(Somewhere on the Planetoid of Peril, August 8, 3008, 10:29 AM...)
*interbloggamunicator lights up, plays tinny version of "Flirtin' With Disaster" by Molly Hatchet*
Blockade Boy: Aw, hell.
*activates visi-phone function on interbloggamunicator*
Blockade Boy (into the device): Hey, Storm Boy.
Storm Boy: Ola, buddy! ...Yikes. You look like shit! Er, but you wear it well.
Blockade Boy: Just tell me what the problem is, so I can save all y'all's asses again and get back to my vacation.
Storm Boy: Sure, because it's obviously doing wonders for your attitude!
Blockade Boy: ...
Storm Boy: Relax, space-ape. There's no "problem." In fact, everything's been aces since you left!
Blockade Boy: Uh-huh. I ain't buyin' it. None of you clods could wipe your own asses without me around!
Storm Boy: If you'd bothered to tell anybody where the hell you were going, I could ship you an industrial levitator. So you could get over yourself.
Blockade Boy: Fine. So why are you pestering me right now?
Storm Boy: Mainly I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay, but you know what? You can go screw yourself.
Blockade Boy: Okay, okay... you're right. I'm sorry. I'm acting like a real bear. I mean, more so than usual.
Storm Boy: We really are doing great, by the way. I'm not shitting you.
Blockade Boy: If you say so.
Storm Boy: It's just -- oh, how can I put this without it sounding all catty? ...It's like, you were kind of the problem.
Blockade Boy: I WAS--?!
Storm Boy: Well, you know... you're kind of... overbearing? And a control freak? And you kind of make everybody just defer to you, even without you doing it on purpose or consciously or whatever? I think that's why all of us were just hanging out at your pod all the time, waiting for you to tell us what to do.
Blockade Boy: Which, of course, I never was. Since most of you annoy the crap out of me.
Storm Boy: Heh. Yeah, exactly.
Blockade Boy: So...?
Storm Boy: So, once you left, it was like a big, hairy blanket had been lifted off of us, and we could finally breathe and move our limbs. The rest of them are really good guys, once you get past their little quirks, and I figured out a cool new direction for us! By whom I mean, "me and Bad Apple Boy and Posture Queen." Not you.
Blockade Boy: What about Phantom Lad?
Storm Boy: Oh, he took off. He said he had a hot lead about rioting on Imsk. Really tiny rioting. He wants to sell the story to U.P. News and Worlds Report.
Blockade Boy: Are you remembering to feed Cootie?
Storm Boy: Rainbow Girl is taking care of her! It makes more sense, if you think about it. They've really bonded. You might have a fight on your hands when you come back! ...By the way, when are you coming back?
Blockade Boy: I dunno. I feel like I can be more like "myself" out here. Sometimes I think I'm not cut out for Polite Society.
Storm Boy: Heh. I think you're right. Oh! I just figured it out! You're on the Planetoid of Peril!
Blockade Boy: What th'--?! You deduced that from what I just said?
Storm Boy: Nope. I just caught a glimpse of the Citadel of Doom over your left shoulder. Well?
Blockade Boy: "Well" what, smart guy?
Storm Boy: Don't you want to know about our exciting new direction? It's the other reason why I called you.
Blockade Boy: Yeah, sure. Astound me.
Storm Boy: We're the All-New Jagged Edge Explosion Balloon! Featuring Storm Boy!
Blockade Boy: You want to lead my old garage band. Really.
Storm Boy: I've reworked our "sound" to really spotlight the Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone. It's astro-ska! Posture Queen is choreographing all our dance moves, and she plays a mean nuclear-powered zither, and we have Bad Apple Boy on glockenspiel, plus of course he raps.
Blockade Boy: Of course.
Storm Boy: And now that Tusker and Dentata Damsel are out of the nervous hospital, I've snagged them for banjo and didgeridoo, respectively.
Blockade Boy: Holy cats! You're serious about this.
Storm Boy: We've played some nightclubs already, and we're auditioning for a scout from Computoblanca Records. Oh! And Element Lad and Invisible Kid want us to play at their wedding!
Blockade Boy: ...
Storm Boy: Blockade Boy...?
Blockade Boy: Um. Wow.
Storm Boy: Yeah, so since you never were all that into the band, I was wondering if I could get the copyright to the name from you. I'll pay you whatever you want for it.
Blockade Boy: You can have it. No charge. I'll have my lawyer visi-phone you.
Storm Boy: Sweet! So you're doing okay? You're having fun?
Blockade Boy: ...Yeah. I'm great! I gotta go, though. I have a whole big day planned.
Storm Boy: Oh! That's cool. Well...! Keep in touch, okay?
Blockade Boy: Sure. Have a good one, fat-ass!
Storm Boy: Right back at ya, fat-ass! Seeya.
*Blockade Boy deactivates visi-phone function, then hurls interbloggamunicator against a boulder. It bounces off, unharmed. He picks it up again, and stalks off into the jungle.*
Showing posts with label Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone. Show all posts
Friday, August 08, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Home Planet Movies
My cousin, Phyllis, sent me a holo-vid of a big Staad "family reunion" they held back on my home planet of Amadus! Naturally, I couldn't attend. I mean, I'm currently evading a U.P. law by posing as my own (fictional) twin brother, and I didn't want to have to explain that to about two hundred grumpy, hairy people. There's also the little matter of my hating the entire lot of them. So that's problematic.
I don't want to bore you by showing you the entire vid. And besides, your pathetic 21st-century eyeballs (and brains) wouldn't be able to perceive the holo-dimensions, anyway. But still, I thought I'd post some 2-D screengrabs. It'll give you a nice glimpse of what my people are wearing nowadays (1,000 years from now, in another dimension) and consequently, both why I became a fashion designer and moved the hell away from there.
This is my favorite sequence on the holo-vid, by the way. Because there's violence!
Storm Boy! Play something appropriately jolly on your electric sousasaxotimpanibone, will you? How's 'bout the "Amok Time" theme from "Star Trek"? ...No, screw you! And why are you pointing at me with your pinky finger?! You've been doing that a lot, lately. ...OH, FOR--!
...He says "Pointing at people with your pinky finger is the new pointing at people with your index finger." GAH. I think I liked him better as a miserable wreck. Okay, so not really. But this "sassy queen" routine of his is working my last nerve.
Where were we? Aw, yeah! The holo-vid!
At this point in the holo-vid, there's been a dispute over who was supposed to bring the Jell-o salad, and Gyll is hurling professional-strength barbs at...
And then Gyll says something about Dylbyrt's back hair (as in, he doesn't have enough of it) and then it's on.
And then my weird, body-waxing cousin Olyvyr shows up (late again!) and starts dancing.
I don't want to bore you by showing you the entire vid. And besides, your pathetic 21st-century eyeballs (and brains) wouldn't be able to perceive the holo-dimensions, anyway. But still, I thought I'd post some 2-D screengrabs. It'll give you a nice glimpse of what my people are wearing nowadays (1,000 years from now, in another dimension) and consequently, both why I became a fashion designer and moved the hell away from there.
This is my favorite sequence on the holo-vid, by the way. Because there's violence!
Storm Boy! Play something appropriately jolly on your electric sousasaxotimpanibone, will you? How's 'bout the "Amok Time" theme from "Star Trek"? ...No, screw you! And why are you pointing at me with your pinky finger?! You've been doing that a lot, lately. ...OH, FOR--!
...He says "Pointing at people with your pinky finger is the new pointing at people with your index finger." GAH. I think I liked him better as a miserable wreck. Okay, so not really. But this "sassy queen" routine of his is working my last nerve.
Where were we? Aw, yeah! The holo-vid!
At this point in the holo-vid, there's been a dispute over who was supposed to bring the Jell-o salad, and Gyll is hurling professional-strength barbs at...
And then Gyll says something about Dylbyrt's back hair (as in, he doesn't have enough of it) and then it's on.
And then my weird, body-waxing cousin Olyvyr shows up (late again!) and starts dancing.
Friday, September 28, 2007
The Line to Punch Young Gerry Conway in the 'Nads Forms Here
How do you like that, readers? Where's your O. Henry now? Young G. Night Shamaconway must've been beside himself with glee, musing on the cleverness of this unexpected twist. Never mind that Illusion Demitrius still managed to knock the crap out of Iron Man, rendering the "twist" both pointless and incomprehensible. But you all must admit, you didn't see it coming. Because it's STUPID.
(In the background, Iron Man spots what could very well be a small puddle of vodka next to that broken bottle, and takes measures to secure it.)
*With all due respect to Patton Oswald.
Friday, September 07, 2007
Have All My Friends Had Fun at Play?
Director: I gotta say, you are acing this audition, Demitrius!
Demitrius: Bolshoi spasibo, tovarisch-- er, um, I mean, thanks.
Director: Let's just skip to then end, then... that'd be the top of page five in your script. And you can just improv the children's names... feel free to "riff" here.
Demitrius [nods, excitedly flips through script]: Romper, bomper, stomper, boo. Tell me, tell me, tell me, do. Magic mirror, tell me today, have all my friends had fun at play? ...I can see Mike, and Skip, and Farrah, and Jon, and... Guss, and, and Maggie, and Phil, I, I can see so many children, oh God! Head... pounding...!
Director: Whoa! You okay there, buddy?
Demitrius [hyperventilating, trembling]: ...And Phil, and Jen, and Aaron! Jayson! Dorian! Sweet Lord, Slasher, their names--!!!
Director [looks around at otherwise empty room]: "Slasher"? Who the hell--?
Demitrius: I can't hold it in any longer!
Director: Oh, uh, if you need to take a bathroom break, that's cool, we can just--
Demitrius: The change... starting!!! [His forehead bulges and bubbles like some guy from "Scanners" and then two prehensile lobster-clawed arms pop out] GRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!! MUST... DESTROY...
Director [calmly picks up telephone and punches a button]: Sally, please send in the next applicant... oh, and get the police on the line, would you? Thanks.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Extreme Blockadeover: Ed Novak
Ah, another missive for me from the 21st Century! This one is from an "Ed Novak" but after that "Loren Lassiter" business (I'm still not convinced, "Loren") I'm treating the name of every new correspondent as a puzzle that must be solved! For example, I see that "Ed Novak" is an anagram for "Oak Vend." Huh. ...Yeah, I got nothin'. I'll have to file that one away for later. You've won this round, "Ed." Go ahead and show me your wares. Speak to me from the dusty eons of yore!
Oh! I just remembered! About the costume... this is almost exactly what I wore to Junior Prom! (And you don't want to know where Weight Wizard wanted me to put the boutonniere.)
Okay, judgment time: I like the idea of the peekaboo cape -- very clever. However, the extreme angle of the "truss" makes it a little too reminiscent of ladies' evening gowns for my tastes. And while it's a good design in general, there's not much in it that makes it stand out to me. (The orange side-patches on the legs remind me of my earlier designs from a couple of years ago... or was it twenty? Damn sliding timeline!) So I'm going to pass on it. Thanks for playin', Oak!
P.S. About the name change... it's so crazy it just might work. I'm still kind of attached to the whole "Boy" thing, though, especially with the Legion still going by "Boy" and "Lad" and "Kid" even while they're pre-registering their kids for private schools and setting up retirement accounts. What do you think, readers? Should I drop the "Boy" from my codename?
Well, seein' as MaGnUs has managed to prove that an interesting costume can be done with HeroMachine, I've decided to put my limited skills to the test. Hope you think this is as cool as I do!Yeah. Me too.
Don't eliminate him yet!How's about you don't tell me what to do, Mr. Vend or whoever you really are? *grumbles*
Your chest is mostly naked beneath the cowl, including your diamond cutters. The purple leotard ends in a sort of triangular point beneath the cape (y'know, I could probably just make a version without the cape...one sec. There we go.) I know you'd prefer your chest exposed at all times, but check this out -- you can show it off whenever you want...WITH A DRAMATIC CAPE FLIP! You'll start a fight with the menacing, cloaked appearance Batman always has, but once you start kicking ass, your rugged shoulders and manly nipples will be out there for your foes (and press) to admire! C'mon, you know that's awesome. And hey, if you want 'em on display all the time, you can just throw the cape back.Well, don't tell me, boy! Show me!
Also, the grayness of it kinda evokes the whole "moderately-sized steel wall" thing. And I thought, y'know...it looked nice.
Finally, you're "Blockade" now because the costume makes ya look a little older, wiser, grizzled, and more experienced. Also, it sounds much more badass without the "boy." At least I think so. Please don't hurt me.You did not just tell me what to do again! *grabs rebuilt Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone from passing Storm Boy and smashes it to bits* Balls. Now see what you made me do. *stews for a minute*
Oh! I just remembered! About the costume... this is almost exactly what I wore to Junior Prom! (And you don't want to know where Weight Wizard wanted me to put the boutonniere.)
Okay, judgment time: I like the idea of the peekaboo cape -- very clever. However, the extreme angle of the "truss" makes it a little too reminiscent of ladies' evening gowns for my tastes. And while it's a good design in general, there's not much in it that makes it stand out to me. (The orange side-patches on the legs remind me of my earlier designs from a couple of years ago... or was it twenty? Damn sliding timeline!) So I'm going to pass on it. Thanks for playin', Oak!
P.S. About the name change... it's so crazy it just might work. I'm still kind of attached to the whole "Boy" thing, though, especially with the Legion still going by "Boy" and "Lad" and "Kid" even while they're pre-registering their kids for private schools and setting up retirement accounts. What do you think, readers? Should I drop the "Boy" from my codename?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Battle Hymn of the Exquisite
Hello, blog lovers!
There was an... incident earlier this morning. I'm not sure if I'm ready to post anything about it yet.
...Okay, now I am.
The solar collectors are complete and fully-functional, so now all we have to do is wait for them to charge up, which will take a few days. Weight Wizard wanted to turn in, but the rest of the crew thought a celebration was in order. That's when Storm Boy revealed his "surprise" for me. It turned out to be something he called "An All-Star Tribute to Blockade Boy Featuring Storm Boy With Special Guests Rainbow Girl and Tusker." Which was a fancy way of saying the three of them had worked out a marching band routine in my honor! And I know how much Storm Boy hates marching, so my mighty heart was moved in a wondrous manner.
Rainbow Girl played her fife, and Tusker struggled along as best he could on that ocarina I gave him, and Storm Boy... well, I'm not sure when he even found the time to construct the damn thing, but he was playing an instrument of his own design, a perfectly ghastly-looking object he had dubbed an Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone. It combines the features of a Sousaphone, a saxophone, a timpani drum, and a trombone. And when he operated it, Storm Boy looked like he was simultaneously pleasuring and being crushed by something from an H.R. Giger painting. As near as I can tell he had pre-programmed it with tunes so it was closer to a barrel organ than something you'd see in an orchestra. Cootie was so alarmed by its noise that she scrambled for the lower decks after the first note. I wasn't familiar with any of the songs they played. After the incident I demanded he tell me the titles for all of them and then I also made him show me the sheet music so I could read the lyrics.
It explained a lot.
They started out with "Toxic" by Britney Spears, then segued into "Ain't No Other Man" by Christina Aguilera. I didn't know any better at the time, so I just sat in the reviewing stand (i.e. a folding chair) smiling and holding on to Weight Wizard's increasingly slippery, fidgety hand. Storm Boy and the others stomped merrily around the deck and even made a pass under the big dome in a nod to our temporarily-petrified figurehead, Plant Lad, who is several decks up and strapped to the "prow" in the unforgiving vacuum of space. They had made it halfway through Kylie Minogue's "Come Into My World" when Weight Wizard wrenched himself free of my grasp. "This is bullshit," he hissed at me. "How much longer are you gonna make me sit here and listen to this no-talent fat-ass suck-up and his loser brigade?"
"Easy on the hyphenated insults, kid," I chuckled. I tried to grasp his hand again but he yanked it away. I glanced over at Storm Boy. His face was crimson. He held up his right hand in some kind of signal and his confused bandmates suddenly started in on a new tune, which I later found out was something called "Girlfriend" by one of Canada's most revered prime ministers, Brigadier-General Avrile Levigne-Thicke. Weight Wizard stood there with his back ramrod-straight and his arms folded, scowling at Storm Boy. For his part, Storm Boy marched with great intensity in a circle around him, dipping the bell of his Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone ever-closer to Weight Wizard's face.
"Light," spat Weight Wizard, contemptuously. He leaped almost to the top of the dome. Then he shouted "Heavy!" and he came down like a cannonball on top of Weight Wizard, smashing the Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone and not-so-coincidentally breaking Storm Boy's arm. Then it was on. The two of them started brawling, with Storm Boy getting a couple of rabbit punches in on Weight Wizard with his good arm, Weight Wizard unleashing some impressive karate moves on Storm Boy, and Tusker whaling on the both of them for no discernible reason and with a goofy grin on his face. Rainbow Girl, bless 'er, split into her energy forms and did her best to pull everybody apart. But Weight Wizard was so light and so slick with perspiration that she couldn't get a proper grip on him. I threw myself off my chair and propelled myself across the deck just using my arms, like Ursula in "The Little Mermaid" and the next time Weight Wizard bounced into the deck I snagged his foot, pulled him down, and threw my body on top of his so he couldn't get away. Storm Boy used this as an opportunity to kick him in the arm before Rainbow Girl zapped him with an enervating ray and he crumpled to the deck himself.
Meanwhile, Weight Wizard frothily screamed at me to get off of him, getting spit all over my rugged, handsome face. As I roared back at him to calm down I was overcome by vertigo. My voice went strangely flat and buzzy, my arms lost all feeling, and the two of us suddenly shot up into the air. He deftly rolled my body off of his own. I slammed into the deck. I could see Weight Wizard moonwalk-bouncing off to God-knows-where. Rainbow Girl and Tusker rushed over to me. I could tell by the looks on their faces that it was bad. "It happened again, didn't it?" I buzzed.
And sure enough, it had. My body is now almost totally metal, except for a few fleshy parts inside my skull. Everything else is hollow. Since my hands are useless and I'm not about to put any art supplies in my mouth I had to ask Storm Boy to do a rendering of my current state. Yes, I know. Don't start with me.
I haven't seen it yet. Let's discover it together!
I'm pretty sure I have never adopted that pose in my entire freaking life. (Although you just know Storm Boy does, whenever he needs to hitch a ride or score a free pastry or whatever.) Ugh. Of course, I can't stand up at all now but if I could? I wouldn't do it like that. The picture also makes me look a bit too curvaceous and Art Nouveau for my tastes, but otherwise it's a fair likeness.
I don't know what will happen if (or when) the last of me disappears and the only thing left is this shell of steel. I might be like Plant Lad, frozen solid with my eyes wide open. I wonder... is his mind frozen, too? I know he gets stupider as his whole body slows down in preparation for dormancy, but maybe his brain never completely shuts off... maybe he sees everything and hears everything but it just takes him a long time to process it all. It's a mystery. There are nights when Rainbow Girl is at the wheel and everybody else is asleep, and I pace the deck by myself, looking up through the dome at Plant Lad, and he looks down at me with that glum, sleepy-eyed stare. (Which I sketched a while back. See?)
But you know what? I didn't get as far as I have by being a pessimist. I've rebounded from fates as bad... well, almost as bad as this. I refuse to worry about what's to come. And I've got a crew to take care of, so I'm going to focus on that. Okay, enough philosophical claptrap. Back to my narrative! *Portentiously intones* EPILOGUE!
Rainbow Girl helped me into sickbay. I had a heart-to-heart with Storm Boy (the poor sweet dope) where I explained in no uncertain terms that I Just Wasn't Into Him. I think he understands now. Tusker got a stern lecture about Minding His Own Freaking Business and I pointed out that if we weren't in such dire straits he'd be cooling his heels in the brig right now. Then Rainbow Girl and I sat down with some coffee (that sloshed down my throat into the bottom of my hollow feet) and we went through my big catalog of Commendation Medals and picked out an especially nice one for her. (She's also typing all of this for me, which is swell of her as I'm sure she'd rather be in bed.) [Too true! -- Rainbow Girl]
Weight Wizard isn't talking to me, or to anybody else. I know this is hard. It's usually me taking care of him. Maybe I've babied him too much, and that's why he's so stressed-out now. But I'm sure he'll come around. And anyway, with the raucous life I lead there very well might come a day where I have a permanent injury and I'll have to rely on him as my Primary Caregiver. So this is good practice for him. Once he gets over this initial bout of shock and denial, I'm sure he'll be fine. Because I'm an optimist, and I have faith in the little guy.
Everything will be fine.
You'll see.
There was an... incident earlier this morning. I'm not sure if I'm ready to post anything about it yet.
...Okay, now I am.
The solar collectors are complete and fully-functional, so now all we have to do is wait for them to charge up, which will take a few days. Weight Wizard wanted to turn in, but the rest of the crew thought a celebration was in order. That's when Storm Boy revealed his "surprise" for me. It turned out to be something he called "An All-Star Tribute to Blockade Boy Featuring Storm Boy With Special Guests Rainbow Girl and Tusker." Which was a fancy way of saying the three of them had worked out a marching band routine in my honor! And I know how much Storm Boy hates marching, so my mighty heart was moved in a wondrous manner.
Rainbow Girl played her fife, and Tusker struggled along as best he could on that ocarina I gave him, and Storm Boy... well, I'm not sure when he even found the time to construct the damn thing, but he was playing an instrument of his own design, a perfectly ghastly-looking object he had dubbed an Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone. It combines the features of a Sousaphone, a saxophone, a timpani drum, and a trombone. And when he operated it, Storm Boy looked like he was simultaneously pleasuring and being crushed by something from an H.R. Giger painting. As near as I can tell he had pre-programmed it with tunes so it was closer to a barrel organ than something you'd see in an orchestra. Cootie was so alarmed by its noise that she scrambled for the lower decks after the first note. I wasn't familiar with any of the songs they played. After the incident I demanded he tell me the titles for all of them and then I also made him show me the sheet music so I could read the lyrics.
It explained a lot.
They started out with "Toxic" by Britney Spears, then segued into "Ain't No Other Man" by Christina Aguilera. I didn't know any better at the time, so I just sat in the reviewing stand (i.e. a folding chair) smiling and holding on to Weight Wizard's increasingly slippery, fidgety hand. Storm Boy and the others stomped merrily around the deck and even made a pass under the big dome in a nod to our temporarily-petrified figurehead, Plant Lad, who is several decks up and strapped to the "prow" in the unforgiving vacuum of space. They had made it halfway through Kylie Minogue's "Come Into My World" when Weight Wizard wrenched himself free of my grasp. "This is bullshit," he hissed at me. "How much longer are you gonna make me sit here and listen to this no-talent fat-ass suck-up and his loser brigade?"
"Easy on the hyphenated insults, kid," I chuckled. I tried to grasp his hand again but he yanked it away. I glanced over at Storm Boy. His face was crimson. He held up his right hand in some kind of signal and his confused bandmates suddenly started in on a new tune, which I later found out was something called "Girlfriend" by one of Canada's most revered prime ministers, Brigadier-General Avrile Levigne-Thicke. Weight Wizard stood there with his back ramrod-straight and his arms folded, scowling at Storm Boy. For his part, Storm Boy marched with great intensity in a circle around him, dipping the bell of his Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone ever-closer to Weight Wizard's face.
"Light," spat Weight Wizard, contemptuously. He leaped almost to the top of the dome. Then he shouted "Heavy!" and he came down like a cannonball on top of Weight Wizard, smashing the Electric Sousasaxotimpanibone and not-so-coincidentally breaking Storm Boy's arm. Then it was on. The two of them started brawling, with Storm Boy getting a couple of rabbit punches in on Weight Wizard with his good arm, Weight Wizard unleashing some impressive karate moves on Storm Boy, and Tusker whaling on the both of them for no discernible reason and with a goofy grin on his face. Rainbow Girl, bless 'er, split into her energy forms and did her best to pull everybody apart. But Weight Wizard was so light and so slick with perspiration that she couldn't get a proper grip on him. I threw myself off my chair and propelled myself across the deck just using my arms, like Ursula in "The Little Mermaid" and the next time Weight Wizard bounced into the deck I snagged his foot, pulled him down, and threw my body on top of his so he couldn't get away. Storm Boy used this as an opportunity to kick him in the arm before Rainbow Girl zapped him with an enervating ray and he crumpled to the deck himself.
Meanwhile, Weight Wizard frothily screamed at me to get off of him, getting spit all over my rugged, handsome face. As I roared back at him to calm down I was overcome by vertigo. My voice went strangely flat and buzzy, my arms lost all feeling, and the two of us suddenly shot up into the air. He deftly rolled my body off of his own. I slammed into the deck. I could see Weight Wizard moonwalk-bouncing off to God-knows-where. Rainbow Girl and Tusker rushed over to me. I could tell by the looks on their faces that it was bad. "It happened again, didn't it?" I buzzed.
And sure enough, it had. My body is now almost totally metal, except for a few fleshy parts inside my skull. Everything else is hollow. Since my hands are useless and I'm not about to put any art supplies in my mouth I had to ask Storm Boy to do a rendering of my current state. Yes, I know. Don't start with me.
I haven't seen it yet. Let's discover it together!
I'm pretty sure I have never adopted that pose in my entire freaking life. (Although you just know Storm Boy does, whenever he needs to hitch a ride or score a free pastry or whatever.) Ugh. Of course, I can't stand up at all now but if I could? I wouldn't do it like that. The picture also makes me look a bit too curvaceous and Art Nouveau for my tastes, but otherwise it's a fair likeness.
I don't know what will happen if (or when) the last of me disappears and the only thing left is this shell of steel. I might be like Plant Lad, frozen solid with my eyes wide open. I wonder... is his mind frozen, too? I know he gets stupider as his whole body slows down in preparation for dormancy, but maybe his brain never completely shuts off... maybe he sees everything and hears everything but it just takes him a long time to process it all. It's a mystery. There are nights when Rainbow Girl is at the wheel and everybody else is asleep, and I pace the deck by myself, looking up through the dome at Plant Lad, and he looks down at me with that glum, sleepy-eyed stare. (Which I sketched a while back. See?)
But you know what? I didn't get as far as I have by being a pessimist. I've rebounded from fates as bad... well, almost as bad as this. I refuse to worry about what's to come. And I've got a crew to take care of, so I'm going to focus on that. Okay, enough philosophical claptrap. Back to my narrative! *Portentiously intones* EPILOGUE!
Rainbow Girl helped me into sickbay. I had a heart-to-heart with Storm Boy (the poor sweet dope) where I explained in no uncertain terms that I Just Wasn't Into Him. I think he understands now. Tusker got a stern lecture about Minding His Own Freaking Business and I pointed out that if we weren't in such dire straits he'd be cooling his heels in the brig right now. Then Rainbow Girl and I sat down with some coffee (that sloshed down my throat into the bottom of my hollow feet) and we went through my big catalog of Commendation Medals and picked out an especially nice one for her. (She's also typing all of this for me, which is swell of her as I'm sure she'd rather be in bed.) [Too true! -- Rainbow Girl]
Weight Wizard isn't talking to me, or to anybody else. I know this is hard. It's usually me taking care of him. Maybe I've babied him too much, and that's why he's so stressed-out now. But I'm sure he'll come around. And anyway, with the raucous life I lead there very well might come a day where I have a permanent injury and I'll have to rely on him as my Primary Caregiver. So this is good practice for him. Once he gets over this initial bout of shock and denial, I'm sure he'll be fine. Because I'm an optimist, and I have faith in the little guy.
Everything will be fine.
You'll see.
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