A very strange tale, an organic rambling of events as they relate to moony and carol while hurtling through space. A reader sensed it was fiction, well spotted. This post is the story so far, each new chapter will be added here. It may be somewhat adult in nature …

they were smiling back at us

three smiles beamed back. one was strained and unsettling, the other two seemed genuine. the only trouble with landing here on-top of this tribe from a long lost time on a very strange planet, was the risk of altering the time space continuum. this drama perpetuated by the common science fiction idiom, is not to upset the timeline, the future or past while applying the star trek mantra – the prime directive, not to interfere with the natural progress of a race, planet or tribe, as it is in this case.

moony didn’t know the first thing about this science fiction storyline, he was just the pilot of the atmosphere cruiser and had the shift forced upon him by the captain of the shit-house research station he was assigned to. captain robert walker was a true wanker, a master puppet of the stringless kind that followed the company’s guidelines to the letter. that in itself was not the problem though, he really was a wanker, a professional. he wouldn’t stop, he seemed to be running off to get off, on the hour every hour. this morning’s embarrassing re-assignment of duty was due to the fact that robert had locked himself in the head and couldn’t get out to fly this damn trip, as he was rostered to.

moony had the craft settled, turned down the air shots and the ramp door open in readiness for the troop of science boffins to disembark. he was all set to give the all clear when an as yet unseen tribe member, lobed an large angry spear at his cockpit window. the bloody thing left a huge smear of goopie slop on the screen, but did not damage anything at all. it bounced clear off the screen and fell to the ground with a thud. the three smilers seemed to be oblivious to this surprise attack from the front.

in accordance with procedure, the go ahead to disembark was delayed as moony shot the spear thrower with a stun blast and blew him right off his legs and down the steep hill he had popped up from. this did not look very good from the perspective of the smilers. the noise had drawn their smiling dials around in time to see their chief being blasted over the hill. these frightening aliens had shot their chief. they did not know that he had lobed the spear at the craft, but that didn’t matter now.

things had changed for the worse.

the boffins had nearly shit themselves when the stun blast had gone off, the noise it made was half the deal of it’s use. frighten the air out of the target and those unfortunates around it, either friend or foe, it didn’t mater. it was to frighten as well as stun. after the head scientist gathered her senses, she asked what the hell was going on, why did you set off the stun blast ? and as moony and the chief were the only ones who knew the reason for the attack, his explanation to the recovering white coats took some 3 minutes.

these three minutes were all it took for the remainder of the tribe to respond in justified anger. their chief was scrambling back up the hill, screaming and waving his three arms at his subjects who had started to bash the living crap out of this strange metal thing. their smiles had gone. moony thought that the remainder of the tribe at first count, would have been close to a thousand. all of them had three arms, two legs, a face on two sides of what could be described as a head, but it had four points, which then had those faces on each side. a bit like a square box or tv for a head.

the procedure for when one is under attack is to first secure, assess the risk and then depending on that outcome, leave quick smart and/or blow the molecules out of what ever is attacking you. moony and the head boffin thought that departure option would be the better option.

the engines were still running and the air shots primed for take off when moony realised that a large number of these little buggers had climbed on the cruiser and had started to smash the guidance beacon. no time for guidance, bang he was off. the smashers fell off the craft like mercury running over a table top and fell from an ever increasing height as the craft gained altitude. the white coats had no time to fasten themselves into their seats and were scrambling about the floor and the open ramp door. one fell out and that loss of the droid science crew member would take some paper work, something moony hated with a vengeance. not as much as he hated captain wanker for putting him in this situation.

it was decided when the crew returned to the station that landing on-top of uncharted, unknown, three armed natives would have to be managed a bit better in the future. the only good thing about the trip was discovering that the natural population was only one foot tall. easy enough you’d think, no matter how many arms or faces they had. they could be overcome. but as far as robert the wanker, nothing could overcome him.

everyone sweated on the new roster announcement …..

moony must enter contest here

moony was locked into a shift of brain numbingly boring blogging. it was his turn to shine again and after losing the droid science guy he was penalised by being forced to stay in his humi-crib. this crib was far from humid it was bloody freezing, you could hang meat in there. he had so many jumpers on he could pass himself off as twice the man. gloves were a bit difficult though, he only had two fingers ( one each hand ) and two thumbs, but that’s all he needed to fly and type.

little did the dickhead wanker robert know ( or anyone else for that matter ) that he was responsible for writing the inane nonsense that was the universally known tbaoo.com. the original tbaoo guy alan had started the blog in 2010, some 120 years ago and the principle idea of this silly thing had taken off like wildfire, a bit like halley’s comet when it crashed spectacularly into mars.

no-one was safe, not from the monster that tbaoo had become, not even moony and he had been passed the baton of running and writing for the thing. it was a bit like that very ancient idea of the “ghost who walks” – the phantom, now it was the “odd knob who blogs” i.e tbaoo.com.

the recent forced take off and short drama that was the initial meeting with the “lumpers” had been smoothed over by robert offering them shirts. the shirts it turned out, had a spiritual meaning to the lumpers, no-one knew why or how, but they had a long hut full of hawaiian shirts, all colours, sizes and patterns and all hanging on fluffy hangers. they were all far too big for them of course but that didn’t seem to matter. i mean the one foot tall lumpers had no need for real shirts, they were all topless.

moony could not really care of course as he had a competition to enter. a blogging community site that had also grown from a humble beginnings, was now larger than all the small tin pot governments left on earth, and they wanted something from him. this blog engage had engaged the whole freak’n world by promoting the promoting of blogs to become an addictive, financially rewarding and sexually satisfying pursuit. tbaoo.com fitted in somehow into the selection criteria and he did just that. he read what was required, typed away like a mad moony and then submitted his piece.

he sat back wondering how this shit he keeps producing could possibly win anything other than the 4 millions hits a day and the enormous credit check he got from the search engine that replaced google’s dominance – splodger. the war was deadly.

so, pleased with himself, he decided to download the entertainment package his great great grandfather had sent him, ( he was still in good health thanks to the transplants ) it was a greatest – greatest hits from the naughties, and his favourite track was “drop it like it’s hot”, from snoop doggy dog. what a lovely melody and a sing along chorus. they don’t make music like that anymore, the old crooners really are the best.

shizzle my nizzle - it would be come very prophetic, but moony didn’t know what that meant, neither prophetic or shizzle my nizzle !!

the company owns everything

life on the research station was returning to normal. life is a strange word considering that only three personnel where alive. the rest were droids and the fixed auto bot things that kept the place running, moony hated being trapped with the three. robert the wanker, the head scientist carol and moony.

moony wasn’t attracted to robert in any way, but he really had the hots for carol, sure the droid pleasure girls were good, but carol had that certain illusive, out of reach response that drove moony mad. a certain something the droids could not replicate, a real response.

so mad in fact he worried as to whether he would endanger his tenure here at the research station. indeed, whomever decided it should be called “the science palace in the stars” should be blasted. t.s.p.s was so bloom’n hard to say and as robert could add having a very pronounced lisp to his afflictions, it was excruciating listening to him broadcast his daily reports. the console was waterproof, but shit it took a pounding of spit. whereas carol would as well if moony had his way, spit and a pounding all over the place and often.

so moony decided that the best way to pass away the days and nights of his 72 hour shift was to dream, not like the classic “dream of electric sheep”, but dream of the real carol. she was a voluptuous bouncy female creature with an ample bosom, a sweet backside in the tight light grey overall uniform they were all forced to wear and she had a smile that tricked moony into thinking she really fancied him back. this return of affection was purely in moony’s mind, as carol had not shown any such interest.

the name the lumpers, as the three had colluded to call the native peoples, came from that classic film with johnny depp, “charlie and the chocolate factory”, the umper lumpers. this enormous copyright infringement didn’t matter of course, because all ownership of any and all creative endeavors had been purchased by the company. no-one owned anything anymore, not even listed shares in the company or any other company, they bought them all back. it could be described as bought, but really they decreed that they were worth nothing, banned any and all ownership and swiftly removed all value of such a superfluous notion. the company was called “mumblet”.

now mumblet had been set up to manage the finances of the smaller company apple, way back in 2020. no-one could have foreseen that the company could become so successful and buy every other bloody company in the world and then take over what was left of the piddling little governments who were scrambling for some attention. mumblet had control, had no conscience and was omnipresent. you worked for mumblet, you played for mumblet and if you were moony, you bred for mumblet. his success at breeding was less than satisfactory, but maybe carol could change all that.

moony wondered out loud to the auto bot thing, as if it were listening, could he change his manly ( human ) approach, methods and less than satisfactory conclusion.

so how much does a baby cost

mumblet is the name of the company and it gets it’s name from the founders dog. he couldn’t think of anything better and as many a soul crushed by the omnipresent gigantic’ist company can attest to, it doesn’t stand for anything other than scary frightening stuff. stand in it’s way and your either killed, sacked, demoted, erased entirely or indeed your family is. if you succeed within mumblet you are one of the richest group of sycophants in the universe. of course mumblet own most if it so far and are reaching out to own more, hence “the science palace in the stars” station squabbling about the place, exuding eternal interfering and spoiling the blazes out of every place it finds.

the lumpers were just the latest in a long line of troubled residents that were squashed by the globule of arrogance promoted by mumblet. moony didn’t care, he was trying to figure out how to join the upper echelon of the firm and how much it might cost him to get there. the secret it seemed was to stand out from the pack, carry out super human acts of company loyalty while putting up with an amazing amount of crap from those who should know more. although the most important thing is to pay, pay a fortune, a lifetime’s fortune.

well this was all going along swimmingly, except for the fortune part, moony only had 7 millions dollars and that was nowhere near enough. he’d need about 48 million. this amount of money would take some extra special craftiness and of course moony thought he had such a quality. his main distraction, carol, could help him if he managed to cajole her into sleeping with him.

the going price for live and healthy “off earth newborns” ( oens ) was running at 75 million dollars each at the moment and moony knew of a couple living on the mumblet hq planet “horence” who’d pay for such a baby. of course all this depended on carol allowing the sexual gratification moony was hungry for and then agreeing to the result to be placed in the gestation machine in the science palace in the stars. the gestation machine was happy to let moony in for free as this machine owed moony a favour. moony was horrified every time he thought of the reason, but kept it very close to his chest. pity the act between him and the machine were nowhere near his chest. it turned out that the designer of the gestation machines programmed a dreadfully perverse gratification need within them, the series that moony involved himself with was particularly nasty, fun but nasty.

moony only had to chat with carol, but it seemed very quiet on the station today. no sign of carol or robert the wanker. both had disappeared out of sight and radar range.

it smells like it must be

carol sat in the sealed loading dock with the version of robert and wondered how it had got this far. this mentally crippled and twisted bugger had decided to force his way upon carol in a most devilish manner. robert it turns out wasn’t pleasuring himself on the hour ( well not all the time ) he was creating a clone of himself, but the weird bugger had tried to make the clone a perfect copy of himself in every way, except it looked like moony.

this alter moony, the robert version, had snuck up on carol, expressed his undying lust and love for carol and squeezed them both into the loading dock. carol was overcome with passion, respect and excitement at the alter moony’s advances. of course she thought this was the real one and that he had finally gained some courage and announced his intentions. when she discovered that this amorous animal wasn’t actually moony, she freaked !!

before realising that there was something afoot, carol had looked around registering her rather odd predicament. the oil, gas, rubbish and water strewn about the floors and walls did not a love nest make, but hey, she thought it had a certain rough quality. being a fastidious, obsessive scientistic type, it might be good to slop about in some filth, especially with moony. moony seemed a little off  and there was a vomit inducing stench in this dock that a brown dog couldn’t have jumped over, but it was only when moony kissed her that the real cause of the shit smell was smacked good and proper around carol’s chops.

this alter moony had another problem, it was so overly excited it had a sudden conclusion of it’s own. concluding before you even touch the love of your life, is not indicative of an experienced lover, or a real person for that matter. carol hadn’t realised that the alter moony had soiled itself in the front of his bum, she just thought he had shivered due to the cold. as it turned out carol was a frenzied loving machine for about one second into the first kiss and cuddle. she then went all weird, screamed and while spitting out spit like a garden sprinkler, she ran furiously from the scene. as fast as her gorgeous legs could carry her but she could’nt get far.

the freaky thing about the clone was the combination of the voice and the horrendous breath it spewed forth into carol’s receptive face. it sounded and smelt, like shit. it turned out during the investigation ( held much later ) that robert had got the digestive system the wrong way round and the alter moony had a anus for a mouth and a mouth where the anus would normally be. a slight error you might think, but one that had major ramifications, especially on carol.

aside from that genetic bumbling, the real robert’s halitosis was legendary in mumblet, in fact that’s why he was sent out, as far a way as possible from the company hq planet – horence. upper management had fielded thousands of close proximity alarms and found the best way to remove the chance of receiving more alarms was to remove robert. that other annoying buffoon moony could be removed in the same way.

moony didn’t really have any idea of this, he thought he was being rewarded in being rostered on the science palace in the stars and was merrily sliding up the slippery pole of promotion. only mumblet really knew what when on around the place and they didn’t tell anyone. it was against company policy.

he wanted to tell ( and show ) carol how he felt and ask her to help him raise the money he needed, by selling the live and healthy “off earth newborn”, their very own oen. what moony didn’t know was that carol was currently trapped, screaming, spitting profusely and very angry in the shitty loading dock. had he known earlier he would have killed robert and the alter moony, but that would be something he’d learn about after answering this distress call, the call from carol’s mother, addressed to captain asquith moony and identified as personal.

a muddled message for moony

the message was from trevor nubleous. he was the funny little half man, half dog creature that ran the mumblet science department. in fact not only did he run it, he designed it and was the overlord of nearly everything mumblet did. the reason for his peculiar body and mannerisms was that the company creator not only named the company after his dog, he continued with the theme in creating loyal employees.

making new life forms was already popular way back in 2045, when the company founder took over varying left field science achievements, he banned some, restricted a few and over developed others. half man half fish were popular for a while, as they really kept the pools clean and the 1/4 man, cow, fly and platypus were really popular in major motion pictures for about 10 years. they were just so fucking weird they transfixed the audience as they wobbled, flew, flapped and mooed their way about the silly stories the company wrote for them. really famous titles such as “moo’ving on”, “why do i lay eggs” and “the fly” parts 4 – 173.

the half man half dog, trevor nubleous has a message for moony and it didn’t seem to make any sense. the reception was fine, the id protocol perfect, but the intent freaked moony out pretty bad. he had to watch it three times, funnily it seemed to change each time ?

the message basically presented these main points, after it waffled on for 20 minutes about the merits of a good deodorant called “i used to smell like shit” and the use of a super strength mouthwash unfortunately labeled “no more bomb breath”.

attention captain moony ( yes you are now a captain ), you are to do the following.

  • collect all of the indigenous population from the face of the planet.
  • place them in the dna adjustment machine and select the long term storage mode.
  • set coordinates for “trumular 7”
  • capture the previous captain – robert walker and place him in the stretching chamber.
  • have sex with any of the fertile female crew, our records show there is one left, designated as carol.
  • place the resulting “instant oen” into the storage tube and set for maturation.
  • note – under no circumstances are you to use the gestation machine.
  • shave that ridiculous facial hair and have a haircut.
  • clean your cabin and remove all personal possessions.
  • be standing by and ready for further details which will be sent at 22.00 hours.

the science palace in the stars was a very dank, sweaty and smelly place in the main, but some areas, like those allocated to the humans were remarkably clean. so clean it was harmful to the eyes, sparkling, smooth, smelt like a fruity hair shampoo with all the flashing lights the company thought were necessary for a space ship thingy. the more interesting parts were those hidden and out the way of those so called human bits. there you found a rusty, cold damp ooze that pervaded through the flesh like a really strong smell. the flooring was that open mesh style made of scrap metal in honour of the sci-fi films of the 20th century. it also made sense to cut down on weight and materials. the only trouble was that it was damn difficult to walk on in high heels, like the ones that robert used to wander about in.

as you teetered down the corridors, you came across the rather odd eyes. these eyes were the openings to which the ships computer adjusted those things that needed adjusting. the eyes were everywhere, they watched, heard and dealt with anything that wandered about, human or machine. in addition to the eyes, each wall along these access corridors exuded an odour, not dissimilar to a footballer’s change room, or to be more precise, the laundry basket of such a place that had been missed for a few weeks.

it was also a life threatening event if you ever got lost in these corridors. the computer regularly checked for unwanted things and if it somehow thought it didn’t want you, which happened far too often, it would eject you from the palace. it happened to moony once, but he was able to argue his right of presence and managed to convince the computer that he should remain. the rather crapulous lighting and connected wiring in these out of human areas was also a dangerous concern. the wiring was alive and it was always on a search for new materials. if you slowed down too much or in the name of the company stopped, it would have you. not in a nice way either, it would rip you apart and absorb what bits it had just created. nasty stuff and the remaining three humans did not wish to die that way, so they kept moving about, at an alarmingly pace.

trevor nubleous had designed the palace with scrupulous attention to detail and all of the nasty side of things were deliberate, he had a secret to hide and the unpleasant nature of the non human parts were designed to keep the nosey buggers away. if they slowed down they might learn a little something, so that’s why the wiring was created to rip them a new one and then absorb the evidence.

moony did as he was told, but when he calmed down he wondered where carol and robert had got to.

moony learns the bass guitar

carol sat in the dark and wondered whether she’s escaped the eyes and that terribly violent and live wiring that had attacked her. the wiring caught the faux moony, ( i.e the clone of robert that looked like moony ) in such a way that it really swept carol up in to a whirlwind of wonder and awe. it also pushed her three corridor sections away during the frenzied attack on the clone. that saved her life.

the long tentacles of death had grabbed the clone and searched for the mouth. as the clone construction had inadvertently switched the mouth and anus about, the wiring paused for a second at the head and while not knowing what was confronting it, continued on it’s preprogrammed search for the mouth. it thought that the best and easiest was to simply force it’s way down through the opening in the head and find the mouth that way. unfortunately for the clone, and for carol as she watched this evisceration, it searched for the mouth by engorging it’s way down it’s digestive tract, entering the topside heading for the backside. this messy process only got worse when it found the mouth and realised that it had gone the wrong way so it returned back from whence it came and made the whole hole that much wider. the sadly confused wiring had carried out this u turn about 5 times before the clone could withstand no more, in fact not only couldn’t it stand, it had become a pool of the goopy resin that makes up the clone flesh and a pile of the electronics that the wiring had no use for. a shinny pile of unwanted life in a metallic form.

carol had to figure out what to do. she had to run, hide, give up or fight. as it turned out moony offered the answer and a way out. the public address system was remarkable on the space palace, it had a targeted audience feature that would automatically locate the intended recipient and broadcast the message there. it didn’t matter which or who, it changed it’s system to meet the need. carol’s good fortune was that moony had sent out a broadcast and as the local wiring had made such a meal of the clone, it was a mess. the ships automatic eye system in trying to carry out it’s normal duties suddenly determined that the messy wiring, the flesh resin and the spare electrics wriggling in a thriving mess on the floor was unwanted and it simply targeted it, sent it to the disposal section and ejected the whole bloody thing out into the black. carol was suddenly free to explain her presence and when the eyes had it, she answered moony call.

what the fuck is going on moony ?

well there you are – where’s robert ?

carol had now idea as to robert’s location, she didn’t want to know and simply didn’t care.

please come to the main control carol, we’ve a message from mumblet and i have some very sexy news.

of course carol wasn’t feeling particularly sexy, in fact that would be the last thing she was feeling just now. she was covered in a slime, a visual image and a smell that would take many years to wash off. she wondered whether she could ever feel sexy again.

moony had sent out his broadcast for both carol and robert and sat waiting like a young man being taken to a pleasure module for the first time. not for robert’s response of course but for carol, he was ordered to breed, have sex, dance the horizontal folk dance, rub ugly bits and just plain old fornicate with the lady of all ladies – carol. gee it was going to be fun, but after so long it might not be fun for that long.

again he say’s to himself, again with the lack of performance line, he should be more confident and less smutty and find a clean uniform to put on, so that when it comes off, it won’t set off the hygiene alarms.

one of the annoying, yet somewhat exciting features in inheriting the title of the “odd knob who blogs” was that moony had to learn the bass guitar. this quaint term described an ancient musical instrument from earth that had a number of strings stretched over a section of wood called a neck, that fit snugly into a larger piece with knobs in it, labeled a body. his was black and had four strings and one neck, but nowadays bass guitars had eighteen strings and three necks. in 2030 a new musical theory was invented or stolen as the scandal exposed, into requiring more strings and necks, the number of keys on a piano and the on-off and open-closed paddles on the weird range of brass instruments. the piano became the instrument of the obscenely wealthy, as no one had the space to house a piano. a planet had been re-occupied by mumblet to build these creakingly big boxes with so many keys and strings.

moony had never even listened to music prior to becoming the knob, he’d thought it a waste of time, even though time was able to be manipulated, he found no time to assign time to the flippant joy of music. now though, he couldn’t get enough. tbaoo had a long tradition of posting classic videos of the musical kind. in learning the bass, he thought, this choice of music may develop into new territory. he might even make some of his own.

the best thing he’d done was to start at the beginning, this old video was so much at the beginning he wondered if he’d still be alive at the end, he started and the start started with an “e”, an open “e” at that.

now where’s that wanker robert, carol’s on here way and i don’t want to be interrupted by robert when and if he gets here. moony chatted to himself a lot these days. now in 4/4 time.

http://youtu.be/w7XDgihZRo4 was where he found the video and he watched it over and over again, he actually wondered what a belt buckle was.

must be important but what does it mean

it was 2145 and moony sat there staring at the communications module. it sat there as well although it didn’t know any different, it didn’t have any legs of wheels with which to move it’s self about. so if it could be described so, it just sat there. having moony staring at it didn’t really bother it either as all of the beings in all of the places, happened to stare at it and it’s cousins.

moony was waiting for 22.00 hours and the follow up broadcast from trevor nubleous. the dog part of him really spooked moony, he’d had a dog as a child and it looked so much like trevor it was freaky. had moony known that his dog actually was an ancestor of trevor’s he’d be even more freaked out.

the intercom system blasted out !!

moony you dip shit, what’s going on ?

carol was sounding just a little pissed, not drunk as some used to say, but angry as the older generation americans used to drawl. she had good reason but moony had yet to hear just what that reason was.

we’ve had a message broadcast and we’ve loads of things to do – we have to wait another fifteen minutes for another, can you please get up here to the funnel.

many years ago they used to call this area the bridge, but mumblet decided that funnel suited its design mantra a bit better. the funnel was cylindrical, incredibly huge, white with splashes of light blue and was covered with that much equipment, they all fought for space. the end result was the human inhabitants only had enough space to sit, and the walkway wide enough to get to this seated position. there were three seats, one for each human. the droidy things had a module of their own, they crammed them in like meat, 8 on top of each other and they voluntarily rotated the bottom position. a bit like like those wonderful old penguins on earth protecting them from the weather. indeed some of the droids looked like penguins, fat, short stubby arms and longs legs ( instead of wings or claws ) and they had a predilection for fish paste. the more malodorous the better.

ok, i’m here .. stammered carol.

why do they have tasks for us ? we’re the forgotten space palace in the stars.

she didn’t rate very highly on the mumblet scale of valuable employees, she was two steps higher on the shitcan of the lowest register, but still higher than moony.

what do they want ?

don’t worry i’ve scanned the last message for you, and here come the beeps of the follow up one now. it‘s from trevor nubleous again so it really must be important.

moony had no idea as to why he, carol and the wanker were being given such seemingly important things to do, but as the wanker had been placed in the stretching chamber it all came down to captain moony, fuck that sounded good, captain moony. yes sir captain moony he broadcast to himself and in his latest tbaoo.com post.

the huge, planet sized blog audience of tbaoo had become used to moony’s ramblings, seemingly honest, sneeringly cynical style. he had to continue in the vein that had developed over the 120 years. go boldly as the star trek captains used to say with such bravado. moony had no such bravado, but he did have the publish button.

carol looked over the list that moony had created for her and laughed at the chicken scrawl he’d inserted over the list. that was until she got to items 5 and 6.

no fucking way .. she screamed out loud.

  1. collect all of the indigenous population from the face of the planet.
  2. place them in the dna adjustment machine and select the long term storage mode.
  3. set coordinates for “trumular 7” where the fuck is that and how do i do that ?
  4. capture the previous captain – robert walker and place him in the stretching chamber.
  5. have sex with any of the fertile female crew, our records show there is one left, designated as carol. yahoo and yippee !!
  6. place the resulting “instant oen” into the storage tube and set for maturation. fantastic
  7. note – under no circumstances are you to use the gestation machine. ? ?
  8. shave that ridiculous facial hair and have a haircut. still to do
  9. clean your cabin and remove all personal possessions. still to do
  10. be standing by and ready for further details which will be sent at 22.00 hours. waiting

this was not the courtship strategy moony had planned for, it was forced upon him by trevor. maybe his comments could have been a slight more subtle, but he was no good at being subtle. he was after all a little dim. keen, sometimes a little cowardly but dim.

deep down in the corridors, the eyes have it. they saw the crumbling beast come out from behind the panel from 78 angles. the beastly creature came out from it’s slumber, outwardly angry and seeking revenge, but it really only needed to evacuate it’s version of a bladder. it had been in a deep slumber for 40 years and really needed a relaxing wee like thing. there was so much waste built up inside this creature, folklore still talks of the force in which it’s evacuation pushed the space palace out of it’s balanced position in orbit. it was also very – very loud, the humans heard the waterfall sounds before they felt the jolt. all of the eyes looked away so there are no visual records, just the richter scale, yes it was still used, but not normally utilised to record the shock waves of a creature weeing for 20 minutes.

once the ship had interrogated this huge amount of wee like liquid and determined that it was unnecessary, it got rid of it. the ship then turned on the creature. in a voice not unlike michael jackson from the 20th century, it asked:

who are you ?

what are you doing here ?

are there any other waste actions you’re likely to take soon ?

what are your intentions ?

do you know why i speak in such a child like girly voice ? .. it asked that one to everyone it questioned.

the creature was at a disadvantage, it couldn’t speak and could only grunt a gutural groan in response. the real reason for the visit would become clear when a small block of computer chips in the shape of a banana squeezed out from it’s underarm. the eyes saw it, the ship heard it and being immediately satisfied, let the creature on it’s preordained way. it’s way was going to be the real way, the mumblet way and therefore the only way.

robert the wanker suddenly opened his eyes, farted and heard the stretching machine speak to him, just to him and none-one else. it warned him of the creature’s arrival and observed in quite glowing terms that robert had never looked better. robert’s predilection of having sex with a varied assortment of machines might actually do him good in this very frightening time.

the time was 22.00.

kevin has a mission

22.00 is here and the message beeping had intensified as the time got closer and so did moony’s heartbeat, as carol gently snuggled up close to read the screen. she smelt kinda funny but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

  • attention employees brown and schubert … your lives are in danger !!
  • you must retreat to the smouldering module and get on with the breeding.
  • hide there until you hear the all clear alarm sound off.
  • go there now and don’t look down or travel along corridors seven through to eighteen.
  • when the all clear alarm has run it’s pentatonic scale, bring your stupid assess up to the funnel and ensure the course is set for trumular 7. make sure you’ve completed the other items on the list.
  • brown – when the breeding has finished, don’t forget the clean up and shave – see items 8 & 9.
  • schubert – make sure you access the correct storage tube and maturation settings, the company’s future depends on it.

wow, why would an instant oen from our loins be some sort a hero for the shity company .. of all things.

moony wondered himself what the fuck that last bit of the message meant .. i don’t know, it’s very strange, this whole space palace in the stars trip. remember – the palace was only supposed to be orbiting mars, it wasn’t supposed to be sent so far out and for so long.

he was rather excited about the breeding part so he simply mumbled … let’s go, let’s get funky, how the hell are we going to avoid corridor nine ?

what the dog man trevor didn’t realise when he set all this up, is that the palace was at this moment in a state of repair and remodelling, from the inside out. corridor nine was the only access open to carol and moony. they had to be very quick and as it turned out very lucky to get to the funky sweaty part.

the creature having had relieved itself was stalking the corridors seven through to eighteen. it was looking for the small plastic nano film that trevor had left for it all those years ago. this strip would allow it to control the palace and divert it to trumular 7 if the stupid employees failed or in the case of their ultimate demise, take care of instead of. the creature who was called kevin by it’s creators, only had one mission and could or would not let any one or thing, get in it’s way. find the film, get it to the funnel and place it onto the navigation screen. the organic nano bits would do the rest and set the coordinates if indeed they weren’t already. kevin did wonder though why it was necessary to be so freak’n big and scary when all it had to do was walk a few hundred meters and to accomplish this simple task. kevin nearly didn’t notice the distraction even when it became one.

the other thing that trevor hadn’t thought or realised could happen, was that the ship had developed a bit of a quirk and decided that like “al” from that very famous old classic film 2001 space odyssey, it was aiming to control itself according to it’s understanding of the rules. head scientist carol schubert and the now designated captain moony brown were tolerable but the palace was very glad the wanker robert was now under it’s control ( or so it thought ) in the stretching chamber. suddenly it sensed a large unwanted presence lurking along corridor nine.

carol had grabbed her feminine needs, moony grabbed some wine and a towel and off they went down corridor nine. all was going along very nicely until they saw the corridor doors collide into the bulk heads at an alarming rate, faster then they could ever hope to get through them .. bang, whish, bang, whish, bang and on it went all the way down for as far as they could see.

they only had to get to the smouldering module and it was two bulk heads away.

at only one bulk head away, a bulk of a slimy hairy and angry mass appeared from the side tube and it looked pissed. it was oblivious to them as it walked into the corridor and seemed to be meandering with a mission to the furthest point.

will we make it to bulk head five without it seeing us ?

i hope so, please keep you voice down, it might have ears… or something like them to hear us.

don’t tell me to be quite you big knob who blogs, we have to try and sneak into the module.

they managed to make it to the door mechanism just as kevin turned around, they didn’t know he was called kevin, hey they didn’t even know he was a he. they didn’t care about such things as the whish and bang managed to occur in the nick of time, just as kevin lunged at them a second or two too late. the plan trevor had planned had a flaw or three – the repairs, the crew being alive and that kevin had woken a bit too early .. even trevor would learn to realise that needing a wee in the morning is enough to get anything out of it’s pit.

they were in … let the sex begin.

getting sexy in the module

it began, it happened over and over and over again. moony was pleasantly surprised at how he managed it. carol was equally surprised, she was so surprised she screamed it out over and over and over again.

moony as it tuned out was fit, so fit he was a gentle yet forceful fit into the ocean that was carol. his size did matter and wasn’t carol appreciative. she lay back in the smouldering module, wet with sweat, passion and tears. this amazing session of sexual gymnastics had only just begun yet carol had reached orgasm at moony’s very first touch. it was a caring and thoughtful touch she’d never thought moony capable of. the kiss, the sweeps and the nibbles were just enough to spark the reaction, it was a full throated scream. it was that much of a whole body reaction that moony thought at first he’d something wrong .. that was until she pushed his head even further in and he understood that he was on the right track.

her first sweeping climax and drained relaxation state over with, she decided to return the favour. the history boffins looked at the footage many years later – yes the module had a secret eye recording feature, ( unbeknownst to carol or moony ), and wondered how she managed such a feat of sexual athleticism. especially as oral sex had been banned my mumblet. it in it’s dominating way had thought that the name and the act had a certain sameness. not the act, joy or outcome, it was that the street slang for a head job was; to enjoy a mumblet or indeed be mumbleated. this could not be allowed, so the act of he on she, she on he, she on she and he on he had to stop. stop it did, as far as the universe thought, but not really, it was just driven underground. in fact a new slang word appeared and kept on the low down, it was to company, to provide or receive or endure being accompanied.

carol and moony didn’t care, they had half of their suits off and had already reached a strong company position. carol had a complete takeover underway and she knew it, while moony hoped that she could take over more. her appetite became ferocious as did the thunderous orgasm that nearly twisted moony’s neck. carol’s neck remained remarkably rigid, as moony became less so.

once both of them had recovered enough, the act of serious pelvic bumping intercourse lasted for about twenty minutes. carol screamed some more, both came some more and even the module’s secret eye screamed, it was all too much. too much noise, too much mess to absorb and every conceivable space in the five metre round facility had to be wiped down. the ship would be very upset when it found out.

the conception was complete and the storage tube automatically popped out of it’s dispenser in preparation of the almost immediate birth. no-one knew how it knew but they always did, they just went pop !! and landed in the lap of the first human female within the fifteen metre range it was set for.

the company had decided a number of years ago to reduce the time of “conception to placement” in the maturation storage tube. it was now down to three minutes, not even enough time to come down from the high, to pull up your pants or zip up the zip. but it was just enough time to get the ugly transfer spatular ready. growing oens wasn’t a glamourous affair, even if the affair was.

the regret and recriminations from this spectacular sexual coupling was yet to come.

robert is back

robert had caught some of the corridor racing, the banging, whishing, banging, whishing and banging. he even heard vibrations in the floor. it was the banging going on in the smouldering module, although he didn’t know what was causing that. after the rambulous rumblings of moony and carol’s love making had stopped, robert peeked a look outside the stretching chamber. the high heels he was wearing had disappeared. he was now shoeless and wearing a very odd and inflated white ballon suit, the extra air inflated within that suit would capture the spoilage of the stretching. as it hadn’t occurred he was half bouncing, flying and falling about the place as he sneaked a look into the corridor.

kevin stumbled by and failed to see the blimp boy robert in his flash suit. kevin was preoccupied with something behind him – he’s missed them. as well failing to see robert the wanker.

hurry .. kevin grunted, he had work to do and these missed distractions were getting him nowhere.

robert had to get to the funnel. the only place for the captain he thought, he thought he was still the captain. even though that idiot moony had splodged him and placed him in the stretching chamber – he was still in charge.

damn that moony and where the blinkers is that silly clone i made to pleasure carol with ?

robert realised he was stumbling this self questioning out loud, to no-one or anything in particular.

why’d i bother with this carol fixation, woman aren’t really my thing and i know i’m not theirs.

robert had found the release valve for the balloon suit which was unfortunately on his backside. the opening of the suit gave him a good push along, but his butt was now on display. robert didn’t care though he was in a hurry but he knew that there was no-one to see his derrière, only the eyes and they didn’t care. they were distracted by the salacious sauciness in the smouldering module anyway.

robert was deep down, a very lonely man, without much going for him.

he was 53 years old, dyslexic, colour blind and had very hairy ears. he was also rather short, balding, overweight and had the misfortune of wearing the oldest and badly stained set of second hand dentures. these dentures had a purple stain and were the only ones he could afford, just prior to boarding the space palace. the purple teeth signaled ( to those unfortunate to see ) a particular price bracket which was nick named shit poor. his haste to get laid while celebrating this assignment to the palace, saw his chance for new teeth, a hair transplant and two minute lipo suction pass him by. the autbot pleasure machine that took his fancy, took his money card and his identification pass. he only managed to bluff his way onto the palace with a plausible story. the story was so piss poor that the ship couldn’t possibly deny it’s pitiful truth. the “pitiful truth” was exactly what the ship tagged each of robert’s uniforms with.

he wandered about prior to this recent upheaval, in a mauve overall suit, with “pitiful truth” printed on his chest, his purple teeth and a certain dribble that could never be removed. of course he had three pairs of lovely high heels that he would swap with gay abandon.

he was just at the funnel door, when he saw that an eye was staring right at him  ….

trevor nubleous is nervous

life in the mumblet satellite science headquarters was pretty lame. it sat on the edge of the 980 foot “west crater” described in 1969 as the “sea of tranquility”. it was later named by the company as the “slosh point” due to the near mishap with the fuel sloshing about in apollo 11 and setting off a low fuel warning as it landed. it landed men on the moon. the company liked words that had a liquid feel or sound to them for some reason. they considered calling it the “squelching pad” but it sounded rude.

back in the days of this first man landing on earth’s moon and the ongoing american space exploration, everything was controlled by nasa. america was the large and rather annoying country that lead to world wars 3 and 4 and their boffins were the masters of the whole schibang. the other super power of the day russia, had it’s own boffins but they had slipped down the totem pole of space exploration at that time.

so the mumblet compound sat on the edge of this crater, it squatted like a bear trying to wipe it’s backside with a nice white rabbit. it had three arms or wings that bounced out from the main body section and could rotate around, as and when required. as viewed from above the compound had an awkward look and sense about it. that look and sense was right, it was both, and some.

trevor nubleous sat in his personal lodging module and just started out the window. he felt awkward.

of course as trevor nubleous was half man and dog, he couldn’t see much because the window was so low down. he had to scamper up the maze of ramps and frames to see out the top through the ceiling like window opening above him. a little like kevin, trevor thought himself as a he. he didn’t know any different, as he had no sex, no genitalia or inkling that he should have any. that’s what the employees were for, they could pop out oens very quickly. this would in the end, save “him” from exploring his non existent sexuality.

trevor remained squat at the lower window and wee’d against the wee post he demanded be installed there. it had great plumbing, was free from static electricity and provide a sweet smell, after his sour smell had hit the pan. there was even a little mirror to help adjust anything that needed adjusting, although he didn’t have much to adjust. he was waiting and he was nervous.

back when they landed the headquarters here at the slosh point, this small satellite science headquarters ended up being called – muddle. muddle didn’t fit with liquid theme of course, but was the pilot’s terribly enlarged enlarged adenoids that caused him to announce..

look out we’ve arrived and it’s a muddle ….

he was tying to warn of an enormous puddle. he thought the west crater had filled with water and alerted everyone to a very wet and dangerous landing, by screaming muddle. he screamed that much and that often during the 20 minute landing procedure that everyone though the place was called muddle. so muddle it is. it wasn’t water, he was only looking at a reflection from the crater’s floor.

trevor had a “sort of” friend and it was this impending visit that had concerned “him”. trevor was quite worried about the outcome of this visit and his report about the strange happenings on the science palace in the stars.

nobby arrives and leaves a stain

robert had seen the eye and of course the eye had seen him. it sent a micro second message to the ship and the ship sent the wiring. this wiring despatch and it’s subsequent arrival only took two seconds. these last two seconds of robert’s life were rather intense.

he saw them coming and realised that it was the end. the end of the wiring grabbed him by the right ear and lifted him off the ground like a rag doll. it was incredibly odd, as it turned out, because that was exactly what robert became, a rag doll ripped in twenty six sections with the normal amount of goop, juice, blood, bones and guts. he was spread all over the funnel door and corridor. the wiring only had one thing to do and that was it’s pre-programed task, which was to rip the crap out of what it was told to. the ship told it do so, so it did so. ripping complete it slid back into the wall.

trevor on the other hand had not managed to slide into any wall or other hiding place. he sat there very much in his place ( and relived after his wee ) waiting. the visitor has announced that he’d be there at 19.45 earth time and it was that now.

this visitor had a peculiar trait that left a stain and odd noises wherever he walked. it wasn’t a train but a trait and it was the nature of the trait ( and the odd sounds ) that disturbed those who witnessed it. the visitor was the second in charge of mumblet and as he was secondary he had been manufactured by the much older order of gene manipulation group (moogmg ) who’s work had since been taken over and improved upon by trevor and his minions. this visitor had been plastered, sculptured and grown from a garden snail, a man and a duck and was a cruel display of exactly why the moogmg had been dematerialised into fertilizer some 15 years ago.

trevor sat in wait. the door screamed it’s opening and there he was. nobby !! that was is real name it was told, but those out of ear shot of any eyes, walls or other beings called him  – “slippery back” he slid across the room after the door let him through. he stank a bit, quacked a grunt and did what normal humans would call sit down, but in his case it was a squash and a squelch, as he hit the seat’s firm grasp.

spludger me nubleous !! what in the shit are you doing on that space palace ? 

are any of the humans still alive and have you got the oen yet ?

trevor started to answer, but ended up farting a loud, sharp and smelly retort that scared nobby witless. this really broke the mood and gave rise to a new expression in corporate mumblet meetings .. “trevulate and die”. nobby quacked and screamed at the same time and demanded an apology. trevor did and then proceeded to explain the goings on in the palace.

trevor had two minutes of excruciatingly long embarrassment to endure before nobby finally replied. it took that long for nobby to think, he wasn’t the quickest, but he was by far the cruelest and that is what he was made for. to exact revenge and apply extreme punishment to those employees that deserved it and that was most of them.

so we have the oen and we have two humans left alive is that right ?

yes sir….

what have you done with that kevin, is it still ravaging around the ship ?

yes sir but he won’t be for long as he’s been set to self decay within one year.

so you’ve got a kevin creature with a year to go, two humans hiding from him while on their way to trumular 7, is that it right nubleous, is that the best you can do ? what the “kiddle” were you thinking, a year !! -  could you not have set it for two days or something equally sensible ?

yes sir … trevor was not feeling very well and felt some more serious flatulence building and gaining some momentum. this fart, if it happened could be the last thing he ever did.

trevor squirmed, nobby thought and all the while moony and carol shipped on regardless. their next major difficulty would be to get from the module to the funnel in one piece.

thanks to their wild ructions and the demise of robert, there was a great deal of mess to get through.

which side is starboard

nobby left trevor with a bad taste in his mouth, a stench in his nostrils and a stain on his chair. all in all, it wasn’t the worst that could have happened. nobby had been known to dissect his cause of annoyance with a laser knife and spread the remains all over the nearest wall, trevor’s wall remained spotless.

although carol couldn’t say the same for the smouldering module, it was a mess. moony was snoring as they waited for the corridor to be clear of all things kevin.

hey, wake up moony !!

hmmm yes, i’m awake .. although he didn’t seem so. he grabbed himself in such a way that only a man can and stretched his weary bones and shrinking muscles into shape.

what’s happening, is the corridor clear ? are we off then.

i’ve had a look and it looks ok, are you ready ? 

well yeah lets’s go. we’re off to the funnel right ? 

that’s what the message said, and looking at the state of that freaky creature thing we’d better hurry up.

kevin was running out of corridor to check and in it’s own way decided to backtrack itself and see what it could find. recalling that close call in corridor nine, maybe “he” should cut through to there again. the decision was made and the leg things worked their magic, so off “he” went.

carol and moony escaped this time with no cliched close call, or a fright or even an inkling that there was any chance of being “kevined” – as it turned out “he” hadn’t turned up and missed them by two hours. no close call, no call at all.

the alarming thing for the super breeders was confronting the front, back and sides, as in within, without and backsides of robert. his high heel shoes glistened in the goop and guts. they were waterproof after all, robert would have been so pleased.

is this all that’s left of robert ?

well hopefully it is, because if he’s still moving about he wont be feeling so good, or much help to us.  

don’t be a wally moony, this is terrible, even though he was such a wanker he didn’t deserve this ending.

talking of endings, they had to step though certain parts of him, they’d regret for years, it was disgusting but they had to get into the funnel. well through the door they slopped and made their way to two of the three chairs/stations.

their surprise was palpable, their hearts leapt and their throats sighed .. the ship had taken control and set the course they thought they were there to set. trumular 7 was the next stop, whether they wanted or not, of course they wanted to, they were told to go there.

meanwhile, trevor had gathered his senses and sent a self destruct message to kevin. poor old kevin suddenly decided to change corridors again and headed for the rubbish portal on deck three. he pressed the entry button, stepped inside and then smacked the emergency empty button. the poor old creature just evaporated into space, screaming and weeing like a firehouse, the oddly shaped stains on the side of the ship could never be removed.

so there they were, carol and moony, blessed with nothing much to do, no apparent danger, or so they thought, they tumbled into another round of love making that lasted for days. the ship was very interested in this act and the fast approaching craft that had appeared on it’s starboard side. it was well confused, but this was the right side. there would be nothing right about it.

moony learnt to fly in australia

history would show that moony and carol were very much the beginning. they were the beginning of the end. those that cared about their life, should have been very pleased that those two “less than startling” minds of 2140 had got together and endured the chaos of the space palace in the stars.

after all moony wasn’t supposed to be captain. he was a polite pilot. he was an unfortunate participant, stumbling his way through no end of drama and intrigue, although it could be said, he knew nothing about the intrigue. blissfully unaware. carol on the other hand was a little smarter and ended up using the chain of events to her best advantage.

moony was born in australia, on earth in 2113. in a time of peace and enjoying a lifestyle that was far better than the residents of the northern hemisphere areas described as europe. in contrast, the asian economic parts of this planet were in a seriously chunky growth phase and bought up resources from places like australia, like there was no tomorrow. indeed there was a tomorrow and australia’s financial stability was riding on this limited resources boom. it sold all that it had and then slid into an odd decline, of course that didn’t happen until 2202. all the cheap as chips manufactured goods snapped up by the rest of the world, were made by these asian countries and sold to the wealthier ones. the downside is that the purchasers of all this cheaper stuff ended up with no chance of a sustainable future. their future depended on the asian countries and the mess that europe had become.

this in some small way, helped moony become a pilot, and a polite one at that. he was raised in a main stream, often described as middle class environment, within a loving family in the beach side town of port lincoln. this warm, beach side location, was a summer all year round kind of a place ( due to global warning as it turned out ), and it offered no drama, other than that offered by the local government of the day. the federal government during this chaotic period dissolved parliament, being that the population was unable to vote in a majority. even after three attempts, it was a complete mess, giving oxygen to the rat bag single issues groups as they scrambled for their chance to dictate public policy. they failed thankfully.

moony swanned about in port lincoln, carefree, hetrosexual and bronzed with a tan that would make a dedicated dermatologist scream. he didn’t care, he had all the surf, beer, girls, job, and a great family, one man ( or women for that matter ) would want. no real issues that would make him think or care. he worked at selling homes in port lincoln and as such, met loads of new people, slept with some, drank with some and surfed with others. sometimes he managed all three with the same person. he grew up with two older sisters that pretty well left him alone, let him grow, taught him loads of sensible “modern thinking tolerance type ideals” and how to deal with life in general. moony was a good learner when he bothered, it was just that he didn’t bother that much, until he got the phone call.

one of the last things the less than cohesive federal government did, at the behest of the angry small minded conservatives, was to create a compulsory military draft system and poor well tanned moony’s number was pulled out this draft system. he was scooped up and sent to alice springs in the middle of australia to learn to fly and become a serious armed forces participant. this reluctant acceptance was an indicator of the way moony would live his life.

he was rather good at this flying lark and learnt how to skate his way through the military machinations. he was seconded to the space program in his early twenties. just in time to catch the newly invented extremely long hibernation technology that allowed him to appear in 2140 on board the space palace. he awoke ready for action and like kevin, he was ready for a rather large body waste evacuation. he also had a tbaoo post to write and a ship to meet.

it was dark and wet

the darkest and wettest part of the ship had a design about it that denied its real purpose. the featureless walls, floors and ceiling did not really welcome human entry, but it wasn’t designed for that. it was the secret place that trevor had built. a back up in case of his own untimely demise.

trevor was after all an employee, a very important one yes, but still an employee. he had created a number of tricky escape mechanisms that would ensure his continued existence. this slim chance of an eternal trevor like life ( in some form or another ) had driven trevor to deposit his genetic material in a number of safe, dark and wet places. this one, here on the the space palace in the stars, might just be the one that triggers itself into existence. no-one knew of this, except for the droid that was guarding the material and it was very tired, sitting there in the dark with its extremities rusting away in the damp.

the ship had no knowledge of this nursery or its guard. the ship had other things to worry about.

interestingly the ship didn’t really worry, but reacted while conducting itself in the most professional manner. this manner was polite, courteous and friendly. well, friendly enough when it could, dispatching humans and unwanted rubbish such as kevin was only a small component of its protocol. learning how to understand human behaviour was well beyond it, so far.

carol and moony had to sleep.

the ship had decided to engage in some long overdue introspection. the course it had set, the drama of the wiring and that large smelly creature had revealed that internal systems needed to be purged, swept and cleaned. a bit of what used to be called defrag. a stupid term but everyone knew what it meant, even the older humans still alive when computers first made it into peoples homes. these unfortunates where very frightened by the new technology, but many adapted, sent photos, used facebook and even some tried skype. these companies had been destroyed and replaced by splodger of course. mumblet had ended up buying the older people as well, when it took over earth. they were stored in chambers and kept for parts.

the ship sailed on and so did carol and moony, they slept like they’d never done before.

the space palace was the envy of all who designed and built space craft, well there were only three people who did, but they were envious. they had watched the cheeky newcomer to this industry win the contract and undercut their bid by 18 trillion. not so much under but enough to embarrass them into rethinking their costings and reason for living. mumblet didn’t like too many variables and having four to choose from made nobby exceedingly uncomfortable. these remaining three, the losers, tossed a coin and the winner ? decided to end it’s life by being shot into space from earth like a semi rigid water filled balloon, but without a space ship or other suitable protection. then there was three again. that’s how business was conducted now, a three and no more, pretty well in every line of work and tender process. anytime a new one arrived, off another would go, dying in a method of their choosing.

droid 78 stirred and moved the seven of its cohorts up from the stack it lay beneath. droid 78 did not understand just why it stirred, but it moved off the rack storage platform out into the corridor and made its way to the funnel. the reason became clear on the way, it had to help the captain and kill that human female he had seemed to become very fond of.

droid 78 had an order and an order had to be obeyed, the carol creature had to be discarded and droid 78 was going to do it. it walked at a casual pace as it realised it would take at least a day to get to the funnel. the path was arduous, dark, wet and risky as it had to talk to the wiring at each level access door. the wiring asked the same bleeding questions every-time as it could not remember the previous questioning.

the sleeping, the defraging and the walking droid 78 was all that was stirring on the space palace.

how many gods have their own particle

carol was dreaming. she had a load of wild thoughts in that human brain and they all flew about like an ant colony on the move. the colours, memories, drama, love and dislikes were all trying to find a nice place to nest. only when she was asleep did carol’s body let them all run like mad things together, awake she was very controlled and dedicated.

her and moony had ended up getting on very well, and the sex was great as well. sex wasn’t something she’d thought about when she first got the call up to the space palace in the stars. in fact it was probably the very last thing she was thinking about.

carol was raised in a small country town, occupied by three families. these families had stretched the allowable and decent gene pool scenario. they met outsiders with a vigorous indifference and subdued hatred. her father was the local bank manager and her mother a stay at home mum with carol and her four brothers. the mother was a spirited red headed wonder who had decided to settle for a boring second best and married the local social outcast. he was the best choice for marrying, as his father owned the bank, but he was not a lover, a thinker or a very nice person.

one of carol’s brothers became a scientist, a researcher in fact. he went on to invent and develop new contraceptive vaccines, a byproduct of the small genetic pool he was born in. the local gene starved community did not believe in science, they believed in a christian god. the odd thing was that in 2130 there were so many different gods, cults and hundreds of political parties, all bragging that they had one of the gods on their side. there was even a god particle, which was adapted, harnessed and now utilised in pushing new space palaces about the universe.

the community had struggled to choose its god. it was put to a popular vote, but since there were only three heads of families it was pretty easy for the final outcome to be reached. carol’s father who was one the head of families, had the remains of two heads, but that’s another story. the gene wars in america had seen quite a torrid exchange between mythical fairy tale beliefs and scientific explanation. the science won. this community called “nooblers” had decided on the christian god and that was that. no argument was entered into and no dissuasive discussion allowed.

carol had struggled with this point of view. she had excelled at school and while her teacher was impressed, her parents were not. this exploration of knowledge and willingness to question the commonly accepted view was not befitting the daughter of a family head. peter had fought in the gene wars and the scars at his shoulder would, if he ever took his shirt off, provide tell tale evidence of this second head. carol was a clean skin, although one of her brothers had sadly inherited all the genetic mess in one foul soup. her brother “vic” would entertain the tourists for many years, before his peculiar deformity finally had the last laugh.

it wasn’t a laughing matter for the medics that had to clean up the explosion that was the release of vic’s interior parts. these parts had grown that much that they simply had nowhere else to go and burst of out poor vic, like a peaky boil at the beach – boom. the family of tourists who absorbed in the front row would need therapy for years. their second child was that badly covered by the genetic escape, he’d be dead from serious medical complications within six months.

as carol had qualified for university, she wished to spread her wings and the frightening realigning of her brothers body parts gave the family a moments distraction. she snuck off the day of the funeral and never went back. the company snapped her up at university, she had skills, a willingness to study and what seemed to be a single minded sense of dedication. mumblet used such institutions to search for humans and carol was only one of thousands to become snapped.

only when moony moaned in her ear, did carol’s wild dreaming find a place to nest.

carol slowly came back to life and reality. the life and reality of the space palace that is.

rick is dumb and very boring

there had to be a downside and the dumbass rick could always be relied upon to dwell in the low side. the downside of brains, knowledge, thought, aptitude and application of life. he was as thick as two transfield condensers and if you haven’t seen one of them, don’t worry they’re pretty thick. a bit like a thirty eight occupant accommodation module only bigger and with no style or positive attributes at all.

the trouble with rick, is that he had a continued and unfettered access and strangely annoying presence in the mumblet communication center. he was able to relay, receive and send all the messages that flew about the universe. these communications did not really have to be mumblet messages, the system just grabbed them all and spied on everyone, everything. no matter what race, creature or life-form they came from or where sent to. stupid rick couldn’t understand that the access to knowledge he pushed about, could really make a positive change to his smelly, disease ridden, drug fuelled existence. he just continued on his altered way, ignoring anything that mattered and anything that would broaden his bottom feeder lifestyle. a worm had a better perspective on modern life than this duffus could possibly imagine.

he did rave on about fixing things and his huge collection of old shit. he hoarded stuff like a possessed second hand dealer and proudly drained on about his cleverness in doing so. shit is shit and his shit was shit no matter who used to own it. if you want to talk about antiquities, rarities or things that have some intrinsic value, don’t talk to rick, all he has is shit.

so there was rick, scratching his balls while draining on about a new tv he’d bought from some hapless troll who’s time had come. he’d bought the tv for next to nothing, it was in 300 pieces, had no server and no screen, but shit it was cheap, in fact it was cheap because it was shit. he was so incredibly excited about this life changing detail he nearly missed the message from trevor nubleous.

as with everything else that goes on around him, rick didn’t understand. he did have a story to tell though and he kept telling the same fucking stories over and over and over again. to say that rick was boring was to say that the universe was big, so feck’n obvious and tremendously correct – yes rick was bat shit boring and so was his bat shit collection.

trevor nubleous – # droid 78 @ the space palace in stars …

get yourself to the funnel and kill that randy, orgasm packed female that seems to be cavorting with captain moony at every given opportunity. kill her !! then report back when the job is done. hurry up.

rick read this as it swept by on the screen and though wow. droid 78 that’s a cool call name sign. i had a droid once and it was called bolt, he told the less than interested workmate who’d heard this bleeding story about eight times already. yes rick what did you do with bolt ? bill replied while holding back a yawn that was as big as something big.

well !! .. rick replied with enthusiasm, not knowing that billy was simply filling in time and taking the piss out of him. i had him for ten years and made two dollars profit when i sold him .. fantastic !! he used to fetch the drinks, make my drugs and when i was lonely he filled a void, or indeed allowed me to fill his. i’m not gay as you know bill, but it was very lonely and cold on that relay station, i mean i was there for seven years on my own,  just me and bolt that is. i had to sell him though, a two dollar profit couldn’t be ignored.

bill stated the same old reply he did very single time, you’re the tightest human i’ve ever met, you’d die to save four dollars and rave about how wonderful that saving was when you were brought back to life. you are an idiot rick and i’d think that having sex with a make droid would be close enough to being gay. but hey you keep on thinking that if it makes you happy.

rick never got the intent of the playful mischief that bill poured back at him, even though it happened every shift. rick was rereading that message and thought to himself, how can i swap bill for a human like carol ?

bill was thinking the same thing, how to get a new work colleague, when he read a message that shot by him. it was from nobby. when nobby sent a message it was really important and bill snuck a look.

nobby – moony @ the space palace in the stars ..

get yourself and that horny beastie you are so fond of pleasuring out of the funnel and hide from droid 78. there’s been a change of plan, plans you need to anything about of course. get yourself to the escape module two and await my next message. the droid will be dealt with and the company is waiting on your safe arrival at trumular 7.

droid 78 knew nothing of this contradictory message of course, it was following direction from trevor and of course trevor knew nothing about it either.

rick and bill did not tell each other of their recent interest in the company’s goings on. they just kept talking endlessly about rick’s shit, rick’s stupidity and his bat shit boring, bat shit collection.

life went on as normal, as well as it could do in the communications room at least.

loads of news is good and bad

the science palace in the stars hurtled through space like a “scared little funtilied rodent” up a greased transit tube. it was so fast and so smooth that those on the planets it passed, were oblivious to it’s trajectory.

in fact one small planet moved ever so slightly in it’s orbit after it passed that it kicked started a dramatic change within it’s inhabitants. they were in the dark literally and could only feel their way around. that was until the subtle shift occurred and many generations later they came out of the dark and transmogrified into a bipedal species with eyes that saw. what they saw filled their hearts with joy.

the science palace hurtled on. it was designed to be functional, fast, very adaptive and a light shade of yellow. it looked a bit like an lemon. lemons were still around in 2140 except they had been genetically altered into growing in a square shape. this was very handy. the ship had a computer, droids, automatic operation and a self cleaning feature that was the envy of a great number of civilisations. so good that it had to be reined in sometimes. it interrogated humans, droids and other guests with their ultimate disposal, much to the surprise of the invited guests, who over the years had been unceremoniously ejected into space. the ship took cleaning out unwanted items very seriously.

the designers had a sense of humour as they integrated the features. all surfaces of the human occupancy areas, were smooth, plastic like and rounded. this aspect annoyed many of the human occupants over the years as they couldn’t balance any blasted thing on a table or bench as they were always sliding off. the colour palette was grey, green, yellow and white. some areas were that white that it looked like the birth of a planet. it was so freak’n bright the humans need phase welding masks to navigate through them. the droids were not really affected by these design quirks, they were troubled by the rounded edges though, they kept sliding all over the place.

each of the control panels were pleasing to the human eye. they read the human’s eye and reacted to the movements, if the human hands were busy. a bit like those very old fighter pilot operations. look there it worked, looked somewhere else – it then worked.

the smell permeating through the ship was also deliberate. it was a soft garden smell, a bit like rain, wet grass and chocolate all mixed up together. the idea being that it would calm the humans and allow for greater scientific endeavors. sometimes the droids overdosed on this aroma and went a bit bonkers. the sliding, smells and programming errors made life very tedious for these human like machines.

the machines on the science palace were a different story. they were designed for one task and they had no redeeming feature other than that task. they sat, wriggled, prodded and poked their way about their daily duties. it was a reassuring feature the designers had insisted upon. robert the wanker’s predilection for having mechanical sex with them had messed up some programming, but not enough to alter the routine goings on, on the science palace.

the non human areas were also a different story, filled with wild wires, dark spaces and labyrinth passages throughout the inner working on the palace. that was also deliberate, keep those pesky humans away from the real nuts and bolts. the loony human nuts couldn’t be trusted in these areas.

they were strictly encouraged to keep well clear.

the adventures of humans and machines on board the palace was widely read on universal news reports, much to trevor’s annoyance. he wanted things to be a bit more mysterious. actually he wanted no-one to know what was going on, certainly not the seemingly daily reports on the ship’s progress. he didn’t know about nobby’s secret agenda or the “news/ship’s/chip” that provided these intricate details. the chip had a wonderful turn of phrase and appeared to know everything about the goings on.

one story in particular had captivated the universal news audience.

the name revealed

one of the most exciting aspects of the space palace history told in schools, was the sheer tedious and definitely not exciting nature of space travel at that time. they just sat about, talking, reading, exercising, having sex ( when lucky enough to ) and eating. they’d also rid themselves of waste, both physically and mentally and just waited. they waited for a bloom’n long long time. they could still be waiting now.

students of the future were able to just walk into the “hyperwackler machine” and be sent like the famous science fiction writers of the past thought, just decomposed molecularly and then reconstructed at the other end. no-one flew about in funny shaped box like ships any more. they questioned why a ship was shaped with a pointy end anyway. it was unnecessary. there was no resistance, as resistance was futile (  thanks douglas adams )

the field of science fiction writing ran out of steam in 2167, everything they thought about had, and would, instantly become reality. as soon as they thought of it, or made motion pictures about it, it became reality. science had come a long way. forwards and backwards

rather pointless then struggling to dream up new stuff, when they could make gazillions of money inventing new things. so they would dream it, think it, be frightened by and bingo it was made and then dealt with. not much thought went into the ramifications until it was built and it’s impact endured. in fact a whole race of very overweight pleasant peasant people in a small earth country called “china” were vaporised when a newly created weight loss device was put to use. the small rubbery thing just wiped out anyone with a body mass index deemed to be unattractive at the time. 6 million people just disappeared, it was said there was a loud popping sound and then they were gone.

history has a funny way of distorting or clarifying the past, that’s why it’s called history. time travel had mucked up this truest of trues though. the people responsible for time travel were not very jolly folk. they had nobby to thank for that. he ran the whole thing, had in the past, did now and will in the future, no matter what anyone tried to alter. nobby was clever and even though he was a cross between a snail a man and a duck – he got about a bit.

trevor on the other hand was not very good at getting around. he hated space travel, time travel and would only go out when his carer took him for a walk. short legs and his dog chemistry made for a very complicated lifestyle. rude, basic and active, but complicated non the less.

meanwhile as the palace continued on it’s way, carol asked ..

where the shit did you get the name moony ?

well it was an unfortunate nickname given to me by my school mates back on earth in australia.

why – what does it mean ?

well when we used to go for school trips around port lincoln we had had a road vehicle that would take three classes at once with a teacher or two to keep us in line. the day that spawned my name was not all that special except that we pulled up alongside a local politician’s press conference and it was packed with screaming news media from all over australia. i could’nt resist. moony yawned and sat back extending the telling of the tale.

oh come on resist what ?

well i’d read that young people ( many years before ) had taken great pleasure in exposing their backside at such important events and spreading their cheeks to really bring home the point .. it was called showing, or giving a brown eye, or even described as mooning someone. my name as you know is brown, so the moony just felt natural to my hysterical classmates. the teachers and australia’s media got quite a kick out of it as well. my arsehole was spread all over the news, tv, radio and an older version of one of splodger’s acquisitions called youtube. my arse was famous and that’s why i’m called moony, moony brown.

they both giggled their way into another mind-numbingly boring wait as they palace sailed on. sailed and sailed and sailed. it was a slow news day.

this rather silly tale will continue and each extra bit of nonsense will appear as a new chapter / post ..