Friday, June 22, 2012

The Lurker Above

Chapter Nine
The Lurker Above

The C.H.B. Lurking Vulture was a Class VII ‘Invisiship’ reconnaissance vessel from the Crafts ‘R’ Us SpaceTrans Company of the planetary system Tweepora Major in the constellation of Orion. It was noted for its cloaking and holographic functionalities but more primarily for its multi-dimensional Tesseract Deck. At the time of the telling of this illustrious tale, this model of spacecraft was only available to the Tweeporan military.

Captain Vaugnobbler and Fleaman Bigbiggerpants sat in the frontal lobe of the ship with a rotating Ouija Cube hovering between them. The two officers each had tall pointed ears, wide flat noses, long flowing wavy blue hair and single horns resembling that of a unicorn. The Captain had the longer horn. Each of them held their palms toward the floating spinning cube and moved their hands in slight gentle undulations.

“We’re so fucked,” said Captain Vaugnobbler.

“She’s coming,” said Fleaman Bigbiggerpants.

“Her gait suggests agitation and incontinence.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Sorry. Not incontinence. Superciliousness.”

“What?” said Bigbiggerpants.


“I think your C-3 nodule has become deflibwaggled.

Captain Vaugnobbler stuck his long index finger into his ear and fiddled for a moment. “You were correct, fleaman. Thank you.”


The hatch spiralled open and a similar looking creature marched in. This one had a horn roughly eight feet long; a length 133% that of her height. “Stop monitoring my gait!” she snapped.

“A thousand pardons, Commander Taumb.” said the captain.

“What the spleen is going on down there!”

“We’re losing the battle sir-ma’am!”

“How - I say - how… is that possible?”

“Bleeekxpritzle and his crew are returning fire. Damage to five out of six Drones-of-Salvation range from serious-critical to critical-alarming. The other is graded worrisome.”

“This was never supposed to BE a battle! I can’t afford to lose five drones!”

“The drone graded worrisome has now been re-graded doornail,” said the fleaman. He shook his head sadly. “Sorry.”

The captain winced and looked nervously at the commander. “We’d had no intelligence suggesting any existence of a Dwingeloopian support team nor of unearthly weaponry, until now.”

“Where in the liverschnitzel did they come from!” snapped Commander Taumb.

“The crew or the arms?”


“I can’t fathom, sir-ma’am.”

“What are Bleeekxpritzle’s vitals?”

The fleaman frowned. “Jaunty, sir-ma’am.”

“Jaunty? He hasn’t been hit even once?”


“What kind of weapons are they using against us?”

“Class nine Zan-wave lasers,” said fleaman Bigbiggerpants

“Check again fleaman,” said Vaugnobbler. “The Zans belong to us.”

“Sorry” said Bigbiggerpants. He squinted and frowned at the Ouija cube. “Sirs, I assure you: The Dwingeloopian is also using class nine Zan-wave lasers. There’s no doubt about it.”

“I’m not hearing this,” said Taumb.

“Oh no,” said Vaugnobbler.

“I am NOT… HEARING… THIS!” said Taumb.

“Oh sweet Jiminy Christmas,” said Vaugnobbler

“What the holy high-flying solar-pigeon plucking formation have you got the drones in!” the commander wailed.

“They have the ice creamery encircled, sir-ma’am.” said the fleaman who was just beginning to look terrified. “Um… All fire has now ceased.”

“Oh, what a surprise,” said Taumb.

“Commander, I’m profoundly regretful,” said the captain.

“I want this fleaman scrubbing the emergency poop-drive accelerator for the remainder of this mission,” said Commander Taumb.

“Yes sir-ma’am.”

“Is the entire Dwingeloo crew inside the ice creamery?”


“Take the whole restaurant and put it in the Tesseract Deck. Leave a mootcopy in its place.”

“Yes sir-ma’am.”

“And if you snork this up.”


“Life as you know it will be over!”

“I understand, sir-ma’am.”

“For starters I will make you watch every… single… episode… of Married With Children.”

Vaugnobbler shrank back in abject horror. Commander Taumb brought her head around so that her elephantine horn pointed straight at the Captain’s eyes. She then turned and marched out the hatch. It spiralled shut behind her. Vaugnobbler clasped his cheeks in his hands and wailed the wails of the damned.

Finally he quieted and wiped the tears from his face.

“Are you okay, sir?” asked fleaman Bigbiggerpants gently.

“Get out of my sight, poop scrubber.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“You can’t put drones in a circle formation and fire at will, you fart-snorting piffle head! Don’t you get it? They destroyed each other!”

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