The Space Ark Lollipop

1



In the chillest deepest most remote sectors of Deep Space, you can't hear the murmur of a Space Ark MkVII's photonic motors, but only if you're in a deep cybernautic sleep because Space Ark MkVII's photonic motors are quite noisy as a matter of fact. For the past thirty nine years, the Space Ark Lollipop, an Explorator Class III, had been traversing the long reaches of the Arabella Cluster in the Zooamorphical Galaxy, the megaship's autobrain had been navigating in the direction of a region where a living planet might be found. It was July the 8th in 20051 by the Forumshire Reckoning - six hundred hours to be exact (Forumshire Time).  

The plasmamodal alarm bell rang in Lieutenant Orwell McOdo's pod just as the wakey-wakey gas began to puff into his pod. Shortly after, Orwell threw open the pod lid in a very manly way and yawned and stretched. He looked at his atomic wristwatch and said, "That's thirty nine years this time. Can't say I'm not well rested." And he sent out a manly chortle from his barrel chest at his plummy joke, only mildly displeased that no one had heard it for he was own biggest fan and comfortable with his sense of humour. In all things he thought himself a total Power Ranger in fact; and all the crew agreed.

"I nude uh droonk," came a familiar refrain from a neighbouring pod.

"Well, Staff Sergeant McCracken. Awake at last I see. Quick now, help me into my uniform. And watch where you put your hands this time," and Orwell let out a marvelous guffaw which Staff Sergeant McKracken did not deign to share. "Well, dooen poot my hunds whereas ya pleeze to poot thum thun, Loohatendant."

"I prefer you not to call me that, McCracken," Orwell said. "It's Lew-ten-nant!"

"Aye sed wot eye sed und thartz thar ways it iz, Loohatendant! I canna hulp me theek Scootish broogg, Loo-ha-ten-dant!"

"As you will."

After dressing, the two made their way up to the bridge via the televator. Once there, Orwell pushed a few buttons: the one's marked individually with stickers: "This one." "This one." "This one." A neighbouring sticky note on the deck console said: "Don't fuck it up this time, McOdo. By Order of Captain Kirk-Carrot."

"I'm still getting blamed for a few costly errors, I see," Orwell grumbled as he pushed the three buttons and the Space Ark Lollipop's computer systems began to run their safety checks. "I mean, so what if we lost the third orbiter craft - and a few peasants back on Neptune - and we had to repair those enginge rings back before we left Saturn. Every new Lieutenant makes a few mistakes."

"Thar woz thart Mars bizzynuss. And then that uccideunt on thar moon. And even that catastroophic explooshon on our vurry oon Arth befoor takeorv. Thart woz joost in our oon soolar sustum, Loohatendant. Und itz why yoor a loo hatendant uz well az a loohatendant."

"Looking after sanitation is a very important job, you know."

"Aye, eye noo. Itzsumpin thar practicool crew doo kwite wool wizoot ya impoot!"

"What? Are you saying I do't make enough input? You think I should be cleaning toilets do you? Me? A Lieutenant. A descendant of a long line of McOdo's, mariners all."

"I wood nefer dream ov givin yoo a job sooch as thart. Bust juoost yoo tull others wot to do."

"Yes, I'm very good at that. Mind, I wish people would listen more."

"Bust leaf eet aloon, Loohatendant. Thungs are going swummunglee."

"Are they?" Orwell said pleasantly surprised. "Oh good. Shows you what a good job I'm doing."

"Yus, Sur.  Noo, see thar. Thar compootars harv doon thar joob. Noo maintenunce roids required. Thars been noo meeteeorr dumuge or soon strikes. Wee cun wake the rust ov thar croo and start oop owl surch mode un proocedures."

A short while after, crew began to arrive on the bridge according to procedure. The next task was to send out probes to search the solar system they had found themselves in. The first crew were techicians. Then First Lieutenat Halfred Fysicsfreke arrived a few minutes later.

"All going ship shape, McCracken, I see," that rather sharp looking Electronics Expert said. "Old Loohatendant Fuckup hasn't managed to fuck up this task has he? The admiral had to put three notes on the relevant buttons didn't he? Ho ho."

"Orls wull, Lieutenant Fysicsfrook. Intrucshoons fooloowed to a tee."

"You were with him just in case, of course?"

"As per intrucshoons, yus, Lieutenant."

"Hey," Orwell said tartly. "Did you say 'Lieutenant' just then, McCracken?"

"Aye deed, Loohatendant."

"And rightly so," Hafred put in helpfully. "I am a Lieutenant, after all. Only proper drill, what. Or did you hear I was getting promoted or something. Ho ho. Call me Admiral if you like. Ho ho."

"Not while my carrots aint gone to seed," Admiral Nelson Kirk-carrot drawled as he came up behind them. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Fysicfreke!"

"Yes, Sir," Halfred said - though Orwell detected a touch of angst in his tone.

"Now, have the probes been sent out yet?"

Halfred and Orwell looked bemused. Staff Sergeant McCracken answered: "Aye, Udmural. Sent oot while theez fine guntlemun woz torking orificer mutters."

"Good man, McCracken. Petty isn't it? Petty McCracken. My great great great great great Granddaddy knew yours I seem to remember. Back in Old Needlehole. Even saved his life your forbear did. Nice to know you're family is still serving your betters all these years later. You'll make Sanitation Lieutenant yet. Farnkly, you couldn't do any worse than the current one."

The Admiral sauntered off to do whatever high ranking offcials do when they're not bothering workers, and as soon as he had gone, Orwell asked, "I thought I was the Sanitation Lieutenant."

"Aye, Loohatendant. Ov corse yoo arr," McCracken smiled. But it did not seem a very nice smile.  





to be continued.....

Hee hee, love it !

sadly this was running in my head.........................



Kinda calls for it ?

As usual Ol' Anon has no idea where he's taking this. Oh well it'll be a circuit breaker for The Jimmy. Mind you, i don't know why he needs to be working on two at once, the kook.

Ooooh *reads*

I just want to express my gratitude that in the whole discourse on the pronunciation of lieutenant, the alleged "lef-tenant" option was not mentioned once.

Orwell wrote:As usual Ol' Anon has no idea where he's taking this. Oh well it'll be a circuit breaker for The Jimmy. Mind you, i don't know why he needs to be working on two at once, the kook.

I can empathize with that.

2



The ship - to cut a cliche, or mash one, not sure, anyway - the ship was a hive of activity, with all the crew as busy as bees; the people were buzzing, not like bees, no, not like bees, buzzing with excitement, which is not to say that bees don't buzz with excitement, they are people too in their own way, but most think the buzzing of bees is from their wings moving quickly, and due to certain aeronautical principles and air movement; indeed, to extend the cliche, the crew were humming as well - bees, of course, don't actually hum strictly speaking - but the crew of the Space Ark Lollipop were definitely and unambiguously humming; humming along to Mama Mia which was still popular, as you would expect, 20 thousand years after its first release by that fabuluous band, ABBA, and now being piped through the spaceship surround system.

Rear Admiral Banks was in a jovial mood in his stateroom as his short skirted helper-women and short skirted Scots auxilleries swarmed around his stateroom plasmotable serving his breakfast. He was a little overweight, a bit sluggish, but his mind and hands were still nimble, and all thirteen of his digits were flexible (or quite stiff) as need demanded. Behind his back his crew called him Bugra Banks, and all the crewmen and women watched their backs when he was around - which is always wise to do with Rear Admirals (apparently).  

"Warrant Officer Figg," he was yelling. "Didn't I say I prefer you to lean further across when you're serving my breakfast!"

"Well, it's too late now Sir, your leg of bacon is where it is and there's no point repeating the procedure now."

"Insubordinant woman. See me in my private quarters immediately after breakfast."

"Yes Sir," Warrant Officer Julia Figg answered dutifully. (Dear reader, note that when you're about ten zillion light years from home and you're on a moon sized space ark, a Rear Admiral is like a God Emperor, and they usually metamorphorsize into a great worm sooner or later, having been a little worm to begin with).  

"Oh yes, and bring Nurse Azriel with you. There's a good man." And the Rear Admiral immediately and happily tucked into his bacon. With mouth full - and looking uncannily like Jubba (or Jabba) the Hutt - he cried: "Have any of the probes come back, Amarie?"

Captain Amarie Diaphanous, head of Bugra's elite Fjordian Space Troopers, pursed her lips delicately and carefully asked, "You mean, are they back from the subatomic electromatic sanitizers?"

"What? I'm talking about the droid probes we sent out to search for habitable planets"!"

"Sorry, Sir, my mistake," Amarie sighed. "No, not as yet..."

Just then, an electronplamsmifyier sent the ship's nucleonic buzzer off.

"Ha! That's the positive alert-beep of a successful droid returning!" Bugra yelled. "We've found a habitable planet at last! Come here Officegirl Nora and I'll give you my kiss of success."

Officegirl Nora cast him a sharp glance as she poured his coffee across the stateroom. "Sorry, Sir. I'm feeling a bit sick at the moment...." and she sped off to the latrines.  

"That young woman does that a lot. Must get the medics onto it," Bugra grinned. "Might be psychological too. Maybe it's time she visited me in my private quarters. It's like she's a bit coy of me. Needs to see me for the great big cuddly teddy bear I really am."

"It might be something in the water," Julia Figg said casually.  

"Why do you say that, Figg?"

"Well, Sir, it's just that I think most of us are feeling ill just now... And as to Azzy and I...."

"No, no, no - an order's an order. You more experienced crew members are match toughened and know what it looks like."

And that, of course, was only too true.



to be continued....

Archet Bugle wrote:Awake at last I see. Quick now, help me into my uniform.

In Space it all comes down to Uniforms

3

After attending the Rear Admiral's quarters and rendering service there, Julia and Azriel showered (not together, of course) and then went to the dispensary for something to settle their stomachs. After that, they went up to the Eve* area of the poop deck to get a view of the new planet the Space Ark Lollipop was warpspeeding toward.

"You know, Azzy," Julia said nostalgically as they took in a rather splendid view of the amazingy interesting solar system, never explored by hobbits before, warpspeeding past. "I seem to remember that there once was a time when women were equal with men and we could have said 'no' to creeps like Bugra."

"What millenium was that exactly?" Azriel asked, genuinely surprised. "Fancy that! Women equal with men. When?"

"Oh back in the Twenty First Century sometime. I read it in a book, I think."

"Oh you and your Mills and Boon, Jules. That was never true. I guess there may have been a time when lip-service was paid to the concept - and some of us are always deluding ourselves or allowing men to delude us, but.... no... purely ridiculous. You're such a romantic and such a dreamer. As if women were ever actually equal."

"What about Emily Pankhurst and Germaine Greer? Are you telling me they weren't equal? They demanded equality and at least - according to the old scrolls - Germaine got it. You call her a myth?"

"Oh, no more than Helen of Troy and Marilyn Monroe. Didn't legendary Germaine get taken off to the colliseum in the end and fed to the lions? That's hardly being equal... Anyway that's ancient stuff. Oh I suppose one day in theory at least we might be genuinely equal, but if so, it'll take a little while more..."

"What? It's already been fifty thousand years since Priscilla the Rhesus monkey became a hobbit!"

"If something is truly worthwhile, it will happen eventually," Azriel said comfortingly.

[Which was a rather placid response when you think of the real Azriel and her modern attitudes on feminism and fairness (which are quite similar things, apparently). Mind you, I guess if you get to be an absolutely beautiful woman in any story, you don't mind fat odorous patriarchs licking your toes or ejaculating on your face, especially if he's supplying your drugs, and in this story Azriel is definitely hot, hot, hot!]

"Oh sweet Son of Eru! Will ye please stuff straw up my nose!" Julia expostulated. "Fifty thousand years isn't long enough for you?"

"Oh that's just a single blink of Eru's good eye, chronologically speaking. I really don't know why you progressive types are so impatient, Julia, I really dont."

Nora the Officegirl sidled up to them on the poop. "Did you two just come from Bugra's quarters?" she asked with an ashen face. "I hear he does some..."

"Best you not ask questions or speculate about it," Julia said kindly. "I do suggest, however, that you volunteer to go down with the advance crew and, if the planet is habitable, sneak off with a survival kit and don't come back. Bugra's private company is not for the faint hearted."

"You and Azzy - and Staff Sergeant McCracken for that matter - often get called in there. Surely, there are worse things that can happen..."

"If you've got a cast iron constitution," Julia told her gently, "and incredibly durable body parts, and an insatiable hunger for a certain kind of drug.... Well, you make do, don't you."

"Look, sweetie, Julia and I are from a different generation to you. We're hard as nails. In fact we grew up in the Saturnian Discodrug Era," Azriel put in kindly, "and we were already addicted to the drugs Bugra now supplies and which you can't get anywhere on the Ark - except from Bugra... Honestly, you don't want to go that way. I mean, the drugs are incredibly addictive, and while they make the day seem far far better in our wake-phases, they don't completely eradicate the Bugra-nausea, as we call it; for that we attend the dispensary afterwards."

Just then, a man in a very attractive kilt walked toward them.

"Well, look who it is!" Julia smiled. "My best friend in the world!"

"Hullo darls," Staff Sergeant McCracken said as he came across the poop and gave Julia a rather passionate brotherly tongue-kiss. He then gave Azriel one as well, if only because she was so hot,hot,hot in this story. "Und hoo iz thus yoong und gorgeoss meaty porshon? Oh eye think itz thrat yoong Noora. Eye'm right, aren't eye! Orl za croo are torkin aboot you. Tasty, they sayz - scroomy." McCracken's face suddenly clouded and he became thoughtful. "You noo, itz nut ruly me bizynuss, boot eye noo ol Boogera huz an eye oon yoo. Iv eye waz yoo eye'd voolinteer for tha advonce pardty headin doon to tha plunet..."

"Oh my goodness!" Nora exclaimed. "You're the twelth person to tell me that this morning!" And Nora ran off the poop immediately and down to the volunteering section.

"Poor thing," Azriel opined as she watched the fast moving baby doll on her way to volunteer for what was usually one of the Lollipop's most dangerous jobs. "With any luck some kind of wild life will eat her before Bugra gets the chance." And even those tough old birds (however good looking) shuddered at the thought.  



to be continued...



*Also known colloquially as the 'non-restricted area'.

Oh I say, golly gosh chaps, I think Ilike my character, ( dirty slut ) Finally get some sauce on me chips !

Everyone likes a woman who appreciates being a beautiful drug addicted sexual plaything - even thirty thousand years from now.

4

"I could help out as the Official Photographer," Nora said, trying not to sound like she was trying to run away from Bugra. "You know, take snaps of the new flora and fauna to be found."

Captain Ringo Herring looked up from his crew log, pencil poised in the air. "You could have but Sergeant Rudy Feckleback is doing that."

"I've heard he broke his leg though."

"You don't say. Well then, I guess you're in. No time to find another photographer now."

Just to be safe, Nora hurried off and found Sergeant Rudy Feckleback and invited him behind a pillar where she (kind of accidentally) broke his leg. She got back just in time to walk up the plank of the Explorer Shuttle with a bevy of tall blue-eyed Fjordianlandian Space Troopers. There were several of them, including Amarie Diaphonous whose rank I can't recall just now. And Captain Ringo Herring, of course. And Seaman Third Class Blue Pumpkin-Fisk was there as well - Ringo's distant cousin. They were both handsome dapper fellows with intelligent angular faces and thighs to die for. Nora knew them from her hometown on Earth, Nova Skattykatzenberg. Ringo was a well oiled military man of great prowess. Blue was thinner and less sexually potent, but he was said to be a brilliant lawyer. But why a brilliant lawyer had joined up as a Seaman Third Class didn't sound all that brilliant to Nora.  

Amarie took up the controls of the craft and after Nora - being the youngest and therefore most junior - had shut and snibbed the door behind her, Amarie cranked up the motor with a cough and stutter (it being one of the older models) and put her foot down gently - very gently - on the accelerater, and the Shuttle eased out from the hangar and beyond the forcefields of the Space Ark Lollipop with Amarie's steady hands on the steering wheel.

It wasn't long and they were descending through the planet's earth-like atmosphere.
   
"This is all so very exciting," Blue was saying as he sat in a booster seat at the back of the shuttle with Nora. "I hope something really exciting or tragic happens so I can write a song about it."

"I only hope there's some half decent wildlife down there," Nora said. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm running away, and frankly I don't want to be mauled to death and eaten by some alien creature."

"Strictly speaking, it'll be you who is the alien," Blue said in that rather annoying 'look what I know' manner lawyers have. "But anyway, Nora, why are you running away?"  

"Because old Bugra wants me to go to his private quarters - and while no one will tell me exactly what he does in there - I fear the worse."

"That old bastard needs his face slapped," Blue grated, instantly angry. "Don't tell anyone, but I only came on this trip so I can bump him off."

"Bum him off!"

"Bump. B.U.M.P. You know, murder him. You see, about fifteen years ago, he invited my Mother and Sister to the Bahamas and when he left them there they were working as five dollar hookers on a banana plantation. They still refuse to come home. I'll never forgive him for that."

"Ah! So that's the real reason you signed up!"

Blue nodded conspiratorarily. "Of course it is. I'm far too clever by half to be a mere Seaman Third Class. The trouble is, that brilliant and cunning bitch Amarie and her loyal Troopers love old Bugra to death and watch his back like it's something worth watching. Who'd credit it? It's a sad story really. Not even Amarie likes it."

"Shush now - quiet - we're coming in to land. Oh look at all the flora. There! Through the windcreen! Looks like a very hot and steamy jungle, I'm afraid!"

"And incredibly sweaty one would expect," Amarie grumbled as she gently pressed the foot brake to gently bring the shuttle down.



to be continued.....  

"Well, look who it is!" Julia smiled. "My best friend in the world!"

yeahright

"Hullo darls," Staff Sergeant McCracken said as he came across the poop and gave Julia a rather passionate brotherly tongue-kiss. He then gave Azriel one as well,

If I was a coarse country girl, living off the land, smiling at farm hands, riding horses with gay abandonment of me drawers, I would have said that you got off lightly Figgs old bean Look how the sentence is written old thing ? * gulp* Apparently Ive been "given one", which, in the old blarney doesnt mean Sainsburys points

You wish.... I'll have you know this is in the Wholesome Tales school of rollicking romances, Azzy.

oh thats alright then *phew*
Should have know The Archet Bugle would'nt stoop to mirk, mirth & filth, not unlike that other paper News of The Pure ? Who only tells the truth when it cant make something up, Salvation is here !

Hey! I am contractually obliged on pain of pain to say that everything published by Pure Publications has been rigorously checked by Angmar and Sons legal department to make sure the truth is told, or at the very least that they cant be sued for printing it, which is the important bit.

Love it!

And good to see someone is around to keep Nora from being eaten by the, indigenous, I hasten to add, flora and fauna. (Or maybe it's the other way around. )

Orwell is..... floral ? ....

Dunno about Orwell but I've long had my suspicions about Odo.

5


"You forgot your camerapictuermachine?" Ringo expostulated in surprise. "Nora - it's Nora isn't it? - yes, Nora - I have to say you haven't got off to a good start."

"Oh leave her alone," Amarie said, for the young woman's pinched expression drew pity from her. "She's young. First time on another planet too, I guess. Especially a totally new unexplored one. We'll make her useful. She can carry the doublywoober. Now, Ringo, Blue and Nora, grab a survival knapkit each. You other Fjordian Elites on board can stay on board and play board games or something while we go for a quick explore. But make sure one of you stand near the door to let us back in quick smart if anything goes wrong."

And very soon after, the four intrepid Fjordian Elites (strictly speakuing Nora wasn't yet, but lets not quibble), were exiting by the door. The clunk of the flyscreen behind her gave Nora a queer sense of something or other of a psychological kind, and she sighed. She hoped she would find a life form or two she could friend up with, because she certainly didn't like the idea of returning to the Lollipop Ark and a likely rendervous with Rear Admiral Odo.

It was a strange jungle they were in. All sorts of undergrowth; upright trunky growths; twining flora creepy things; and stuff on the sweaty ground of an organic nature. In some ways it was like Earth for the underbrush looked like shrubs; the upright trunky growths, trees; the twining flora creepy things, groundcovers and creepers; and the on-ground stuff, humus. But all quite different to anything on Earth, of course, as this is a Science Fiction tale.

"We'll go this way between those silver-grey-green leaf-like-bearing bush-like life forms," Amarie instructed her crew and pressed that way with Ringo at her rear, Blue at Ringo's rear, and Nora at Blue's rear. Every now and then the bright red and the bright pink suns of the planet peeped through the queer multicoloured foliage overhead, casting the four intrepid Fjordianlandian Elites in peculiar cast. They looked like aliens really, and on that planet, they were. (Blue was right earlier in the tale, not that we like to mention that).

They had been walking through thick planet flora for about fifteen minutes when an urgent message came over Ringo's microphoneradar. It was the shuttle crew.

"We're being attacked by an alien life form. Oh Illuvatar! it's big.... What? Hey? Oh, Corporal Jarks says it's gigantic.. Oh Sweet Eru, it's got great tentacly things and has just swept the whole shuttle up toward it's great big mouth! Oh my Lord! The teeth are gigantic! .. What's that, Jarks? Oh you're right - it's mouth is ginormous... Aaaaaarrrrghhhhhhh!"

Then communication was broken off, quite abruptly, if not rudely.

Amarie's face went pale - and her face already being pale, it was almost bloodless. "Quick, Ringo! Contact the Lollipop Ark and get a rescue shuttle heading our way!

"Oh Sweet Eru eat my Spaceboots!" Ringo cried. "Look! Over there. Above those purplish-green tree-like life forms! It looks like a surface to space missile, but of exotic sort. Looks old fashioned somehow, but surely effective. It's heading right for the Lollipop Ark, I do believe."

"Oh Lord Illuvatar, One and Only!" cried Blue. "They'll have the defence screens down - I mean, they were doing a maintenance check when we launched about an hour ago. They can't possibly be finished yet!"

There was a sudden pin-head sized explosion beyond the deep purple-hazed sky above. Judging by the size and colour, and roughly calculating the distance from the planet surface and the Ark's likely position in space, they knew the Lollipop was no more.

"Hell's bells!" Nora cried in shock.

"Thank Eru we thought to bring the doublywoober," Blue said with fatalistic humour.

to be continued....

That's certainly a turnip for the boots.

6

"Well, we find ourselves in a pretty pass," Amarie was saying manfully as they huddled in a cave with Ringo at the entrance, lasergun poised to shoot the horrible jungle carnivores that had pursued them here if they were as unwise as to try and enter. They could hear the creatures growling and moaning and wailing and sighing in the leafy fauna outside, too wary now to come at them, having tasted a blast or two from Ringo's handy weapon already.  

"We're marooned of course," Blue said helpfully. "Thirty trillion spacemiles from Earth with no shuttle and no Space Ark Lollipop..."

"And no Admiral Odo," Nora said.

"True, it's not all bad," Blue had to agree. "But it's bad enough, you would have to agree with that."

"Blue, please be as kind as to shut up," Amarie sighed. "Now, it could be said that things are somewhat difficult for us, being the only hobbits - as far as we know - in this neck of the universe, but at least there are two sexes, so I guess we can at least, with careful planning, continue the race with an eye to avoid inbreeding wherever possible. Ringo must be the worker here, I think."

"But what about me?" Blue expostulated with some annoyance.

"Yes, a lawyer by trade, I believe -- and Ringo --- a trained military hobbit who is strong, robust, handsome, long thighed, and trained to survive all sorts of desperate situations."

"But what about brains? What about leadership?"

"Well, I'll look after those things, and breed intelligent children to boot - with Ringo's help," Amarie said with a smile for Ringo; clearly the thought by no means displeased her.

"And I can breed creative children with Ringo's help," Nora said, with a smile too, as the thought by no means displeased her either.      

"But what about children with brilliant legal minds?" Blue contested.

Ringo looked him up and down thoughtfully from the cave mouth. "Well, we could try, Blue, but I don't like our chances."

"Let's not trouble ourselves just yet," Amarie said. "First we must empty our knapkits and sort out our tools and plan the abodes and barricade we must build."

"What say we build a door across this cave mouth first," Ringo suggested. "And then use our lasercutter to carve this cave into a salubrious abode. On quick inspection, we could turn this into both a fortress and a compact and snug palace."

"I could look after the decorating and whip up some paintings too," Nora offered brightly.

"And I could make comfy beds, pillows, sheets and other things - like electroplasmic ovens and portaloos - from the local flora and rocks with my amazospringer," Amarie commented decisively.

"And I'll draw up some house rules for discussion," Blue said, trying to be positive too - though he was already missing the book on Fjordianlandian Accounting Laws and Regulations he had left behind on the Space Ark Lollipop and fearing there was no one else on this planet who cared two bits for Fjordianlandian Accounting Laws and Regulations.

He was right, of course.

to be continued...

I've been caught without a doublywoober before. Thank Eru they have one, or this story would have no hopes of a happy ending.

It's the Ember Island Players all over again.