I guess J'onn Sinew Nu thinks that I've been doing a great job, he sent me and the Monkeyboy to do a meet and greet on the Starship Titanicus, I get to shake a few hands and/or tentacles, then I get a few days to relax on one of the galaxy's nicest luxury liners. If only the sidekick wasn't here...
"Jo Jo the Monkeyboy, he is flyin' down the Dan Ryan
Jo Jo the Monkeyboy, kids love the Monkeyboy!
Jo Jo the Monkeyboy, he's so phat in his Jordache hat
Jo Jo the Monkeyboy, he knows that he's all that!"
"This is Captain Kwirck speaking," came the Captain's voice over the loudspeaker. "We are nearing the Crab Nebula. Everyone should enjoy the view of the phenomena from the observation deck."
I was relaxing on a deck chair getting a spectacular view of the nebula. The Monkeyboy was jumping up and down on his chair singing when our waiter came up to get our drink orders.
"A banana daiquiri for me, YIPES!" Squealed Jo Jo.
I looked and there I was face to face with one of the most horrific species our galaxy has ever known.
"Don't worry, gentlemen, I am just here to serve you drinks."
"Yeah," I managed to stammer. "But aren't you one of the --"
"I am, but I'm not really much for spitting acid blood on people or hanging with the face-hugger crowd. I guess there really isn't much room for an individual in a hive society. So I hopped a couple freighters and here I am, working my way through Space Bartender School."
"Well, uh --"
"Oh, you can call me Al," the creature said.
I said OK and ordered a drink from him. Suddenly, the peace was shattered as a squad of heavily armed, camouflaged troops burst through the doors, pushing over people and kicking deck chairs.
"Colonial Marines!" Yelled one.
"Game over, man! Game over!" Yelled another.
"There he is! Waste 'im! Waste 'im, man!" Yelled a third.
Al squealed and dove for cover as the Marines opened fire on him with their smart guns and pulse rifles. Rounds ricocheted off the bulkheads and deck, curtains and tables and chairs were chewed up, windows shattered.
"Where'd he go?" Asked one.
"Oh man, he's gone! Game over! Game over, man!" Cried another.
"Check the meter!" Yelled a third.
"He's at 15 meters... 10 meters... 15 meters... 10 meters... 8 meters... 5 meters...Where is he? 10 meters... 20 meters! He's gone! Where'd he go?"
"Oh man, you can count me out!" Yelled the second one.
"Yeah I guess we can just count you out of everything, Hudson!" Yelled another.
"That's right, man!"
"He must've dropped down towards the engineering levels."
The squad of Colonial Marines raced towards the turbolifts, pushing people out of the way. One of them pressed the down button.
"Hey watch who you're shoving, jerks!"
They looked around as the arrows to the lift started moving.
"So, uh, how's the wife?" asked one.
"Eh, you know." Answered another.
A third Marine looked at his watch, another tapped his foot impatiently.
There was a ping sound and the elevator doors opened. The Marines crammed themselves into the car, one shouted "We're on an express elevator to hell - going down!" I sprinted to the turbolift myself, Jo Jo bounced along behind me. We got on the next car and rode it down to the engineering deck.
It was completely dark in engineering except for the lights on the Marines' gear bouncing all around.
""That's what we gonna do, sweethearts. We are going to go and get some!"
"What do you mean "THEY cut the power"? How could they cut the power, man? They're animals!" Yelled a Marine.
"Uh, there's just one."
Marines fired in all directions. The captain soon joined me.
"I am Captain James T. Kwirck... and I want.. these men.... off my ship!" Growled the Captain.
The Marines continued to fire wildly, ricocheting bullets hit the fusion reactor and an alarm sounded.
Oh oh!
"The reactor!" Yelled a Marine.
"That's it, man, game over!" Cried another Marine.
"Those Colonial Marine bastards killed my fusion reactor!" Screamed Captain Kwirck.
Irradiated coolant steamed from the walls and a glass barricade shut itself between us and the overloading reactor.
"You canna go in there," said a fat engineer. "Tha' radiation will kill a man."
"I... must... save... the ship." The Captain made his way to the containment wall.
We looked in the containment field and Jo Jo was already in there shutting down the drive.
"He... did... it!" Exclaimed the Captain.
Jo Jo stumbled back to the window and placed his hand on it. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, buauth" he gasped.
I held my hand against his, separated by the glass, and looked at Jo Jo. In one last breath, he pressed his mouth against the glass and blew, puffing up his cheeks in an absurd manner.
************
Later, Jo Jo's body was laying in a modified torpedo tube, his swollen face was visible through a transparent plate. That fat engineer was playing "Amazing Grace" on a set of bagpipes. Captain Kwirck was giving a eulogy.
"... of all the Monkeyboys I have encountered in my travels, he was the most... human," concluded the Captain.
The dirge on the bagpipes swelled to a crescendo, the makeshift coffin rolled forward to launch position. Then with a metallic clank everyting stopped.
The transparent plate popped open.
The Monkeyboy leapt out of the tube.
"Howya doin' buauth? Say, what'th everyone lookin' at?"
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
On the starship Titanicus
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 11:26
Labels: Monkeyboy, Private Hudson
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5 comments:
*Sniff* Poor Mo Jo.
Wait. Back to life he came.
*Sniff* Poor Jon.
Also, commend you I must on pausing to take so many well-framed pictures. Hard to do in the middle of all that action it must of been.
I guess I was too busy taking pictures...
Michele sent me.
Hi Jon. I enjoyed this ride.
Here once again from Michele's.
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