadowy form walked down the other side of the alley with a calm, cat-like grace. "Who are you?" asked Steiner, pulling his GUN free in anticipation. The form strode closer. Fluffy chose this moment to make himself scarce. "What, you don't recognize me?" asked the form. An errant beam of light briefly passed across the cloaked form's face. It was Janne. "I'll take that weapon of yours as a warm greeting," she said, and with a blindingly fast move, had drawn her sword and was bringing it down on Steiner's head. Steiner, his instincts taking over, brought the GUN up to intercept the blow. Her sword, being made of a superior grade of steel, cut a deep gouge into the GUN's barrel, rendering it unfireable. "Janne!" screamed Sequoia, knives whirling from her hands in glittering arcs of steel, "you're that crazed bitch who's been killing the men around here!" "Of course," replied Janne, casually knocking the knives aside with her sword, "who else?" Steiner had thrown his GUN to the ground and was, again, wrestling with the straps that held his flamberge strapped to his back. "You're ruining my reputation!" screamed Sequoia, as she unleashed what seemed to be a never-ending series of knives. "Oh, pish," replied Janne, a casual sneer forming on her face as she deflected yet more knives, "you can hardly expect anyone to take you and your longsword seriously..." Sequoia completely blew her cool, and threw her knives as hard as she could, with little care for precision. She was seeing blood. Janne was staggering back from the rain of knives, sparks flying from her sword each time she knocked a knife aside. A precious few knives got past Janne's defenses, but her armour was sufficient to protect her. Soon, though, Sequoia had thrown her fifty-second (and final) knife, and gazed angrily at Janne, who simply ran a hand through her hair and laughed obnoxiously. Steiner, absolutely fed up with his double-eternally cursed scabbard, took a knife and slit the thing open, then carefully grabbed the awesome length of sword before it hit the ground. "My turn," he said, wielding the seven foot long thing, albeit a bit awkwardly. Sequoia's eyes gleamed with admiration. Janne paused only to sneer at Steiner, allowing the light to gleam from her teeth. With a grunt, Steiner swung his sword, which Janne blocked with her own. The impact was so ferocious that a brilliant shower of sparks doused the area, illuminating, briefly, a number of Sequoia's knives. She quickly ran to retreive them. The impact had also knocked Janne back, which surprised her immensely. She took up her bastard sword in both fists and closed in with a will. The air seemed to draw still as Steiner and Janne fought, with Steiner trying, ferociously, to keep Janne at bay, and Janne attempting to close, due to her sword's shorter length. Sparks showered the scene, blistering Steiner's hands. Janne, on the other hand, fought on unruffled, as her thick, leather gauntlets and steel arm-plates protected her from the heat. The light increased fitfully, showing sweat coursing down Steiner's face. His sword looked badly nicked up. Janne had begun to smile even more, as she pushed Steiner back against a car, and prepared to close in. The light dimmed again, and Steiner used the opportunity to jump up onto the hood of a burned out car, thus barely managing to escape Janne's trap. The area blackened out completely for a moment, and their swords stopped clashing. Steiner's hoarse breathing could be heard, rasping over the noises of the fire. "Had enough, yet?" taunted Janne, and laughed obnoxiously. Her laugh was cut off short when Steiner's eyes adjusted enough to allow him to see his tormenter, and he fell to attacking with a new, desperate will, driving Janne back briefly. Their swords locked for a moment, making a rasping steel-on-steel noise, and then was punctuated by a single, sharp CRACK, followed by a sick thud. The light improved again, and almost as if in slow motion, Sequoia saw Janne's fist returning to her sword, and Steiner's face, streaming a bit of blood, bouncing back from the blow, followed by his body hitting the ground, his sword, now in two pieces, landing beside him. Janne stood over Steiner and prepared the killing blow, but saw something from the corner of her eye, and turned to protect herself. It was Sequoia, throwing another knife she'd found. Janne managed to protect herself with ease. Suddenly, the dank, still air stirred up into a veritable gale. Bits of paper rolled by, followed by clanking pop cans, the rustlings of tin foil, and all manner of debris. Steiner rose groggily to his feet, wielding his broken sword, and all three had to lean desperately to maintain their balance. Coming out from the low, one-storey building was a form, silhouetted in a thin aura of blue light. To : Face It From : Rancid Instigator Subj : (You're addicted to spuds) Kramodac approached the noisy, sparking trio with unearthly calm, the gusty wind having no effect on his balance, but rustling his clothes like a flag. Pausing to face them, he jammed his hands into his jacket pockets with a perfectly casual, nonchalant gesture. "Who... who are you?" panted Steiner, a bit of blood trickling from his forehead into his eyes. Kramodac turned to face the women. One of them looked at him with awe, her mouth wide open in a sort of "O" shape, the other, wielding a sword, looked at him agressively. "...Kramodac?" ventured Sequoia, completely confused. It only barely looked like Kramodac. He'd become slightly larger, more filled-out, and was wearing far better clothing. The only effect the wind had on him was to sweep his hair back theatrically. "I am Pinrut," stated Kramodac, in a low, gravelly monotone. "I will crush you. You are like flies to me." "That's what I like in a man," stated Janne, "Right to the point." She lifted her sword slightly and advanced upon Kramodac. He stood there, perfectly still, and allowed her to approach within ten feet. Then, with a casual, one-shouldered shrug at the huge, metallic bulk of his old spaceship, he gave it an electromagnetic charge. Sequoia's knives, being made of steel, were all attracted to the hull of the ship, and fifty-two resounding clangs were heard as the knives found a new home. Steiner's sword, albeit made from a lower grade of metal, was made of steel as well, and both pieces found their way to the ship too. Janne's sword, made from Damascus steel, was forcibly wrenched from her hands and stuck to the side of the ship with a loud clang. The GUN, lying on the ground, slid along until it got close to the ship, then it too, found its way to the hull. Steiner's wicked looking knife unsheathed itself and hurled itself at the hull, meeting Sequoia's longsword in flight. Sequoia's bracers, being made of brass with inlaid gold runes, were not ferromagnetic and not attracted to the hull as a result. Janne, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Her bodice was made of steel, and was attracted to the hull. Her shin-plates were made of steel, and those too were attracted to the hull. Her arm-plates were also made of steel. She was virtually lifted into the air and hurled against the side of the ship, where she was stuck in a spread-eagle position, completely unable to move. Various nomadic popcans and hubcaps were also attracted to the ship, and these too, flew at the hull and pelted Janne, who was unable to protect herself. Steiner and Sequoia looked alternately at Janne, and Kramodac-Pinrut, with a mixture of awe and confusion. Janne looked at Kramodac, completely dumbfounded. Kramodac paused to snort in contempt once, and hands in his pockets, turned and walked away. Steiner and Sequoia stood there, stunned. Fluffy, who'd been hiding on top of the ship, chose this moment to reappear, and climbing back onto Steiner's shoulder, rubbed against his chin. Far off in the distance, the dim crackle of fire could be heard. Steiner and Sequoia seemed to shake off their reverie at the same time. Sequoia attempted to liberate her knives from the hull, but had no success. The magnetic attraction was too powerful. Steiner, instead of trying to retreive any weaponry, merely examined the remnants of his sword. It resembled more of a saw-blade, the way huge nicks had been gouged into it by Janne's wicked own. His GUN had an impossibly huge gouge in the barrel and was most obviously unsafe to fire. At least his knife was intact, if only unremovable. Janne came to her wits at this point, and began to struggle against her electromagnetic bonds in vain. "Where did he GO?!" she screamed, alarm spreading in her voice. "I have to find him!" Sequoia and Steiner turned to each other and ignored Janne's rantings. "Buy me some knives, stranger?" asked Sequoia, a pert smile forming on her face. "Anything you want," replied Steiner. "You know," she stated, dragging Steiner into a pool of light, "That's an evil cut you've got on your forehead." "It'll heal," he replied, a sort of embarrassed smile forming on his face. Janne screamed even louder for attention, in vain. "I like the way you used that sword," she murmured, drawing a little closer. Steiner rolled his eyes. "MEW!" Fluffy meowed at point-blank range into Steiner's ears. Off in the distance, sirens could be heard, drawing closer. Steiner and Sequoia looked at each other, half-smiled, and walked off, arm-in-arm. Janne screamed yet louder, except this time, it attracted some attention. Fluffly took a brief moment to run up to Janne and climb up her breastplate. "Spltz!" it raspberried. Right in the face. If a cat could smile demonically, this one did. It thwacked Janne's nose several times with its paw in feline contempt, then ran off after his mobile perch. Janne stopped screaming. To : Greasy Hands From : Rancid Instigator Subj : Salty Lips About five minutes later, Janne had managed to free one of her arms from her wristguards. Grabbing a long branch that had been lodged into the rusty craft when it crushed an ornamental tree, she jammed one end between her back and the craft, took hold of the other end, and managed to pry herself loose. Using the same branch, she managed to pry off all her posessions. Once removed from contact with the ship, they seemed to be electromagneticaly repulsed. Approaching the ship in her armour was next to impossible. Retreiving her sword, she noted that her armour had picked up a permanent magnetic charge, and she was now liberally covered with hubcaps and soup cans. Almost nonchalantly, she simply pressed her sword to the back of her steel bodice, and it stayed there like a magnet on a fridge. Since the sirens were getting closer and she had no desire to get caught, she departed as hastily as she could, but found walking through the rubble to be difficult. All the structural members of the ruins seemed to attract her armour, and she had a hard time prying herself free. Climbing the fence was exceedingly difficult, because her armour wanted to cling desperately to the metallic mesh. Finally, she found a gaping hole in the fence, and made her way to liberty. She then walked across the city until she found solace. The morning found her sleeping on a park bench, her cloak wrapped about her, but a large number of cans and hubcaps clinging to her arms, legs and torso. In a dark funk, she rose up and headed into town, occasionally picking off a can and tossing it away, only to have it fly back and stick to a new part of her body. Also, much to her dismay, metallic garbage cans began to trundle along behind her, but never made contact so long as she kept up a steady jog. The day's events were beginning to take their toll. After four steady hours of outrunning garbage cans, she was desperately looking forward to a break. It was hard enough running in half-armour, let alone running with fourty extra pounds of cans and hubcaps stuck to one's body. ------------------------ Finally, it was 9am. She jogged past an open hardware store, stopped, had a collision with a garbage can, managed to kick it free, barged in through the front door and hastily shut it before the can could follow her in. She made it precisely three steps before the contents of the two nearest shelves unloaded themselves at her. Lowering her arm from her face, she looked down with purest disgust to find her body liberally studded with sixty pounds of nails, screws, and bolts, in addition to the fourty pounds of cans and hubcaps. Snarling in her annoyance, she located the service counter, and trudged her way to it. She realized her great mistake only after she stepped between the two self-supporting merchandise racks. She looked quickly to the left, and then to her right, and then realized that, underneath the white paint, were two metallic shelving units. "Oh shit," she grumbled, as she stood, resigned to her fate, as both shelving units tipped over onto her, dumping their contents and then falling atop her. This latest incident attracted the attention of one of the employees. Straining his young, male muscles to their limits, he managed to lift off one of the shelving units, to reveal a huge mass of nails, screws, cans, bolts, and hubcaps. From somewhere amidst this mess, an arm snaked out and grabbed him by the collar. He was completely surprised to find his neck jerked downwards, to stare at point-blank range into an attractive blonde woman's face. She paused to toss aside a few of the rubber mallets that had coshed her about the head, then staring into the eyes of the male she'd snagged, narrowed her eyes in a look of the sort of annoyance that dodging animate garbage cans for hours could create. "Get THIS," she said, gesturing at the mass of metal clinging to her, "OFF ME!" She lost her cool for a moment and simply screamed at him. He recoiled and wiped the spittle from his face. --------------------- By bracing the shelving units with a large, stout staff, they were able to prevent them from falling over on her as she walked through. They prevented metallic items from flying at her by clearing the entire store of them. This was something the employees were unwilling to do, even for a pretty face, until they were handed a small amount of Janne's tiny horde of iridium. They then set to work with a will. Their first task revolved around removing the hundred or so pounds of metallic rubbish she'd managed to accumulate on her person. Since they couldn't remove anything without it flying back to her armour, they decided to set up an even more powerful magnet. Since her armour would be attracted to the magnet, they'd have to tie it down. Since she had no wish to be trussed to a wall, she grudgingly conceded the need to doff her armour, and insisted on using the bathroom for this purpose. When she finally exited the room, everyone present finally got to see what she wore under the armour (the narrator included), which consisted of black leather pants, which matched black leather boots perfectly, a white, sweat-soaked t-shirt (but nobody got to get a very close look, due to her exceedingly menacing glares and VERY accurate punches), and elbow-length leather gauntlets. When they entered, they found the armour stuck to the pipes on the bathroom sink. It took two men to pry it loose. The two men wrestled the armour and its large mass of metallic hangers-on into the work room, while a third was winding kilometers of thin copper wire around a monstrously thick iron rod. While the two men tied the armour with thick nylon rope to several loops set in the wall, the third man spliced in a power cord to a 220 volt power-socket, which ran to a DC converter. When the man flicked the switch, lights all across the city noticeably dimmed. The armour hurled itself towards the magnet, but was held in place by the ropes. It looked as if it was some sort of dog, straining against its leash. Finally, they yanked some of the debris from the armour. As soon as they let it go, the debris whipped across the room and banged into the electromagnet with a retort like gunfire. Soon, a mysterious screeching noise, then a loud crunch, then scraping noises were heard from the outside, and continued throughout the proceedings. --------------------- Eventually, the armour was cleaned of its metallic lice, and the magnet was wheeled outside, locked into the back of a cube truck, and then turned off. The armour was then heated until it almost glowed, and then struck with a large hammer, and then checked with a compass to see if it was still magnetic. After six attempts (and six large dents), the armour was finally pronounced officially demagnetized, and set aside to cool. The sword, not being very magnetic, was not treated. With almost child-like delight, Janne gave them more of her iridium, donned her armour while it was still warm, and virtually skipped outside... until she saw what had caused the bizarre noises. Apparently, it had started with a small sub-compact car. It turned a corner, was dragged forcibly by the force of the magnet, flipped over onto its side, and was dragged until it was stopped by the wall of the hardware store. A large land-yacht, owned and operated by tourists, stopped to examine the proceedings, and was dragged into the wall as well. A car had gone speeding by and collided with the land-yacht. A bus had stopped to avoid the accident, and was rolled over onto its side, where it blocked the entire road. A large tractor-trailer tried to stop and was jack-knifed. Several more cars were nearby, and wound up getting heaped up onto the mess. The driver of a dumptruck had fought a running battle against the magnetic attraction, leaving huge rubber marks in the road, until the magnet was turned off. At this point, the truck shot off ahead, turning a variety store into a drive-through, literally. Laughing maniacally at her freedom, Janne climbed her way through the mess and set off in search for the man who called himself Pinrut. To : Poiuy From : Flipper Subj : Thanks, FF. Flipper hung up the phone with a dejected sigh. After being put on hold twelve times, transferred to sixteen different departments, and forced to introduce himself and explain his situation forty-seven times, he had been informed that he had bought the animals on sale, and therefore, he could not return them. Flipper shook his head. He couldn't remember ordering any more animals. Mind you, he admitted to himself that he couldn't really remember much of anything he'd done for the last 12 hours or so. But he hadn't really thought much about re-opening the Oceanarium since he'd closed it, at Carolina's request. She was right, after all. He couldn't keep the dolphins and whales, practically his brothers, cooped up in tanks. With yet another sigh, he picked up the phone and placed a call to the movers who'd helped him release the dolphins to the ocean last time. * * * All details taken care of, Flipper stood at the door of his bedroom, looking in where Carolina lay, still unconscious. He felt rather helpless merely looking at her. He didn't know why she kept doing this. Finally he went up to her, and sat down on the bed next to her. He took her flipper in his own, and held it, merely looking into her face. He remembered what had happened last time he'd tried to wake her. It had been nice, but he found himself too shy to try it again. He hummed softly, hoping she would wake up on her own. * * * [She no longer found herself hovering over the Oceanarium, but rather swimming alone in a crystal blue sea, in the calm waters of a small inlet. She realized when saw saw a boat motor on the smooth sea bed that she recognized the cove as more than deja vue. A soft tune carried itself on the wind when she surfaced to breathe, but she could not locate a source.] * * * He sat on a bench at a counter in one of hundreds of greasy truck- stops along his route. He wore a dirty white t-shirt which made no attempt to hide his well muscled body. His dark hair had slight high-lights of grey, revealing his age. His ice-blue eyes were as cold as they looked, and his granite face revealed no emotion. This was to be expected, for he was a man who lived without emotion. He consulted his notebook, which included a few newspaper advertisements, now several months old, regarding a "new" attraction, "Flipper's Oceanarium". It had taken him some time to track her down to this attraction, but when he'd put all the clues he'd found, both in/by her pool and on her trail, it clicked quite nicely. And if he played his cards right, he could come out of this with two main attractions for his show, instead of just one. He allowed himself the barest hint of a smile to form at the edges of his lips. But first, she must pay for her escape. Oh yes, she'd pay dearly. To : The Cat In The Hat From : Flipper Subj : He came back. Several hours later, he stood before the Oceanarium. He gazed at the complex, taking it in with neither awe nor distaste. He merely observed it. He approached the gate, and looked at it momentarily. He gazed at the "closed" sign and the chain locking the gate shut, then removed a pack from where he had been carrying it on his shoulder. He removed a pair of bolt cutters and cut the chain, allowing it to drop onto the ground. He replaced the cutters in the pack, and slung it back over his shoulder, casually pushing the gate open and entering the Oceanarium. * * * Carolina continued to lay, unmoving except for the occasional breath. Flipper waited anxiously by her side for a change, not knowing how long he should wait before he got worried. It wouldn't have mattered, because he was worried from the start. But he didn't know what to do about it. * * * [Carolina swam calmly through the still waters. This was her quiet place, where she came to relax, and escape when things got too harsh on the other side. She hadn't been here for a long time, not since Flipper had joined her, as a result of the poison. She shuddered slightly, and wondered what he was doing. She could hardly believe he'd gone and restocked the Oceanarium. And yet, she didn't. She had thought she'd seen two of him. She shook her head. Something was obviously wrong. Perhaps she should try to get back. The warm water soothed her body, and the gentle currents comforted her. [In a few minutes. Then she'd try.] =================================================== harmlesslion.com - Not for Commercial Use