Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Mission Accomplished

I looked up from the terminal showing my email and my heart swelled with pride when I saw the Queen’s message play on the monitors in the landing bay. I will have to answer all of my fan mail later (if you have any for me, feel free to send it right away, though).

With the apprehension of Gervais Baltizar, my team disbanded to go to their home units with commendations for the successful mission. I rode in the Sulaco back to planet Lejeune, home of the USCM’s headquarters and the office of General Puller. After the combat ship slid into orbit, Corporal Ferro and I prepared to drop to the surface in her UD-4L Cheyenne.

The place I normally want to be on these things is in the APC in the back, but for this drop, I am sitting in the copilot’s seat above and behind her.

“You sure you want me here?” I ask. “I sure don’t want to get in your way or anything.”

Ferro turned her head to look at me. I could see the words “Fly the friendly skies” scrawled on her helmet.

“Don’t worry about it, Hudson,” she smiled. “Just stay in your seat and enjoy the ride.”

“I mean, I just don’t wanna, you know…” I gulp.

“Hang on, we’re going for a ride,” she smirked. “Stand by to initiate release sequencer. On my mark. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Mark.”

The bay doors of the Sulaco opened and the dropping claw released its cargo. With a metallic clang, the dropship fell away and towards the atmosphere.

“Wooooooooah!” I yelped. Hitting the atmosphere in these things is never, ever pleasant.

“We’re in the pipe, five by five,” Ferro beamed. The ship continued to rumble and shake as it pounded into the atmosphere.

“Wha-wha-uh-aht does that mean?” I asked as my heart bounced around in my ribcage.

“It means were in the pipe,” Ferro smirked. “And we’re five by five.”

“Iiiiiiiii-nggggggknow that,” I gritted my teeth. “Wha-uh-ah-uh-at is it?”

I think she rolled her eyes. “It means what it means,” she answered with a smile.

The dropship sliced through the sky and the bouncing ceased. Ferro delightedly made the small adjustments to aim her craft to the landing strip. As we drew towards it, she eased off the thrust and brought it to a hover, then dropped it onto its landing skids, right in the middle of the designated landing circle.

I exhaled deeply and unsnapped my restraints. Ferro looked back at me and smiled.

“Going to see the General, huh?”

“Yes I am,” I replied.

“Look sharp,” she advised. “Stay frosty.”

“You know it,” I answered.

I walked down the landing ramp and headed towards the General’s office.

Monday, February 27, 2006

An Important Address from The Queen

Greetings citizens of the galaxy, I am pleased to be speaking to you once again.

First, I wanted to give everyone an update on Our struggles against the forces of Galactor the Evil Galactic Overlord. The Joint Chiefs have just informed me that just last week, a mission against one of Galactor’s middle managers was successful. Between last week’s triumph and the recent victory on Planet Hel, much of Galactor’s financial backbone has been crippled.

While I cannot go into details on last week’s accomplishment, I can tell you about the accomplishments on Hel. Galactor’s Edifice of Evil has been annexed by several development corporations and turned into luxury condos. I know that insurgents continue to cause trouble on the planet, but rest assured the military has things well under control. To that I will only add: mission accomplished.

There is one other thing that I wanted to talk about. My advisors have advised me that I am not connecting with the common beings of the galaxy. They have further counseled Me that a personal story would allow people to feel closer to Me.

OK, so here goes, when I was young girl, my father King Galacton IX, was a busy man but he cared for His family very much. Despite the fact that he had sovereignty over the known galaxy, he still wanted to be sure that his little girl had a happy birthday.

I had made it very clear that the only thing that I wanted for My birthday was a Vandorian weissponig. Everyone knows that weissponigs are a very rare, very special animal. They have a beautiful white coat, they are smart and can learn many tricks, and their perspiration can be harvested as a fragrance or for medicinal purposes. Few people can afford to see one, let alone own one.

Again, I made it very clear that the only thing I wanted for My birthday was a weissponig. I was a young girl and I was very boisterous and impetuous and my father said several times that it was impossible to get one. I don’t want to say that I had a fit or anything, but I was very saddened and I let him know it.

He spent many days up to My birthday assuring me that I could never get one, but lo and behold, on that bright morning, when I woke up, there it was lying next to me. It was the most beautiful white little weissponig I’ve ever seen.

I named her Princess and we had lots of fun together. We spent the whole summer running through meadows, sharing picnic lunches and spending every waking minute together. Eventually, fall passed and winter came and then I got a new pair of rocket skates. Everyone knows that a weissponig can’t ice skate, so my time with her decreased.

So that is the story of My first pet. I sometimes wonder whatever happened to her, though I am quite certain that she moved on to a new and happy home.

One final word. I have put Myself on the blogosphere in order to make Myself more accessible and understood in a personal way. If you have any questions, please feel free to leave them here or at My own blog and I assure you they will be answered.

Thank you and have a pleasant day.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Friday Update From the Intergalactic Gladiator

Hello to all my Jr. Intergalactic Gladiators,

I just got word that Queen Galacta herself would like to address everyone and will most likely do so Monday morning. As I understand it, her Blogcast will be simulcasted in several different locations because of it's extreme importance.

Meanwhile, Private Hudson (or is it Corporal? And if it is, why didn't he change it in his profile?) is flying back to see his Commandant. Hudson will be standing tall before the General on Tuseday, and I am as excited about it as you are.

On top of that, my services have been utilized to fight the Sentinel/Brood conspiracy. It's a very exciting storyline that can be found at Professor Xavier, Vampirella and Gaia's blog.

Also, and most importantly, are you following Big Brother Naboo? We are repelling an attack of pirates and it was most exciting. Here is a thrilling clip from my electrifying entry:

I ran towards the cabin of the ship, one more pirate stood there, looming over me. His unpatched eye glinted much like the hook on his hand. I looked down at his legs. One was wooden, of course, the other hosted a colorful sock.

“What’s with the sock?” I pointed.

“It’s arrrrrrgyle,” he sneered.

“And how’d you get the peg leg?”

“In a fight, a fierce battle at sea, a cannonball tore of me leg,” he answered.

“And what about the hook?”

“In another fierce battle, my enemy cut off me hand in a sword fight,” he snarled.

“Oh.” I could see that happening, I guess. “What about the eyepatch?”

“One day, I looked up at the seagulls, and one crapped in me eye.”

“So?” I answer. “You shouldn’t have lost an eye from that.”

“Arrr, I wasn’t used to the hook yet!” He roared. He swung his hook at me...

Pretty exciting isn't it? I hope that I survive because I didn't mention the most terrifying aspect of these buccaneers.

That's right, they're flying the Jolly Rancher.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Continued from two posts after the post before yesterday

"I would never leave you," Huxley purred.

"Me neither," I answered.

Huxley pulled away from me as Baltizar grabbed a briefcase and headed out the door.

"He's getting away!" she yelled.

I chased after him, but instead of trying to get downstairs, he headed for the emergency exit and upstairs to the roof of Hotel Casablanca.

"I'm afraid that I'll be taking my leave of you, right," he laughed.

A large landing craft appeared behind him. It started hovering towards him. I aimed my rifle at Baltizar.

"Don't move!" I yelled above the whine of the engines.

"Oh come on, eh," he yelled back. "You're a good guy! You're not going to shoot an unarmed man, are you?"

I put one round in his leg and he dropped to the rooftop howling in pain. I then fired at the landing craft and chased it away.

"Alright alright, you got me," Baltizar winced through the pain. "How about a deal, vis a vis, you and me, eh? I'm talking about this case, AKA, your case full of space gold."

"No deal, Baltizar," I announced. "You're going to jail. Space jail."

As the sun rose over a new Swestria day, Huxley, Levy and I took Baltizar to the ground floor so the Space Police could take custody of him. Klinger helped get the bodies of Maggot and Camisa-Roja onto an ambulance. As the police hauled Baltizar away, Huxley and I looked at each other.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," I said to her. "A lot of thinking for both of us. You need to get on that plane for San Angeles."

"But, Hudson, no, I... I..."

"Now, you've got to listen to me! You have any idea what you'd have to look forward to if you stayed here? Nine chances out of ten, we'd both wind up miserable together. Isn't that true, Levy?"

"I heard in a movie once that relationships based on extreme circumstances never work out," Levy answered.

"You're saying this only to make me go," Lenina said soberly.

"I'm saying it because it's true. Inside of us, we both know you belong in San Angeles. You're part of that city, the thing that keeps it going. If that plane leaves the ground and you're not in it, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life."

"But what about us?"

We'll always have Swestria. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to Hotel Casablanca. We got it back last night."

"When I said I would never leave you."

"And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Lenina, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that." I gently lifted her chin with my forefinger. "Now, now... Here's looking at you kid."

Lenina slowly turned and walked towards the space plane that would take her home.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Continued From Yesterday

I had my weapon aimed at Gervais Baltizar.

"Game over, Baltizar," I said. "Where's Huxley?"

"alright alright, hey," he squirmed. "Just don't shoot me, right."

He lead me to a bookcase and pulled a book from the shelf. The bookcase spun 45 degrees and Huxley stumbled out with her hands tied by a rope.

"Oh my God, Hudson," she sighed. "It was horrible!"

"What do you mean, eh?" Baltizar said. "I treated you like a lady."

"He snuck up behind me and knocked me down. Then he tied up my hands like this and shoved me in there."

"Hey now," Baltizar interrupted. "I know plenty of women who would like that, eh. Well, I don't know them personally, then. But I know of them."

"Oh and the whole time, he was babbling about how I would be treated very well in his office. He would treat me like an equal."

"It's true," he replied. "In my office, I don't care if your black, brown or yellow. You know, Slags make very good workers."

"You're crazy," I said.

"No no no," Baltizar held up his hands. "I'm not mad, but you don't have to be mad to work here, heh heh, in fact, we ask you to complete a medical questionnaire to ensure that you are not."

I looked at Huxley. "So he just tied you up and hauled you off like that?"

"Oh yes," she replied. "I was so surprised that I couldn't fight back."

"Why didn't you just kick him or something?" I asked.

"You mean like this?" She threw her boot right into Baltizar's stomach. He doubled over in pain.

Huxley ran up to me and I cut off the ropes binding her wrists with my combat knife.

"Oh Hudson," she smiled. "I'm so grateful."

She leaned forward and kissed me.


Tuesday, February 21, 2006

The Chase Is On

I knew that I didn't have much time. The loathsome middle manager for Galactor the Evil Galactic Overlord, Gervais Baltizar, abducted Officer Huxley and moved her to another room. To hinder me, he set a trap with a holographic Xenomorph. I easily defeated the trap, but now I have to find and stop Baltizar. Huxley had a small radio receiver/ transmitter in her ear; I would use that to find her.

"Huxley, are you still there?"

"Affirmative," came her hushed voice. "Please hurry!"

"Space Ace to Oddball, do you read me? Over."

"Yeah man, whoa, like always. Woof woof," Oddball's voice crackled over the radio. "That's my dog impression."

"Huxley's been taken. I need you to triangulate her position using your radio equipment. Over."

"You got it, little buddy," he replied. "Arf arf arf... that's my other dog impression."

"We don't have time for this, man," I growled into the radio. "If we don't find her soon, she's a goner!"

"Always with the negative waves, Hudson, always with the negative waves."


"See, I found her man," Oddball may have been pointing at his screen. I don't know. "She's three floors above you in the penthouse suite."

"I copy," I replied. "Huxley, I know where you are. I'm coming to get you!"

"Hurry!" came her frantic voice.

I ran to the elevator and took it to the top level. When I got out, I looked down the hallway and saw three doors to my left, three doors to my right.

"Oddball, can you give me a more accurate placement of Huxley?" I said over the radio.

"No way, man," he replied. "But she's definitely on that floor.

Quickly, I ran into door number 1. Unbeknownst to me, Gervais came out of 4 and ran through door 3.

I exited 5 and dove into 6, but Gervais came out of 2 and ran into 1.

I Came out of 1 and went into 4, Gervais came out of 6 and went into 5.

I came out of 6 and went into 3, Gervais came out of 4 and went into 1.

I came out of 2 and ran up to 5, Gervais ran out of 3 and ran up into 5.

Slowly, I backed out of 4, Gervais was backing out of 3. We had our backs to each other and didn't see each other. Slowly, we turned around and I went into 3 and he into 4.

I then ran out of 1 and into 2, he ran out of 2 and into 1.

I ran out of 5 and ran to 4, he ran out of 6 and ran to 3.

I ran out of 1 and ran to 4. This time, I didn't go through it, but I slammed the door and waited in the hallway.

Gervais ran out of 5, I leveled my M41A Pulse Rifle at him.

"Game over, Baltizar," I sneered.

"Aw nuts."

Monday, February 20, 2006

Deadpool tagged me

OK, so Deadpool tagged me, and tagged me with possibly the most bizarre, most asinine meme possible. The only way this thing could be more asinine and bizarre would be if it were written by a thousand drunken monkeys on a thousand cheap typewriters.

Since I am off on Big Brother Naboo as well as fighting Sentinel/Brood Hybrids with Professor X and Private Hudson is in the middle of rescuing Huxley, I figure that it would be a perfect time to do this thing.

If you were to ghost write Deadpool's autobiography, what would you name it?

Mary Kate and Ashley: Building an Empire

If Simon Cowell were to ask you to help takeover France with Deadpool and himself, would you accept?

Yes, but I don't think that I'll actually need Simon there.

On a scale of 50-100, with 50 being mind blowing and 100 being drooling the Nile river, how would you rate Bea Arthur?

Maude Bea Arthur or Golden Girls Bea Arthur? Because there is no comparison, man. Woo.

If you were to appear on Deadpool's show, who would you play?

Your wacky neighbor, Jon the Intergalactic Gladiactor!

List 5 ways to improve tacos.

1. Add bacon
2. Have it with a beer
3. Make it bigger because bigger is better
4. Make it a crunchy all beef taco smothered in nacho cheese, lettuce, tomato, and special Southwestern sauce; wrapped in a soft flour tortilla with a layer of re-fried beans in between; wrapped in a savory corn tortilla with a middle layer of Monterey jack cheese; wrapped in a deep fried gordita shell smeared with a layer of special guacomolito sauce; wrapped in a corn husk filled with pico de gallo; wrapped in an authentic Parisian crepe filled with egg, gruyere, sausage and portobello mushrooms; wrapped in a Chicago-style, deep-dish, meat lover's pizza; rolled up in a blueberry pancake; dipped in batter and deep fried until it's golden brown; and served in a commemorative tote bag filled with spicy vegetarian chili.
5. Nothing can make a taco better.

Would you die for Deadpool?

Not really. Maybe I'd dye my hair for him, but I doubt it.

Do you find Cable's eyes dreamy?

I do have to wonder how he can see through the white eye pieces on his mask.

Well, that was interesting to say the least. Evidently, I am supposed to tag two people, so I tag Private Hudson and Karnov. Ha! Karnov, how do you like turnabout, eh?

Jeez, I need a beer.

Friday, February 17, 2006

The Xenomorph Loomed Over Me

Oh dear Lord Jesus, this ain't happening, man... This can't be happening, man! This isn't happening!

The creature howled and lunged at me. I opened fire with my pulse rifle.

"Come on! Come on!" I yelled. "Come and get it, baby! Come on! Let's go, yeah, come on! Come on! Come and get it you bastard! Come on, you too! Oh, you want some of this? Screw you!"

The ammo counter on my weapon rolled down. 95, 94, 93, 92, 91. The creature howled, but it wasn't going down.

72, 71, 70, 69, 68. I kept firing, the creature raised itself to its full height and screeched more. It didn't jerk back from being hit, though the walls and curtains behind it got chewed up.

"Come on! Take that!" I yelled some more. It howled more. Maybe I got it demoralized.

51, 50, 49, 48, 47, 46, 45, 44. Everything behind the creature was in ruins, but the thing would not go down.

29, 28, 27, 26, 25. "You're dog meat, pal!"

8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. I emptied the full magazine of 10 X 24 mm caseless at it and again it howled. But it did not drop.

The giant bug bore down on me. Slime dripped off it's dark dermis and it's secondary mouth slid towards me. It's hot breath was... wait a minute, there was no hot breath!

I swung the barrel of my weapon at the creature's face and it passed right through! It's a hologram.

I looked around, smoke from my rifle wafted throughout the room. I saw the emitter in the corner, the light that was drawing the creature cut through the smoke.

I slapped a fresh magazine into my M41A Pulse Rifle and cut the emitter to pieces with several three-round bursts.

Catching my breath, I noticed that my pants were a bit damp. I must have been sweating a lot during my confrontation with the faux Xenomorph.

"Hudson? Are you there?" I heard Huxley's hushed voice over the radio.

"Where are you?" I called back.

"Gervais moved me to another room. I don't know where I am, but he hasn't found my radio!"

That's right, she had an earbud! Now I just have to find her.

"Please hurry!" she pleaded. "He keeps alternating between talking about how great of an office manager he is and how Dutch women shouldn't be punished for having large breasts. He's disgusting!"

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Convoluted Convolutions

A shadow loomed over Huxley and she turned and screamed. Something kicked the periscope, though, so I couldn’t tell what was happening. I knew that I had to spring into action again.

Quickly, I ran out the door and punched the up button on the elevator. I tapped my foot as I waited impatiently for the doors to open. Not quickly enough they did, and I leapt into the elevator car and tapped the button to the floor above. The doors closed and the metal box began to lift. Hey, it’s The Girl From Ipanema! I got to the floor and the doors opened.

Quickly, I ran down the corridor and threw all my weight into the door. This one didn’t give. I stepped back and threw my shoulder into it again. It still didn’t budge. The third time was the charm, though, as the door cracked open. I looked around and I didn’t see Huxley or Gervais in the room anywhere. I unslung my M41A Pulse Rifle and scanned the room for any movement.

I turned around and I saw it looming over me!

Game over, man… Game over!

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Complicated Complications...

I rushed into the room to see two crumpled bodies and a lot of blood on the floor. Maggot was face down in one corner with a pistol still clasped in his hand and Camisa-Roja was on the other side of the room. Levy was leaning against a wall with the smoking barrel of his rifle pointed in Maggot’s direction.

“What happened?” I demanded.

“Maggot totally went nuts, man,” Levy said. “He shot Roja and was going to shoot me. I had to.”

“It’s OK, I know, I know.”

“I can’t believe it,” Levy whispered. “Shooting bugs is one thing, but a person…”

“You did what you had to do.” I cringed when he said bugs, then I looked over at Roja. He gurgled.

I rushed over and cradled Roja in my arms. He gurgled again.

“I’m not gonna make it.”

“Nonsense,” I answered. “We’ll get you patched up and you’ll be good as new.”

“Coff coff. It’s getting dark.”

“You’ve got your whole career ahead of you. Just hang on. Levy, call Klinger down here!”

Levy ran to the radio while Roja coughed some more.

“Papa? Is that you?”

“Klinger’s gonna be here,” I assured him. “He’s gonna take good care of you.”

“Cough cough… nnngh…” his head dropped back. Over the radio, Klinger said that he was heading down.

“Don’t die, damn you!” I yelled. Roja’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up.

“Tell momma that I won’t be home for dinner…” his head collapsed again.

“You’re gonna tell ‘er,” I said. And you will be home for dinner.”

He hauled himself up to me one more time. “Caff caff! Tell my special gal that I loved her so.”

“Don’t die, damn you! Don’t die!”

“He just barely moved his head to look at me. He coughed again. “Tell Auntie Em I found the rainbow………”

Klinger burst through the door. “Let me look at ‘im.”

I then remembered that we had Huxley upstairs in Baltizar’s room. Quickly I ran to the periscope to see what was going on. Huxley was very carefully picking through Baltizar’s room, looking for the combination to the wall safe.

“Get out of there, get out of there,” I said. She couldn’t hear me.

She picked a piece of paper out of a pair of pants draped over a chair. She looked at it then waved it towards the periscope, hopping up and down with glee.

“I think she’s got it!” I exclaimed.

Then a shadow loomed over her.

(To be continued...)

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Developments develop...

"Hudson! Hudson! Are you there?" came a hushed voice over the radio.

I blinked awake. I was dozing on a chair and it was a pretty comfortable chair for sitting. It wasn't that great for sleeping in, though.

I made a command decision, I would let Klinger sleep in the bed. He offered to take shifts but I declined. I figured that if I just dozed, I could be ready for anything on a moment's notice. Right?

"Hudson! This is Camisa-Roja! Are you there? Over." came his whispered voice again.

I snapped up my radio. "Red Shirt, this is Space Ace, you are not following radio procedure. Your callsign is Red Shirt. Over."

"Space Ace, this is Red Shirt. There seems to be a problem with Maggot. I think he's going to flip out. Over."

"What do you mean 'flip out?' Over."

"He's just sitting there staring at Levy and me, mumbling things under his breath. Over."

"What is he mumbling? Over."

"It sounds like bible verses. Over. he's sweating a lot, too. Over."

This doesn't sound too good. I am going to have to do something about this. Get Maggot out of harms way or something.

"OK, standby," I answered. "I'll be right down there. Over."

"Roger. Over and Out."

Now I was getting mad. Camisa-Roja was not following radio procedures at all.

"Red Shirt, this is Space Ace," I said into the radio. "You cannot say 'over' and 'out' together. It's improper radio procedure, 'over' means that you are done with what you are saying and it is the other person's turn to talk. 'Out' means that you are done talking and that the conversation is finished. You cannot put the two together."

"Uhh, roger wilco, Space Ace," Red Shirt said. "Maggot looks really bad. Over."

Now I was getting super hot steamed off! He screwed up the procedures again!

"Red Shirt, this is Space Ace. You cannot say 'roger wilco,' either. 'Roger' means that you understand what is being said. 'Wilco' means that you understand what is being said and that you will comply. You can't put the two phrases together. Over."

"Wilco," he said over the radio. "Maggot is flipping out! I repeat, Maggot is flipping out!"

That was the last straw, I grabbed the radio operations and procedures manual. I was going to take that to him and make him memorize the whole dang book if I had to.

"Red Shirt, this is Space Ace. When you say 'I repeat' it means that you are asking for a second artillery barrage. If you want to say something a second time, you need to say 'I say again.' If you do not follow proper radio procedure, then you need to hand it over to someone who will. Do you copy?"

He didn't reply.

"I say again, do you copy?"

Suddenly, I heard gunfire coming over the radio. Quickly, I sprung up out of the room and ran to the elevator -- I didn't even bother to put on my disguise. I pushed the down button. I waited for the elevator to get there and the doors to open. I pushed the button to the floor below me and crossed my arms impatiently as the doors closed.

The lift dropped a level and opened it's doors; I sprinted out of it and ran to their room. I threw my shoulder into the door and burst through it. That's where I saw....

(To be continued...)

Monday, February 13, 2006

In the hotel...

Klinger and I got to the hotel and walked up to the front desk. The clerk looked up from his computer. He looked down and then quickly looked up again, his eyes bulging out ever so slightly.

"May I... help you?" he asked, regaining his composure.

"We have a reservation for the Honeymoon Suite," I said.

"Of course." Looked down his nose at us. "You two look... lovely... together."

Klinger and I looked at one another.

"Oh yeah," Klinger asserted. "We have so much in common."

"We can't get enough of each other," I stammered.

We smiled.

"Right," sniffed the clerk. "Here are your keycards. The finest Space Champagne is available in your room. If you need anything, please don't... hesitate to ask."

"Thanks!" I said. I snapped the keys from his hand.

We took the elevator up to our floor. Coincidentally, Gervais was standing outside the door to his room. "Hello, there. I guess we're neighbors then, eh?"

"Good morning," I shook his hand. "I'm Priva-- uh, Corp, er, Hudson-sky. Yeah, Bill Hudsonsky. I work for a private corporation. Yeah. This is my wife, Klingera."

"And you're here on your honeymoon, hey?"

"Oh, we're so much in love," Klinger wrapped his arms around me.

"Yeah," Gervais leered. "You're a lucky man. A sweet little thing, right? Take good care of that one, 'cuz if you don't I might have to, eh?

I winced just a bit as he nudged me with his elbow.

"Oh, I'll do that."

"Let's go, honey," Klinger shot his thumb towards the door to our room. "I have to put on my face."

I unlocked the door with the keycard.

"Wait wait wait," Gervais said. "You've got to carry her across the threshold, right?"

"Oh well, I uh..." I mumbled.

"We already did it!" Klinger blurted.

"Aw," the villain smiled. "Go on, you're a lovely, lovely couple."

I hoisted Klinger up and carried him through the doorway. I kicked the door closed and dropped him.

"Hey!" he complained as he thumped on the floor.

"Look here, fruitcake," I said to him. "We are just posing as husband and wife to get close to this criminal. There won't be any hanky panky going on in this room!"

"Fine by me," Klinger held up his hands. "I don't go for that, anyway. I'm a married man."


"Well what did you think?" he said. "Of course I'm married. I originally tried dressing up like a woman to get a Section 8. That didn't work, but the Office of Strategic Services discovered me and I've been going under cover like this ever since."

"Oh so you're..."

"This is my last mission," he insisted. "After that, I'm retiring. Soon-Lee and I are going to live in a nice little place and take care of her family farm. Well, either that, or I'll work for my old CO at a veteran's hospital in the Midwest."

"Oh, you don't want to do that," I said. "You really don't want to do that."

"Space Ace, this is Star Child," I heard over the radio. It was Levy. "Come in, over."

"This is Space Ace," I replied.

"We're in position in our room and we're set."

"Roger that," I said. "Oddball, are you there?"

"Oh yeah, man," came Oddball's voice. "Crazy! I mean like so many positive waves maybe we can't lose!"

"Right," I answered. "Huxley's in position, too. The operation is a go."

Friday, February 10, 2006

Time tuh saddle up... pilgrum

It must be the hat, though I would think that I would score a little higher on the roguish part. I am charming, though, and there's nothing wrong with being the straight-up good guy in a white hat, right? Wait, do I have a white hat?

John Wayne
You scored 47% Tough, 4% Roguish, 19% Friendly, and 28% Charming!
You, my friend, are a man's man, the original true grit, one tough talking, swaggering son of a bitch. You're not a bad guy, on the contrary, you're the ultimate good guy, but you're one tough character, rough and tumble, ready for anything. You call the shots and go your own way, and if some screwy dame is willing to accept your terms, that's just fine by you. Otherwise, you'll just hit the open trail and stay true to yourself. You stand up for what you believe and can handle any situation, usually by rushing into the thick of the action. You're not polished and you're not overly warm, but you're a straight shooter and a real stand up guy. Co-stars include Lauren Bacall and Maureen O'Hara, tough broads who can take care of themselves.

Find out what kind of classic dame you'd make by taking the Classic Dames Test.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 89% on Tough

free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 6% on Roguish

free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 27% on Friendly

free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 51% on Charming
Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Thursday, February 09, 2006

OK, Here's the Plan

It's all laid out, we know what to do.

Klinger and I will pose as a honeymoon couple, we will get the suite next to Gervais Baltizar's.

We inserted Officer Huxley into the resort as maid. She will be able to gain access to, and hopefully bug, his room.

Private Levy will pose as Levy Beethoven Mozart, the galaxy's most famous space violinist. Maggot will act as his manager and Camisa-Roja will be there as well as a "handler." We've secured the room directly below Baltizar's and they will set up an operations center there. If needed, they can drill through the ceiling to spy on him.

Oddball will be in a modified and concealed APC hidden outside the resort. When needed, he can spring into action and get us out of there. We have special radio equipment that's secured and scrambled, so the whole team will be able to communicate.

I've got one more ace up my sleeve. My good buddy, Corporal Ferro's going to be there with her dropship.

"We're in the pipe, five by five."

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming

Happy Birthday Kiera Ann Intergalactic Gladiator.

Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Kiera
Happy birthday to you


This is your birthday song
It isn't very long...

Four years old today.

Now back to your regularly scheduled inanity.

(Psst, have you been reading Big Brother: Naboo? You should be)

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Finishing up the training.

The General and I were standing on a berm watching my troops assault the bunker.

"Your troops look damn good, Hudson," he commended. "Damn good."

"We've been training hard, sir," I said.

"It shows," the General smiled. "All that's left is to plan the operation."

The General called a cease fire and rounded up my troops. He gave them a good pep talk, explaining how proud he is of our hard work and how he's knows we'll succeed on the mission. He concluded by telling us that we start planning it on Monday and that we get the rest of the weekend off. The troops cheered and dispersed. Huxley stayed, she quietly stood in front of me.

"Is there a problem, Officer Huxley?" I asked.

"Oh please, don't call me that," she answered. "Call me Lenina."

"Sure. Is there anything I can do for you, Lenina?"

"There is," Lenina stepped close to me and breathed into my ear. "...Something."

She moved her lips across my cheek and kissed me full on the lips. It was sweet, like a peach, and I returned the kiss.

"Oh no you don't!" came a shout from out of my view.

We turned and saw Lt. Cdr Oneida stomping up towards us. "You get away from my man!" she screamed.

"He is not your man!" Lenina yelled back. "You can't appreciate a man like Hudson. I can!"

"Hudson and I go back!" she yelled. "Way back. And I'm not going to let some two-bit hussy like you come in between us."

"Two-bit? Why you little skank!"

Ranaé slapped Lenina. Hard. Lenina gasped and grabbed her cheek.

"Oh no you didn't!"

"Oh yes I did!"

Lenina slapped Ranaé. "You painted jezebel!"

Ranaé slapped Lenina. "Arcturian prostitute!"

Lenina hauled off and punched Ranaé hard across the face. The officer stumbled back then dove at the police woman.

"Ladies! Ladies!" I tried to calm them down.

Ranaé punched Lenina back even harder. Lenina returned with a stiff kick to Ranaé's stomach.

They grabbed each other by the hair and spun each other around. They pushed, they shoved and they hit. I wasn't sure how to stop this, all I could do was watch.

Finally, they tumbled down the berm and into a drainage ditch. Then they splashed into the water, still throwing punches and grabbing hair. I ran down the hillside trying to think of what to do. The water didn't ease the ferocity of their fighting.

"You stay away from my man!"

"You stay away from my man!"

"I am going to kick your horse!"

"That's 'ass,' dummy! And you ain't kicking nobody's nothing!"

"Gonna be kind of hard to go on the mission when you're in traction!"

"Gonna be kind of hard to walk out of here with your legs broken!"

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us
Suddenly, they stopped fighting. The two women sat there breathing heavily; then they looked deep into each other's eyes, their lips moved within a millimeter of each other.

"Ladies!" I yelled. "What are you doing?" The two stopped and looked at me; their cheeks lightly touched.

"Oh there's room for you," Ranaé said in a sultry voice.

"Come on in," Lenina added through her pouty lips. "The water's nice."

I stepped into the water towards the two women. Suddenly, I heard an alarm going off.

My head leaped up off the pillow. I looked around and realized that I was in my bunk. The rest of my troops were groggily picking themselves out of bed.