Wednesday, November 19, 2008

On Space Station Alpha, Part II

I tackled the assassin as the bright flash of energy shot from the phase pistol. As he went down, I wrestled the weapon from his hands. As I hauled him back to his feet, I looked over and saw the scorch mark in the bulkhead mere inches from Queen Galacta’s head.

“Wow, that was close,” I said, my eyebrows were hitched high.

“Thank you once again, Gladiator,” the Queen nodded. “The galaxy owes you another debt of gratitude.”

“Think nothing of it,” I replied. I then grabbed the assassin and brought him close to me. “Too bad for you, buddy, you missed. You lose.”

“Hardly,” he replied. “I am only the first. We are the Demon Claw and we are many. Chop off one of our hands and two will take its place.”

“Yeah, where have I heard that line before?”

“My Queen, are you all right?” Major Rocksun sprinted up to where she was standing.

“I am fine, thank you,” she responded.

“Our plans are in motion!” the assassin suddenly screamed. “We are Demon Claw and you will not get off this space station alive!”

There was a cracking sound from his mouth and he suddenly slumped lifeless. Rocksun dug his two fingers into the man’s mouth.

“Poisonyde,” he said grimly. “Held in a hollow tooth.”

“That was some fast acting poison,” I said. “I mean jeez, we didn’t even get a chance to save him or slap him or anything.”

“That’s how poisonyde works,” Rocksun responded coolly. “But what about his final warning that we’ll never get off the station alive?”

Suddenly alarm claxons sounded and red lights flashed all throughout the corridors.

“You had to ask,” I replied.

“Power core meltdown in five minutes,” a calm voice announced to us and the entire space station.

“The power core!” I yelled, but Rocksun was already three steps ahead of me and running towards the lift.

“Queen Galacta, I cannot allow you to come with us,” Rocksun blocked her entrance into the lift. “You need to evacuate Space Station Alpha immediately.”

“Nonsense,” she pushed past him and into the lift car. “I will not leave my favorite major and Intergalactic Gladiator here to die.”

The three of us made our way to the power plant and were immediately stopped by the engineering chief.

“No one can go in there,” he said brusquely. “The deck is flooded with radiation. No one would survive.”

“What about the controls?” Roksun looked over the panels.

“Locked down from the inside,” he replied. “Someone sabotaged the rad suits, too. Anyone stepping into that chamber would die from the intense radiation.”

“So you said,” I replied.

“Three minutes to core meltdown,” the calm voice warned us.

“Gotta love those countdowns, huh?” I asked.

“Hey, what’s the op, Jon?” Private Hudson appeared as the doors to the lift opened. Jo Jo the Monkeyboy Sr. was clinging to his back like an obnoxious rucksack and singing some inane song.

“Core meltdown, deadly radiation,” I pointed to the core with my thumb. “What are you even doing here?”

“Hey, I know where the action is,” he replied. “Wait. Core meltdown? Oh man, game over!”

Jo Jo Sr. quickly jumped off his back and threw himself into the radiated chamber.

“Wait Jo Jo! Come back!” Hudson cried. “Oh man, game over for him.”

“Core meltdown averted. Enjoy your stay on Space Station Alpha,” the calm voice announced.

“Wow,” Rocksun shook his head.

Jo Jo appeared behind the radiation shielding glass and pressed his hand against its surface. He then collapsed and sputtered.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it,” he said with unusual seriousness.

“Jo Jo, you did it!” Hudson exclaimed. “You saved the ship!”

“But at… coff coff… what price?” the monkeyboy replied.

“We’ll get you fixed up,” Hudson said tearfully. “You’ll be good as new, I promise.”

“I don’t think so.” The comedy relief creature coughed again. “Tell my wife that I love her.”

“Wait, your wife?” I asked.

“Yes, Gladys the Monkeygirl. See, she’s right over there.”

I turned and saw what could only be a monkeygirl standing at the doors to the lift.

“Baby, you’re the greatest,” Jo Jo sputtered and then collapsed.

“No Jo Jo, don’t go go Jo Jo!” she cried.

“We’ll always have Paris,” he sputtered and collapsed again.

“I will always love youuuuuuuu!” she sang.

“Remember, the bananas will be with you always…” he sputtered again and collapsed again.

“You’re my special banana muffin,” she said quietly.

Jo Jo the Monkeyboy Sr sputtered and collapsed for the last time.


Anonymous said...

*sob* Monkeyboy Sr. WHY!!!! Dear God WHY!!!!!

aka Gloria Traveler
aka Nathan Petrelli

Jean-Luc Picard said...

I think they are making a monkey out of you here!

mwb said...

Monkeygirl? Man you have to stop dragging my exes into your fantasy world man.

Dr. Zaius said...

I'll bet that the casing of a photon torpedo will serve as a fine casket in this case. I wonder if they will serve cake at the funeral?