Thorvald of Lym
A Little Sketchy
Sup ma homeyz Th0rv@1dUb3rR0XX0R hear wit hmy SEAUQAL 2 teh GR8EST FNAFIC EVARR!!!!1!
In the black emptiness, two lines of blue text suddenly appear:
A short while ago in a galaxy
you're all familiar with . . . .
They linger for a while, long enough that the average viewer can re-read them three, maybe four times.
Then they vanish.
Alright, this time I'm ready.
Usually the fanfare that blasts as they play the title card scares me three quarters of the way to a heart attack.
So this time, I'll mute the sound.
I can't believe I never thought of this earlier.
Hey wait, un-pause un-mutes?? That's not fOH SH
DAAAA
Dd-la-daaa
Dd-la-Da da da DA da da Da da da DA da da
Da da DA DAAAAA-
Do Do Do
-LAUGH WARS-
Episode I can't believe it's not recession:
REVENGE OF THE CRAPFICS
It is a dark time for the
Rebellion. Although the Doom
Sphere has been destroyed,
Imperial troops have abused
expansion rules to scatter the
Allied forces across the galaxy.
Evading the dreaded Imperial
Starfleet, a group of freedom
fighters led by Hermann Fegelein
has established a new secret
base on the remote ice world
of the SPORE Forum.
The evil lord Darth Lackarse,
obsessed with finding young
christos200, has dispatched
thousands of remote probes into
the far reaches of space . . . .
-Da da da DA!
Dd-la-da da da DA- da
DD-LA-DA dd-la-da DD-LA-DA dd-la-da
DD-LA-DA dd-la-da DD-LA-da-dladadla-da-dladadla-
da-dladadla-da-dladadla-da-dladadla-da-dladadla
DEE doo doo dee DEE doo doo dee
DEE doo doo dee DEE doo doo dee
Hey, hold up; what's this?
*Sshiiiii-thuk*
It's a note.
*krickleffftch*
"If you are reading this message, then my knock-off TARDIS worked and I am now in Bangladesh in the year 2136. A bit of a roundabout way to get those lozenges, but I was hacking like a seal and couldn't wait the week-end"
hmmnurfummhummhin
"I forgot to mention earlier that I borrowed your car last week for an errand and forgot to fill the tank before I got back?!"
Oh Jeez, and here my sister thought I was pranking her!
Ben... why didn't you tell me??
An Imperial Star Destructor floated through the mind-numbing emptiness of deep spwait, that's not quite true, I can see some planets or moons or something in the background. A dozen pod-like objects descended from the docking bay and blasted off in separate directions. One of the pods found its way to a bluish-white globe; a red flame streaked through the sky before the intruder slammed into the planet's icy surface, coughing up smoke and debris. As the dust cleared, a robot resembling something from Dr. Eggman rose from the crater; hovering over the ground, it set off across the inhospitable terrain.
Elsewhere, a figure raced across the icy floes on the back of an Arctic Llama. Mount and rider reached a halt as they crested a snowy dune. The figure pulled off his mask and goggles, gazing across the forbidding horizon. As he looked left, he saw something red streak through the sky and slam into a distant hill. He took a moment to survey the impact with his... hmm, how to describe it? It looks like a set of binoculars, but it only has one lens. Anyway, he brushed off the ice on his wristwatch and dialled in a radio channel.
"Star Ranger to Naziman," said christos200, "Fegelein old buddy do you read me??"
"I told you," Fegelein's voice crackled, "Our callsign is 'Echo'. I'm Echo 3, you're Echo 7."
"Whatever. I finished my circle, i dont pick up any life readings," he reported with clear annoyance.
"There isn't enough life on this ice cube to host a forum," joked the officer. "Sensors are placed; I'm heading back." In the distance, Chris could see another figure riding off toward the horizon.
"ok, I'll see you there. Theres a meteorite that hit the ground near here I want to check it out, it wont take long." As Chris took the reins, the llama suddenly grew agitated. "Steady!!" shouted Chris, grabbing its neck, "Steady girl! Whats the matter?? You smell somethig?"
Chris looked to his right and was greeted by a woolly face with a gaping mouth of sharp teeth. Long claws raked his back, pulling him off the llama before the creature seized it by its throat. Unconscious and bleeding ...er, that snow must've hit his face pretty hard... Chris was dragged away.
Some time later, Fegelein rode past two sentries and a laser turret guarding the icy maw of the subterranean Resistance base. It was carved out of the outcropping, and although it had a few artificial components to the superstructure most of the interior remained rock-hard snow, requiring personnel to remain bundled up even deep within. He brought the llama to a halt in the middle of the hangar, an aide immediately taking charge as he dismounted. He threw off his hood and pulled off his patrol cap as he strode through the hangar bay, technicians at work on the Allied strike fighters and surface speeders, to the Centurion Raptor, a modified private freighter that he frequently boasted to be the fastest ship in the galaxy. On top of the ship, welding a section of exposed circuitry, was Fegelein's first mate, a werewolf named Arkady. SPORE's frigid climate having triggered his winter coat, he was able to make do with slightly less overdress than the rest of the troops, but even he sported a light winter jacket.
"Arkady!" called the Obergruppenführer, repeating the address when he failed to respond.
The werewolf raised his welding mask as he turned to him. "About damn time," he shouted, "It's taken me two hours on this accursed section alone!"
"Alright," Fegelein raised his hands apologetically, "Don't lose your temper. I'll come right back to give you a hand."
"Two, if you can spare them," the first mate quipped before resuming repairs.
Having stored away his overcoat, Fegelein navigated to the cramped base communications room. He made a cursory inspection of the staff, who were analyzing radio signals or plotting co-ordinates on space charts. One of the analysts was C. Aubrey Farnsworth, Esquire, a tall and well-mannered gentleman originally under Chris's patronage but who now functioned as an aide to the Resistance in whatever capacity they needed. Fegelein didn't see from across the room the appraising look of Princess Kaiser, one of the key leaders of the Resistance. She was an Allied senator permanently exiled after the Empire inaugurated their short-lived superweapon on her home forum of Doctor Who. Her hair was braided in an eastern European style that tied a large bun to the back of her head. Like the other staff, she was dressed in a field outercoat. As Fegelein proceeded further into the room, she turned back to the computer console.
He reached the far corner of the comm room where a stern-faced man with a thick beard was adjusting a set of controls. Noticing the officer's approach, the man straightened up with the simple acknowledgement, "Fegelein."
"No sign of life out there, General," he reported. "The sensors are in place, so you'll know if anything comes around."
"Has Commander Christos reported in yet?"
"No, he's checking out a meteorite that hit near him."
The general, Stavros, turned back to the controls, picking up a headset and putting one speaker to his far ear as he resumed his calculations. "With all the meteorite activity in this system, it will be difficult to spot approaching ships."
"General, I'll be taking my leave," Fegelein began abruptly, "I can't stay any longer." Kaiser straightened up, looking over to the two men.
Stavros turned back to him, brow furrowed with regret. When that Nazi and his misfit companions showed up at their last secret base claiming to have broken the Princess out of the Empire's new battle station, the General had held doubts; but in the months since, any suspicions as to Fegelein's intentions had been dispelled. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said.
"The price on my head's higher than usual; if I don't pay off Dolfy his goons might show up at your door, too."
"The Führer's vendetta is not an easy thing to live with," he nodded. With a cordial smile, he extended his hand, which the other man shook. "You're a good fighter, Fegelein; I hate to lose you."
"Thank you, General."
Fegelein turned about, noticing Kaiser for the first time. She was once again facing her console, and with deliberate slowness turned her head towards him. Realizing the game, he sauntered over with equal deliberation.
"Well, Your Highness," he began with a faint grin, "I guess this is it."
"That's right," she said coolly.
Fegelein stood silent for a moment, then turned and walked quickly back into the corridors. Soon enough, Kaiser was trailing after him. "Fegelein!" she called, and he turned about.
"Yes, Your Highnessness?" he asked with mock innocence.
She drew level with him. In a quiet voice, she asked: "I thought you had decided to stay?"
"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into in Argentina changed my mind."
"Fegelein, we need you!"
The officer paused for a moment. "'We' need?"
"Yes!"
He contorted his face in mock confusion. "Well, what about you need?"
"I need?" she replied in genuine puzzlement. "I don't know what you're talking about," she sighed nonchalantly.
He made a 'tsk', flashing a crooked grin. "I'm sure you don't." He spun about and marched down the hall.
"And what precisely am I supposed to know?" she called after him, jogging to catch up.
"Come now," he explained matter-of-factly, "You want me to stay because you're attracted to me."
"Yes! You're a great help to us! You're a natural leader!"
"Noooo," he teased, bringing them to a halt. "Come on," he pointed to his mouth. The two backed up as an Allied soldier passed through, either oblivious or purposely keeping his head down. "A-a-ah?" he continued, leaning forward. "Come on..!" Another soldier slipped behind him, heading in the opposite direction.
"You're imagining things," scoffed the Princess.
"Am I?" he pressed, "Then why are you following me? Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?"
"I'd just as soon kiss a werewolf," she shot back, defiant.
"I can arrange that," he grinned, jabbing a thumb down the hall. "If you'll follow me..." Fegelein continued on. Kaiser stared angrily after him, then turned around to see a soldier heading into one of the side rooms. He raised his hands in surrender.
Elsewhere in the corridor, Farnsworth had retired from his analytical duties and was in conversation with his inseparable companion Jenkins, a short, stocky, but equally distinguished man who, for reasons known only to himself, communicated exclusively via slide whistle. "Don't try to blame me," quipped Farnsworth, "I didn't ask you to turn on the heater! I merely commented that it was freezing in the Princess's chamber!" Jenkins uttered a squawkish response. "But it's supposed to be freezing!" he retorted. "How we're going to dry off all those clothes I really don't know..."
The gentlemen entered into the hangar not far from the Raptor. Arkady and Fegelein were underneath, seemingly in the midst of an argument. "I tell you we're leaving"
"Da, no"
"The hydraulics weren't damaged"
"Da, no"
"So you pulled apart the struts"
"Da, if I could just"
"Excuse me, sir," Farnsworth called, shuffling forward.
"Put them back together right now!"
"Might I have a word with you, please?"
Sighing, Fegelein straightened up. "What's up?"
"Well, it's Princess Kaiser, sir. She's been trying to reach you on the communicator."
"I turned it off; she knows where to find me."
"Oh, well..." The gentleman retracted a bit, befuddled. "Princess Kaiser is wondering about Master Christos. He hasn't come back yet. She doesn't know where she is."
"I don't know where he is," he shrugged.
"Nobody knows where he is," Farnsworth stated matter-of-factly.
Fegelein frowned. "What do you mean, 'nobody knows'?"
"Well, you see"
But before he could finish, Fegelein broke away out into the hangar. "Deck officer? Deck officer!"
"Yessir?" a thirtysomething soldier called, jogging over.
"Do you know where Commander Christos is?"
"I haven't seen him... It's possible he came in through the south entrance."
"It's possible?" he parroted, "Why don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there."
"Yessir." The man gave a quick nod and headed off. Fegelein turned back to Farnsworth.
"Excuse me, sir; might I inquire as to what's going on?"
"The more the merrier," he replied, patting Farnsworth on the back before taking off.
The gentleman sighed before turning to his compatriot. "Come along, Jenkins, let's find Princess Kaiser. Between ourselves, I think Master Christos is in considerable danger."
Fegelein made his way to the llama pens just as the deck officer returned from the south entrance. "Sir, Commander Christos hasn't come in the south entrance. He might have forgotten to check in," he offered.
"Not unless he was hauling contraband," mused the Obergruppenführer, "And this planet's not exactly a trade hub. Are the speeders ready?"
"Uh, not yet, we're having some trouble adapting them to the cold."
"Then we'll have to go out on llamas," he stated, slipping past the personnel that had gathered around them.
"Sir, the temperature's dropping too rapidly!" the deck officer protested.
"That's right," said Fegelein, "And my colleague's out in it."
"I'll cover sector 12," called an assistant officer, "Have comm-control set screen alpha."
"Are we just making up terminology now?" shouted a soldier.
Fegelein found a sturdy-looking llama and swung up onto its back. "Your llama will freeze before you reach the first marker!" the deck officer protested.
"Then I'll see you in Hell!" He spurred the llama on with a "Hiya!"
A foggy dusk descended over the frigid hills. Somewhere in an icy cave, Chris was suspended upside-down, near the skeletal remains of what was presumably his captor's previous meal. A bestial holler woke him from his induced sleep. Taking stock of the situation, he reached up to free himself, only to find his feet were frozen into the ceiling. Exhausted, he fell back down, at which point he spied his plasma foil a little ways off. He jerked his head as he heard another howl from deep in the cave. He tried to reach his weapon, but it was a good three to four feet away. He balled his hands into fists, screwing his eyes shut in frustration. Then, suddenly, he had an idea: the Farce!
Trying to calm his young and presently anxious mind, he extended his hand again, this time reaching out with his sense of mise-en-scène, tapping into the latent comedy of the universe. Almost imperceptibly, the plasma foil began to move! But something else was moving further in the cave; something large and woolly. The foil lurched once, twice, then sprung from the snow and right into Chris' face. Too much Farce, he groaned, picking it up off the ground and igniting the blade. Swinging himself forward, he sliced at the ice binding his feet. Chris fell to the floor, picking himself up just as he registered a new presence. The creature's face was in shadow, but even beneath its fur he could see the exaggerated muscle definition, its arms extended toward him, with long, razor claws. He knew instantly that he was face-to-face with a Turk.
Panicking, Chris lashed out as the creature bore down on him, slicing off one of its arms. The creature roared in pain as Chris hastily made his retreat, climbing out into the howling wind of a SPORE evening. He ran as fast as he could through the ankle-deep snow, only to catch himself on a ledge and tumble down the slope. Hastily picking himself up, he trudged on across a featureless expanse of snow. Elsewhere, Fegelein paused for a moment, briefly raising his snow-caked goggles to peer across the forbidding landscape.
Back at the base, Jenkins stood at the mouth of the cave, slowly sweeping a device resembling a parabolic microphone from left to right. He made a series of short chirrups on his slide whistle. Farnsworth made his way over.
"You must come along now, Jenkins!" the taller man implored, "There's really nothing more we can do. And my limbs are freezing up!" Jenkins gave a trill in reply. "Don't say things like that!" exclaimed Farnsworth, turning in to the base, "Of course we'll see Master Christos again!" Jenkins blew a sombre note. "And he'll be quite alright! You'll see!" called Farnsworth. "He'll be quite alright," he muttered to himself with considerably less confidence.
Chris collapsed, panting. After a moment and with considerable effort, he rolled himself forward and onto his feet, stumbling through the snow as he tried to reaffix his scarf over his face. Giving up, he suddenly fell forward. Elsewhere, Fegelein entered out onto a vast expanse of flat land. He dismounted a drowsy-looking llama and stepped forward a few metres, brandishing a gadget with two long antennae, sweeping the area for anything that might register a biological signal.
Meanwhile in the base hangar, a squad lieutenant jogged over to his commanding officer. "Sir, all the patrols are in. Still no" The superior raised his hand, motioning to where Princess Kaiser was walking slow circles beneath a strike fighter. In a low voice, he continued: "Still no contact from Christos or Fegelein."
At that moment, Farnsworth and Jenkins arrived. "Princess Kaiser, Jenkins says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope"
The two soldiers joined them. "Your Highness," began the senior officer, "There's nothing more we can do tonight. The shield doors must be closed." Silently, the Princess nodded. "Close the doors."
"Yes, sir," replied the lieutenant. A little ways off, Arkady rested his forehead against a structural beam.
Jenkins made a little whistle. "Jenkins says the chances of survival are 725... to 1." There was a low hum as the heavy hangar doors began to slide shut. Kaiser looked on with the expression of someone witnessing the final stages of a public execution. When the doors slammed shut, Arkady tipped his head back with an anguished cry. For all Fegelein's reputation, he couldn't see how the Master of Antics would overcome this time.
"Actually," Farnsworth added in an attempt at conciliation, "Jenkins has been known to make mistakes..." He slowly backed away. "From time to time." With leaden feet, the Princess headed back to the base interior. "Oh dear, oh dear..." the gentleman muttered. Jenkins let out another low note. "Don't worry about Master Christos," said his colleague, putting a hand to his shoulder, "I'm sure he'll be alright. He's quite clever, you know! For a Greek." Arkady replaced his forehead against the beam, weeping softly.
Out in the field, Chris lay sprawled in the snow, a thin dusting overtop indicating he had been this way for some time. His thoughts of silent death were interrupted by an ethereal voice. "Chris," it called. Slowly, agonizingly, Chris lifted his head. "Chris!" repeated the voice. Ahead of him stood a translucent figure. Chris stared in disbelief at a bearded elder man clothed in a long brown robe.
"Ali-G???" Chris asked incredulously. Alec Guinness, his mentor in the Farce, had been cut down by Darth Lackarse during their adventure on the Doom Sphere; how could he have survived?
"You will go to the Deewhyoh System," Alec Guinness began, straight to the point.
"Deewhyoh System," Chris repeated.
"There you will learn from Thorvald, the Cheddar Master who instructed me."
"Ali-G!!!" Chris cried, reaching out as the vision began to fade, replaced by an oncoming Arctic Llama and its rider. Utterly spent, Chris collapsed.
"Chris!" called Fegelein, rushing over. "Chris?!" He rolled the unconscious boy onto his back. "Don't do this, Chris," he groaned, "C'mon, give me a sign here." He leaned in forward to check for a pulse. A sudden cry from the llama called his attention. With a strange gargling noise, it keeled over sideways, succumbed to the cold. Fegelein sighed, looking first to Chris, then back to the llama. Then he had an idea.
The officer dragged Chris over to the fallen mount. "Not much time," he muttered.
"Ali-G!!! Ali-G..." Chris moaned, semi-conscious. Fegelein retrieved Chris' plasma foil and engaged the blade. With a deft cut, he made an incision across the llama's belly, exposing its fatty insulation.
"Hang on, kid."
"Deewhyoh System... Deewhyoh..."
"This may smell bad, kid," Fegelein began as he manoeuvred the delirious boy into the protective warmth of the llama.
"Tho... Thorvald..."
"But it'll keep you warm, until I get the shelter up."
"Deewhyoh!"
"Ah!" he sighed, leaning against the corpse, "And I thought you were chatty..." he gasped for breath, "When you weren't drunk!" Slowly picking himself up, he retrieved his field tools and set to work building an igloo in the rapidly fading light.
z0MG WILL THEY SRUVIV TEH NITE???? FAV & SUSCRIBE 4 MOAR CHAPTURZ!!!! loves 2 u all!!!! XOXOXOXO
In the black emptiness, two lines of blue text suddenly appear:
A short while ago in a galaxy
you're all familiar with . . . .
They linger for a while, long enough that the average viewer can re-read them three, maybe four times.
Then they vanish.
Alright, this time I'm ready.
Usually the fanfare that blasts as they play the title card scares me three quarters of the way to a heart attack.
So this time, I'll mute the sound.
I can't believe I never thought of this earlier.
Hey wait, un-pause un-mutes?? That's not fOH SH
DAAAA
Dd-la-daaa
Dd-la-Da da da DA da da Da da da DA da da
Da da DA DAAAAA-
Do Do Do
-LAUGH WARS-
Episode I can't believe it's not recession:
REVENGE OF THE CRAPFICS
It is a dark time for the
Rebellion. Although the Doom
Sphere has been destroyed,
Imperial troops have abused
expansion rules to scatter the
Allied forces across the galaxy.
Evading the dreaded Imperial
Starfleet, a group of freedom
fighters led by Hermann Fegelein
has established a new secret
base on the remote ice world
of the SPORE Forum.
The evil lord Darth Lackarse,
obsessed with finding young
christos200, has dispatched
thousands of remote probes into
the far reaches of space . . . .
-Da da da DA!
Dd-la-da da da DA- da
DD-LA-DA dd-la-da DD-LA-DA dd-la-da
DD-LA-DA dd-la-da DD-LA-da-dladadla-da-dladadla-
da-dladadla-da-dladadla-da-dladadla-da-dladadla
DEE doo doo dee DEE doo doo dee
DEE doo doo dee DEE doo doo dee
Hey, hold up; what's this?
*Sshiiiii-thuk*
It's a note.
*krickleffftch*
"If you are reading this message, then my knock-off TARDIS worked and I am now in Bangladesh in the year 2136. A bit of a roundabout way to get those lozenges, but I was hacking like a seal and couldn't wait the week-end"
hmmnurfummhummhin
"I forgot to mention earlier that I borrowed your car last week for an errand and forgot to fill the tank before I got back?!"
Oh Jeez, and here my sister thought I was pranking her!
Ben... why didn't you tell me??
An Imperial Star Destructor floated through the mind-numbing emptiness of deep spwait, that's not quite true, I can see some planets or moons or something in the background. A dozen pod-like objects descended from the docking bay and blasted off in separate directions. One of the pods found its way to a bluish-white globe; a red flame streaked through the sky before the intruder slammed into the planet's icy surface, coughing up smoke and debris. As the dust cleared, a robot resembling something from Dr. Eggman rose from the crater; hovering over the ground, it set off across the inhospitable terrain.
Elsewhere, a figure raced across the icy floes on the back of an Arctic Llama. Mount and rider reached a halt as they crested a snowy dune. The figure pulled off his mask and goggles, gazing across the forbidding horizon. As he looked left, he saw something red streak through the sky and slam into a distant hill. He took a moment to survey the impact with his... hmm, how to describe it? It looks like a set of binoculars, but it only has one lens. Anyway, he brushed off the ice on his wristwatch and dialled in a radio channel.
"Star Ranger to Naziman," said christos200, "Fegelein old buddy do you read me??"
"I told you," Fegelein's voice crackled, "Our callsign is 'Echo'. I'm Echo 3, you're Echo 7."
"Whatever. I finished my circle, i dont pick up any life readings," he reported with clear annoyance.
"There isn't enough life on this ice cube to host a forum," joked the officer. "Sensors are placed; I'm heading back." In the distance, Chris could see another figure riding off toward the horizon.
"ok, I'll see you there. Theres a meteorite that hit the ground near here I want to check it out, it wont take long." As Chris took the reins, the llama suddenly grew agitated. "Steady!!" shouted Chris, grabbing its neck, "Steady girl! Whats the matter?? You smell somethig?"
Chris looked to his right and was greeted by a woolly face with a gaping mouth of sharp teeth. Long claws raked his back, pulling him off the llama before the creature seized it by its throat. Unconscious and bleeding ...er, that snow must've hit his face pretty hard... Chris was dragged away.
Some time later, Fegelein rode past two sentries and a laser turret guarding the icy maw of the subterranean Resistance base. It was carved out of the outcropping, and although it had a few artificial components to the superstructure most of the interior remained rock-hard snow, requiring personnel to remain bundled up even deep within. He brought the llama to a halt in the middle of the hangar, an aide immediately taking charge as he dismounted. He threw off his hood and pulled off his patrol cap as he strode through the hangar bay, technicians at work on the Allied strike fighters and surface speeders, to the Centurion Raptor, a modified private freighter that he frequently boasted to be the fastest ship in the galaxy. On top of the ship, welding a section of exposed circuitry, was Fegelein's first mate, a werewolf named Arkady. SPORE's frigid climate having triggered his winter coat, he was able to make do with slightly less overdress than the rest of the troops, but even he sported a light winter jacket.
"Arkady!" called the Obergruppenführer, repeating the address when he failed to respond.
The werewolf raised his welding mask as he turned to him. "About damn time," he shouted, "It's taken me two hours on this accursed section alone!"
"Alright," Fegelein raised his hands apologetically, "Don't lose your temper. I'll come right back to give you a hand."
"Two, if you can spare them," the first mate quipped before resuming repairs.
Having stored away his overcoat, Fegelein navigated to the cramped base communications room. He made a cursory inspection of the staff, who were analyzing radio signals or plotting co-ordinates on space charts. One of the analysts was C. Aubrey Farnsworth, Esquire, a tall and well-mannered gentleman originally under Chris's patronage but who now functioned as an aide to the Resistance in whatever capacity they needed. Fegelein didn't see from across the room the appraising look of Princess Kaiser, one of the key leaders of the Resistance. She was an Allied senator permanently exiled after the Empire inaugurated their short-lived superweapon on her home forum of Doctor Who. Her hair was braided in an eastern European style that tied a large bun to the back of her head. Like the other staff, she was dressed in a field outercoat. As Fegelein proceeded further into the room, she turned back to the computer console.
He reached the far corner of the comm room where a stern-faced man with a thick beard was adjusting a set of controls. Noticing the officer's approach, the man straightened up with the simple acknowledgement, "Fegelein."
"No sign of life out there, General," he reported. "The sensors are in place, so you'll know if anything comes around."
"Has Commander Christos reported in yet?"
"No, he's checking out a meteorite that hit near him."
The general, Stavros, turned back to the controls, picking up a headset and putting one speaker to his far ear as he resumed his calculations. "With all the meteorite activity in this system, it will be difficult to spot approaching ships."
"General, I'll be taking my leave," Fegelein began abruptly, "I can't stay any longer." Kaiser straightened up, looking over to the two men.
Stavros turned back to him, brow furrowed with regret. When that Nazi and his misfit companions showed up at their last secret base claiming to have broken the Princess out of the Empire's new battle station, the General had held doubts; but in the months since, any suspicions as to Fegelein's intentions had been dispelled. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said.
"The price on my head's higher than usual; if I don't pay off Dolfy his goons might show up at your door, too."
"The Führer's vendetta is not an easy thing to live with," he nodded. With a cordial smile, he extended his hand, which the other man shook. "You're a good fighter, Fegelein; I hate to lose you."
"Thank you, General."
Fegelein turned about, noticing Kaiser for the first time. She was once again facing her console, and with deliberate slowness turned her head towards him. Realizing the game, he sauntered over with equal deliberation.
"Well, Your Highness," he began with a faint grin, "I guess this is it."
"That's right," she said coolly.
Fegelein stood silent for a moment, then turned and walked quickly back into the corridors. Soon enough, Kaiser was trailing after him. "Fegelein!" she called, and he turned about.
"Yes, Your Highnessness?" he asked with mock innocence.
She drew level with him. In a quiet voice, she asked: "I thought you had decided to stay?"
"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into in Argentina changed my mind."
"Fegelein, we need you!"
The officer paused for a moment. "'We' need?"
"Yes!"
He contorted his face in mock confusion. "Well, what about you need?"
"I need?" she replied in genuine puzzlement. "I don't know what you're talking about," she sighed nonchalantly.
He made a 'tsk', flashing a crooked grin. "I'm sure you don't." He spun about and marched down the hall.
"And what precisely am I supposed to know?" she called after him, jogging to catch up.
"Come now," he explained matter-of-factly, "You want me to stay because you're attracted to me."
"Yes! You're a great help to us! You're a natural leader!"
"Noooo," he teased, bringing them to a halt. "Come on," he pointed to his mouth. The two backed up as an Allied soldier passed through, either oblivious or purposely keeping his head down. "A-a-ah?" he continued, leaning forward. "Come on..!" Another soldier slipped behind him, heading in the opposite direction.
"You're imagining things," scoffed the Princess.
"Am I?" he pressed, "Then why are you following me? Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?"
"I'd just as soon kiss a werewolf," she shot back, defiant.
"I can arrange that," he grinned, jabbing a thumb down the hall. "If you'll follow me..." Fegelein continued on. Kaiser stared angrily after him, then turned around to see a soldier heading into one of the side rooms. He raised his hands in surrender.
Elsewhere in the corridor, Farnsworth had retired from his analytical duties and was in conversation with his inseparable companion Jenkins, a short, stocky, but equally distinguished man who, for reasons known only to himself, communicated exclusively via slide whistle. "Don't try to blame me," quipped Farnsworth, "I didn't ask you to turn on the heater! I merely commented that it was freezing in the Princess's chamber!" Jenkins uttered a squawkish response. "But it's supposed to be freezing!" he retorted. "How we're going to dry off all those clothes I really don't know..."
The gentlemen entered into the hangar not far from the Raptor. Arkady and Fegelein were underneath, seemingly in the midst of an argument. "I tell you we're leaving"
"Da, no"
"The hydraulics weren't damaged"
"Da, no"
"So you pulled apart the struts"
"Da, if I could just"
"Excuse me, sir," Farnsworth called, shuffling forward.
"Put them back together right now!"
"Might I have a word with you, please?"
Sighing, Fegelein straightened up. "What's up?"
"Well, it's Princess Kaiser, sir. She's been trying to reach you on the communicator."
"I turned it off; she knows where to find me."
"Oh, well..." The gentleman retracted a bit, befuddled. "Princess Kaiser is wondering about Master Christos. He hasn't come back yet. She doesn't know where she is."
"I don't know where he is," he shrugged.
"Nobody knows where he is," Farnsworth stated matter-of-factly.
Fegelein frowned. "What do you mean, 'nobody knows'?"
"Well, you see"
But before he could finish, Fegelein broke away out into the hangar. "Deck officer? Deck officer!"
"Yessir?" a thirtysomething soldier called, jogging over.
"Do you know where Commander Christos is?"
"I haven't seen him... It's possible he came in through the south entrance."
"It's possible?" he parroted, "Why don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there."
"Yessir." The man gave a quick nod and headed off. Fegelein turned back to Farnsworth.
"Excuse me, sir; might I inquire as to what's going on?"
"The more the merrier," he replied, patting Farnsworth on the back before taking off.
The gentleman sighed before turning to his compatriot. "Come along, Jenkins, let's find Princess Kaiser. Between ourselves, I think Master Christos is in considerable danger."
Fegelein made his way to the llama pens just as the deck officer returned from the south entrance. "Sir, Commander Christos hasn't come in the south entrance. He might have forgotten to check in," he offered.
"Not unless he was hauling contraband," mused the Obergruppenführer, "And this planet's not exactly a trade hub. Are the speeders ready?"
"Uh, not yet, we're having some trouble adapting them to the cold."
"Then we'll have to go out on llamas," he stated, slipping past the personnel that had gathered around them.
"Sir, the temperature's dropping too rapidly!" the deck officer protested.
"That's right," said Fegelein, "And my colleague's out in it."
"I'll cover sector 12," called an assistant officer, "Have comm-control set screen alpha."
"Are we just making up terminology now?" shouted a soldier.
Fegelein found a sturdy-looking llama and swung up onto its back. "Your llama will freeze before you reach the first marker!" the deck officer protested.
"Then I'll see you in Hell!" He spurred the llama on with a "Hiya!"
A foggy dusk descended over the frigid hills. Somewhere in an icy cave, Chris was suspended upside-down, near the skeletal remains of what was presumably his captor's previous meal. A bestial holler woke him from his induced sleep. Taking stock of the situation, he reached up to free himself, only to find his feet were frozen into the ceiling. Exhausted, he fell back down, at which point he spied his plasma foil a little ways off. He jerked his head as he heard another howl from deep in the cave. He tried to reach his weapon, but it was a good three to four feet away. He balled his hands into fists, screwing his eyes shut in frustration. Then, suddenly, he had an idea: the Farce!
Trying to calm his young and presently anxious mind, he extended his hand again, this time reaching out with his sense of mise-en-scène, tapping into the latent comedy of the universe. Almost imperceptibly, the plasma foil began to move! But something else was moving further in the cave; something large and woolly. The foil lurched once, twice, then sprung from the snow and right into Chris' face. Too much Farce, he groaned, picking it up off the ground and igniting the blade. Swinging himself forward, he sliced at the ice binding his feet. Chris fell to the floor, picking himself up just as he registered a new presence. The creature's face was in shadow, but even beneath its fur he could see the exaggerated muscle definition, its arms extended toward him, with long, razor claws. He knew instantly that he was face-to-face with a Turk.
Panicking, Chris lashed out as the creature bore down on him, slicing off one of its arms. The creature roared in pain as Chris hastily made his retreat, climbing out into the howling wind of a SPORE evening. He ran as fast as he could through the ankle-deep snow, only to catch himself on a ledge and tumble down the slope. Hastily picking himself up, he trudged on across a featureless expanse of snow. Elsewhere, Fegelein paused for a moment, briefly raising his snow-caked goggles to peer across the forbidding landscape.
Back at the base, Jenkins stood at the mouth of the cave, slowly sweeping a device resembling a parabolic microphone from left to right. He made a series of short chirrups on his slide whistle. Farnsworth made his way over.
"You must come along now, Jenkins!" the taller man implored, "There's really nothing more we can do. And my limbs are freezing up!" Jenkins gave a trill in reply. "Don't say things like that!" exclaimed Farnsworth, turning in to the base, "Of course we'll see Master Christos again!" Jenkins blew a sombre note. "And he'll be quite alright! You'll see!" called Farnsworth. "He'll be quite alright," he muttered to himself with considerably less confidence.
Chris collapsed, panting. After a moment and with considerable effort, he rolled himself forward and onto his feet, stumbling through the snow as he tried to reaffix his scarf over his face. Giving up, he suddenly fell forward. Elsewhere, Fegelein entered out onto a vast expanse of flat land. He dismounted a drowsy-looking llama and stepped forward a few metres, brandishing a gadget with two long antennae, sweeping the area for anything that might register a biological signal.
Meanwhile in the base hangar, a squad lieutenant jogged over to his commanding officer. "Sir, all the patrols are in. Still no" The superior raised his hand, motioning to where Princess Kaiser was walking slow circles beneath a strike fighter. In a low voice, he continued: "Still no contact from Christos or Fegelein."
At that moment, Farnsworth and Jenkins arrived. "Princess Kaiser, Jenkins says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope"
The two soldiers joined them. "Your Highness," began the senior officer, "There's nothing more we can do tonight. The shield doors must be closed." Silently, the Princess nodded. "Close the doors."
"Yes, sir," replied the lieutenant. A little ways off, Arkady rested his forehead against a structural beam.
Jenkins made a little whistle. "Jenkins says the chances of survival are 725... to 1." There was a low hum as the heavy hangar doors began to slide shut. Kaiser looked on with the expression of someone witnessing the final stages of a public execution. When the doors slammed shut, Arkady tipped his head back with an anguished cry. For all Fegelein's reputation, he couldn't see how the Master of Antics would overcome this time.
"Actually," Farnsworth added in an attempt at conciliation, "Jenkins has been known to make mistakes..." He slowly backed away. "From time to time." With leaden feet, the Princess headed back to the base interior. "Oh dear, oh dear..." the gentleman muttered. Jenkins let out another low note. "Don't worry about Master Christos," said his colleague, putting a hand to his shoulder, "I'm sure he'll be alright. He's quite clever, you know! For a Greek." Arkady replaced his forehead against the beam, weeping softly.
Out in the field, Chris lay sprawled in the snow, a thin dusting overtop indicating he had been this way for some time. His thoughts of silent death were interrupted by an ethereal voice. "Chris," it called. Slowly, agonizingly, Chris lifted his head. "Chris!" repeated the voice. Ahead of him stood a translucent figure. Chris stared in disbelief at a bearded elder man clothed in a long brown robe.
"Ali-G???" Chris asked incredulously. Alec Guinness, his mentor in the Farce, had been cut down by Darth Lackarse during their adventure on the Doom Sphere; how could he have survived?
"You will go to the Deewhyoh System," Alec Guinness began, straight to the point.
"Deewhyoh System," Chris repeated.
"There you will learn from Thorvald, the Cheddar Master who instructed me."
"Ali-G!!!" Chris cried, reaching out as the vision began to fade, replaced by an oncoming Arctic Llama and its rider. Utterly spent, Chris collapsed.
"Chris!" called Fegelein, rushing over. "Chris?!" He rolled the unconscious boy onto his back. "Don't do this, Chris," he groaned, "C'mon, give me a sign here." He leaned in forward to check for a pulse. A sudden cry from the llama called his attention. With a strange gargling noise, it keeled over sideways, succumbed to the cold. Fegelein sighed, looking first to Chris, then back to the llama. Then he had an idea.
The officer dragged Chris over to the fallen mount. "Not much time," he muttered.
"Ali-G!!! Ali-G..." Chris moaned, semi-conscious. Fegelein retrieved Chris' plasma foil and engaged the blade. With a deft cut, he made an incision across the llama's belly, exposing its fatty insulation.
"Hang on, kid."
"Deewhyoh System... Deewhyoh..."
"This may smell bad, kid," Fegelein began as he manoeuvred the delirious boy into the protective warmth of the llama.
"Tho... Thorvald..."
"But it'll keep you warm, until I get the shelter up."
"Deewhyoh!"
"Ah!" he sighed, leaning against the corpse, "And I thought you were chatty..." he gasped for breath, "When you weren't drunk!" Slowly picking himself up, he retrieved his field tools and set to work building an igloo in the rapidly fading light.
z0MG WILL THEY SRUVIV TEH NITE???? FAV & SUSCRIBE 4 MOAR CHAPTURZ!!!! loves 2 u all!!!! XOXOXOXO
