Seemingly unrelated to all that was going on to the penguin event that had rocked the Universes understanding of its self, was a small, fairly useless planet known as Earth. Earth was peculiar, in that it was one of the few planets on which the Humans that had crashed there millennia before during a strange catastrophe, in which a fleet of Human Imperial Ships were swallowed by a large space whale. However, resistant to the whales digestive juices, but unable to penetrate the beasts thick hide, they had to wait the several generations in which it would take for them to pass through the behemoths giant gut. One at a time, over a period of a hundred years, the whale defecated out each of the ships, some being able to contact other imperial fleets, but some, like the one that crashed on earth, lost all outside contact.
Most had developed sufficiently to climb back into space, and eventually into Imperial space. The crew of the Earth-Crashed ship however, didn’t. Why this happened is often questioned, however it’s just presumed they all died out in the crash. In fact, until the burning shape of the S.S Wafflehausen came crashing down when it did, everyone in the galaxy presumed them long dead.
---------------------
Skwizzal continued hold against the possible siege of whatever vile, alien race that inhabited this vile, alien planet. Protected by the wreck of the ship, which had survived the crash with relatively little structural damage, he was sure to be able to live out the rest of his days, and await rescue, which of course would never come for him, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Unfortunately for him however, so far his siege had lasted a total of seven minutes, and with each passing second his attention span slowly drifted away. Still, he had no wish to face a hoard of alien species alone, and so with no other option, he had to trust the most mighty power he knew, which held tenfold the power of his special mug, his Magic 8-Ball.The ball held such mysterious powers, to know what to do in all situations, even though it had no eyes or ears to witness the events with, and so it could only logically be suggested in Skwizzal's mind that indeed the ball held some magic quality, as the name did describe to it. Shaking the ball tentatively, hesitating at the risk of having to accept to go out onto the planetary surface of this deeply inhospitable and presumably dangerous planet in search for someway of getting himself out of this mess. Much to his disgust, when he asked "Oh magic ball of the power of 8, do I go out onto this planet in search for help", remembering of course that if he asked politely maybe the ball would treat him more kindly out of friendship to the niceties shown, but of course the ball held no way to ever process that, for the answer fundamentally was random in selection, so the answer merely read out "You may rely on it."
Skwizzal sighed, the prospect of the coming adventure, something Skwizzal was ironically rather against for a galaxy renowned adventurer of the stars, was not a pleasant one. For one, outside of his ship was insanely devoid of cake, nor was there any other ship in the entire galaxy that was almost specifically designed to have cake within a few steps from any part of the ship. Additionally, it would mean going for a walk with Cyberfreak, and frankly that robot gave him more creeps then a thousand Soul-Destroying-Mind-Flaying-Multi-Breasted-Swans eating on his cranium. Cyberfreak was like many proto-Ais of his time, completely batshit insane due to a long list of impossible to fix wiring errors, broken fragments of data in the morality and personality cores in their systems and several general screw ups of a colossal scale. As such, Cyberfreak was left with what would appear in humans’ terms to be a severe case of Schizophrenia. Skwizzal loathed the robot, but was too cheap to really ever get a replacement, which would mean a cutback on his cake budget, and he'd be damned before that happened. As one might expect from Skwizzal, cake formed the main part of his diet, other candy and a variety of sandwiches forming the other parts. While one would think that this would be a diet no body could take, Skwizzal had the unusual ability to live off this diet and still manage to be more fit then most humans, though he was so lazy almost 90% of the time he never really found a reason to do much. However on the rare occasion he decided to get up, he was always found in the sparring cages to be a rather agreeable sort of entertainment to occupy himself with, mixing various fighting style into a cluster fuck type style.
But he rarely had to physically confront many people. Despite the tales his adventures had spun, very little of what wrote about him totally matched with the accounts of heroism accounted onto his person. Often it was relatively little things that ended up going in his favour, little glimpses of incredible good luck, for example once he fought an entire legion of Vicious Stabby Death Bugs, and in his panic fired a shot into the air with a dropped plasma pistol from one of the Marines who had been escorting to him. Little did he know, that at that exact moment, the Vicious Stabby Death Bug Death Leaper, a variation to the common rank and file of the standard Vicious Stabby Death Bugs legions, which just happened to pass on the pheromones from the Vicious Stabby Death Bug Hive Queen, and the moment the shot passed through the chitinous body of the Stabby Death Bug Death Leaper, all of the Stabby Death Bug Soldiers that chased after him flipped the fuck out, recognising everyone of their own kind as enemies, and spent the next few moments killing themselves before another pheromone carrier could reach them. However, the official record of this incident had Skwizzal down for cleverly causing the enemies to turn upon one another using their obvious genetic flaw of Pheromone dependency to communicate and fight as one.
Monumental misunderstandings like this had made Skwizzal one of the most requested explorers in the human race, something which he snubbed rather quickly by hiking up his prices to magnificently high prices. Of course, this also brought the problem that when he DID get commissioned, he was stuck with some serious business. For one, it usually meant danger, death and cakelessness, something which was about as absurd to Skwizzal as you or I trying to go without oxygen. Still, it was money, and it usually meant he could buy something fancy every now and then.
Finally deciding he had no choice, as the ball had spoken, Skwizzal moaned deeply, and got up out of his chest. He went round and looked for the few things he’d want to keep if he was to never return to his beloved ship. He holstered his Sonic Cakefork in his belt, and packed a small side bag, finding his undamaged mug, a few pieces of cake and a laser pistol, which he didn’t really want to take because that would mean accepting that in the near future he would probably have to use it.
He called over Cyberfreak, was at that moment murmuring to a ice cream dispenser about how good puppies tasted with it’s delicious body cream, before shrugging and following Skwizzal. When they both reached the door, Skwizzal donned his long coat and top hat, which contained an atmospherical field generator that gave a small breathable space around Skwizzal in case this planet wasn’t inhabitable. Fingering the hatch codes into the door, he took a deep breath, and recoiled as a blaze of light entered the opening door. As his eyes adjusted light, he began to notice the smell of smoke and the sound of noise outside.
There were only three words that he could think of
“Holy, fucking, shit”
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Of Party Hat Wearing, Cake Eating Penguins, Sonic Cakeforks and Broken Logic Leading To A Curious Incident
Space is big. To quote a wise man, in fact, “Space is big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it's a long way down the road to the drug store, but that's just peanuts to space.”
Another thing about space is its terribly random way of letting things happen. Though, putting it in that way almost makes it sound like the universe has some omnipotent power of driving events, which of course, we all know is absurd. Not even if you you believe in whatever invisible Man/Bear/Spoon/Spider monkey in the sky or any variation of this is can that be excepted .
However, it has been deemed that sometimes, something in space allows itself to do the most unexpected and impossible things.
Somewhere in the middle of a small, empty, relatively moist part of space, such an event happened. One second the little patch of space was sitting nice and quietly, the next, pop. From nowhere, with no reason, a little hole appeared. From this hole, erupted the most peculiar thing.
Penguins. Hundreds upon hundreds of party hat wearing, cake eating penguins.
Of course, the curiosity of such an event did not ever come from what the penguins were eating or doing, which may be the first logical conclusion anyone could come to, but was more accurately directed at why the bloody hell penguins were doing in the most abnormal of places.
Some people jumped straight to conclusions. Perhaps the penguins were on a nice trip out, and had simply sat down for a nice spot of tea and cake, while accidentally forgetting all reason to which they should wear their space suits. Some argued that a temporal rift had been caused somewhere for unknown reasons, and had unfortunately due to their sudden transdimensional pulling forgot to pack their warm clothing to keep themselves warm in the extremes of space.
Of course, these were all hideously wrong, and the true reason was all the more absurd. It happened, quite honestly, because it did.
No other explanation, no further answer, left fewer questions then that. It happened, and that was all there was too it. Everything was fine, and the universe went on with their lives.
Everyone except one person.
----------------------
Aboard his ship, the ace space explorer Skwizzal McCake sat, pondering. What he was pondering, no one knew, except him of course, for that was only reasonable to presume. In all likeliness, this entire Penguin/Cake fiasco waited heavily on his mind. Every neuron in his highly unstable brain was firing to one another, which wasn’t that uncommon for often it would be argued there weren’t that many to fire.
He pondered deeply, unmoving as he looked out from his captains chair, wearing his captains uniform and sipping from his Universes Best Captain (Because this cup says so) tea mug. He occasionally stirred to adjust his space monocle, or his scratch face, or brush his long blonde hair out of his face, but besides that, he did little beyond pondering.
Something about this whole penguin situation seemed totally retarded to him , but his brain, nor any part of his consciousness, had any idea what.
After several weeks of floating in space, resting little and eating only the necessary amounts of food, it finally hit him and finally he realised what had troubled his mind.
Penguins only ever eat fish!
At that conclusion, the ships onboard computer, who had been on it’s metaphorical toes for this great bit of wisdom, realised how pointless it’s existence was with such and idiot, and ordered every service robot on the ship to fry its neural core to end its pitiful existence. With that, the ship veered hard to its left, and descended onto a small, insignificant planet.
----------------------
When Skwizzal awoke, everything was a mess. He shouted at the ships computer to clean up the mess, but then he remembered the ship had committed suicide. Damn Vista Version 4000.12 AI. Picking himself up, he dusted off his monocle, and searched for his Sonic Cakefork. In this age, it was much more normal to have a screwdriver or some other useful tool with sonic capabilities, but Skwizzal liked cake, so he could never be too far from needing his trusty Sonic Cakefork.
When he found it, he proceeded to climb over the clutter in search of something to eat, which was ultimately very easy, since in every room Skwizzal had installed a food dispenser, so he was never too far away from a refreshing ham sammich or slice of cherry chocolate cake.
Taking that, and a can of energy drink, he decided his best move was to go outside, and see what kind of hell hole he’d landed on, before trying to ultimately create a human colony. This seemed like the only reasonable way since he had replaced the Emergency Beacon on his ship with a self destruct mechanism in case someone stole his ship then crashed it. It had never really occurred to him that he, the universes best captain (this he knew because his cup said he was, and the power of the cup could not be argued with), could ever crash his ship.
Of course, he never once realised creating a human colony would be impossible, since he was alone on his ship.
Of course, this was all irrelevant, as if he’d took the time to look outside, something which he wanted to spare himself from doing for as long as he could, for he was too scared that some giant space insect would see him and steal his cake, he’d notice he’d crashed in the middle of the A1, crushing several dozen cars and causing countless deaths in the pile up that resulted from his crash landing.
Among those dead, was a father of four, who only moments before his death, while on a coach trip to London, had finally understood several things in the world that had previously gone unthought of. In his last moments, he’d finally worked out the cure to cancer, the meaning of life and a way in which he could make humans immortal. How unfortunate it was that seconds after these string of historic discoveries, the giant flaming body of the S.S Wafflehausen would crash down the motorway and crush the life out of the man.
But at this time, Skwizzal knew none of this. He was frantically eating enough food to give him energy for his oncoming hike in search for life, and preparing his robot companion, the schizophrenic robot Cyberfreak, for any needed hostility they might encounter.
Little did he know on top of this, about the great journey that he was about to embark on, which is probably for the best, for if he did, it was likely he would of spent the rest of his days hiding from the future in his ship.
Skwizzal was not one for adventure, and all the bothersome trouble it brought.
Another thing about space is its terribly random way of letting things happen. Though, putting it in that way almost makes it sound like the universe has some omnipotent power of driving events, which of course, we all know is absurd. Not even if you you believe in whatever invisible Man/Bear/Spoon/Spider monkey in the sky or any variation of this is can that be excepted .
However, it has been deemed that sometimes, something in space allows itself to do the most unexpected and impossible things.
Somewhere in the middle of a small, empty, relatively moist part of space, such an event happened. One second the little patch of space was sitting nice and quietly, the next, pop. From nowhere, with no reason, a little hole appeared. From this hole, erupted the most peculiar thing.
Penguins. Hundreds upon hundreds of party hat wearing, cake eating penguins.
Of course, the curiosity of such an event did not ever come from what the penguins were eating or doing, which may be the first logical conclusion anyone could come to, but was more accurately directed at why the bloody hell penguins were doing in the most abnormal of places.
Some people jumped straight to conclusions. Perhaps the penguins were on a nice trip out, and had simply sat down for a nice spot of tea and cake, while accidentally forgetting all reason to which they should wear their space suits. Some argued that a temporal rift had been caused somewhere for unknown reasons, and had unfortunately due to their sudden transdimensional pulling forgot to pack their warm clothing to keep themselves warm in the extremes of space.
Of course, these were all hideously wrong, and the true reason was all the more absurd. It happened, quite honestly, because it did.
No other explanation, no further answer, left fewer questions then that. It happened, and that was all there was too it. Everything was fine, and the universe went on with their lives.
Everyone except one person.
----------------------
Aboard his ship, the ace space explorer Skwizzal McCake sat, pondering. What he was pondering, no one knew, except him of course, for that was only reasonable to presume. In all likeliness, this entire Penguin/Cake fiasco waited heavily on his mind. Every neuron in his highly unstable brain was firing to one another, which wasn’t that uncommon for often it would be argued there weren’t that many to fire.
He pondered deeply, unmoving as he looked out from his captains chair, wearing his captains uniform and sipping from his Universes Best Captain (Because this cup says so) tea mug. He occasionally stirred to adjust his space monocle, or his scratch face, or brush his long blonde hair out of his face, but besides that, he did little beyond pondering.
Something about this whole penguin situation seemed totally retarded to him , but his brain, nor any part of his consciousness, had any idea what.
After several weeks of floating in space, resting little and eating only the necessary amounts of food, it finally hit him and finally he realised what had troubled his mind.
Penguins only ever eat fish!
At that conclusion, the ships onboard computer, who had been on it’s metaphorical toes for this great bit of wisdom, realised how pointless it’s existence was with such and idiot, and ordered every service robot on the ship to fry its neural core to end its pitiful existence. With that, the ship veered hard to its left, and descended onto a small, insignificant planet.
----------------------
When Skwizzal awoke, everything was a mess. He shouted at the ships computer to clean up the mess, but then he remembered the ship had committed suicide. Damn Vista Version 4000.12 AI. Picking himself up, he dusted off his monocle, and searched for his Sonic Cakefork. In this age, it was much more normal to have a screwdriver or some other useful tool with sonic capabilities, but Skwizzal liked cake, so he could never be too far from needing his trusty Sonic Cakefork.
When he found it, he proceeded to climb over the clutter in search of something to eat, which was ultimately very easy, since in every room Skwizzal had installed a food dispenser, so he was never too far away from a refreshing ham sammich or slice of cherry chocolate cake.
Taking that, and a can of energy drink, he decided his best move was to go outside, and see what kind of hell hole he’d landed on, before trying to ultimately create a human colony. This seemed like the only reasonable way since he had replaced the Emergency Beacon on his ship with a self destruct mechanism in case someone stole his ship then crashed it. It had never really occurred to him that he, the universes best captain (this he knew because his cup said he was, and the power of the cup could not be argued with), could ever crash his ship.
Of course, he never once realised creating a human colony would be impossible, since he was alone on his ship.
Of course, this was all irrelevant, as if he’d took the time to look outside, something which he wanted to spare himself from doing for as long as he could, for he was too scared that some giant space insect would see him and steal his cake, he’d notice he’d crashed in the middle of the A1, crushing several dozen cars and causing countless deaths in the pile up that resulted from his crash landing.
Among those dead, was a father of four, who only moments before his death, while on a coach trip to London, had finally understood several things in the world that had previously gone unthought of. In his last moments, he’d finally worked out the cure to cancer, the meaning of life and a way in which he could make humans immortal. How unfortunate it was that seconds after these string of historic discoveries, the giant flaming body of the S.S Wafflehausen would crash down the motorway and crush the life out of the man.
But at this time, Skwizzal knew none of this. He was frantically eating enough food to give him energy for his oncoming hike in search for life, and preparing his robot companion, the schizophrenic robot Cyberfreak, for any needed hostility they might encounter.
Little did he know on top of this, about the great journey that he was about to embark on, which is probably for the best, for if he did, it was likely he would of spent the rest of his days hiding from the future in his ship.
Skwizzal was not one for adventure, and all the bothersome trouble it brought.
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