The Space Ark Lollipop

I am suddenly reminded of making ovens and such from paper and tape for my teenage mutant ninja turtles action figures, so they could live comfortably in the dollhouse.

7

"I am suddenly reminded of making ovens and such from paper and tape for my teenage mutant ninja turtles action figures," Amarie was saying as she whizzed around the remodelled cave with her Amazospringer creating wall hangings and lampshades and stoneware chairs. "It was so they could live comfortably in the dollhouse. I never knew such construction experience might one day have such an application now that I am marooned on a planet far from my little house in Fjordianlandia on the Skattykatzian coast. Not much application, of course."

"I'm just loving this electropencil," Nora said gaily as she created an inexplicable drawing on a wall Ringo had planed flat for her. "This must be the best demonstration of my art ever. This electropencil Ringo lent me is the best ever."

"I use it for taking field notes usually," Ringo said humbly. "I never knew it would be used in such a brilliant potential artwork, Nora."

"Do you know what I'm trying to depict in it, Ringee?"

"Not at all - that's how I know it must be High Art."

"Ringee?" Blue piped up from where he sat on an rockware armchair writing up alll sorts of interesting rules and regulations in his own notebook, sometimes crossing things out in consternation, and then, with bouts of utmost enthusiasm, suddenly writing down new brilliant ideas for the perfect society under law he was devising. "Ringee!!!! That sounds so dorky!"

"Go fuck yourself," was Nora's predictable rejoinder (predictable if you know Nora at all, that is).

"Why should I?" Blue bit back, for though he was fond of Nora he also knew by now she could be quite an irascible rabbit at times. Not a furry rabbit, a bitey one, or, maybe, a furry bitey one. "Why should I go fuck myself, Miss Nora bitey rabbit!"

"No one else is going to," Nora shot back like a shot. (Not like a shotgun but like a lasergun, which is quite a different beast, as all you science fiction lovers will know).

Blue became very cynical. "Well, maybe I should just go outside and let those horrid planetary carnivores eat me all up then, right down to my last bone!"

"Oh sweet Eru! Bone!" Amarie expostulated. "My, that sounded so masosubmissivepsychosexual, Blue! Frankly, no wonder none of us wants to bonk you."

"Yeah!" Nora hissed hissedly. "You filthy metrosexual!"

Blue grinned sourly and addressed Ringo.

"So what's your view on all this Mister Trollhunter Herohobbit fom Upcrackenberg, Herring Province?"

"Don't ask me, I don't even know yet if I'm gay, heterosexual or bisexual."

"You better be purely heterosexual, Ringo," said Amarie with school mistressly severity.

"Yeah!" Nora growled.

"Um... yes... indeed...." Ringo answered as best he could, he being a straight forward military type not used to intellectual debates of this nature. "Err... I guess I best get going -- if you want me to explore a bit before nightfall... you know... and all....." Ringo quickly slung the doublywoober over his shoulder, glad they had not brought the monowoober, which being a woober made for desert conditions, would have been absolutely useless in the jungle outside.

"And make sure you don't get killed out there," Nora warned him as she gazed at the font of his tight Fjordianlandian Military Elite shorts and at his splendid thighs sprouting like splendid thighs from them. "You're our only hope of propagating the hobbit race on this planet."

"Yes, be careful," Amarie said in a motherly tone - well, motherly kinda. You know, the kind of tone your mother would have if she was just about to give you a practical demonstration of inclusive sexual intercourse.

Blue frowned and thought a dark and cynical thought. "Well," thought he. "If Ringo does go and get devoured by some horrid carnivore, then I'll be the only male hobbit on this planet!" And the thought gave him much sinister pleasure as he eyed Amarie and Nora up and down surreptiously. "Yes, with Ringo gone, I'll be King of the Planet --- well, at least High Judge." And he let out a sinister giggle under his breath; and a very sinister metrosexual sinister giggle it was! And then he had another very cynical thought after that. "Then let's see who'll be making the beds and fluffing up the pillows, hey! ... Hee hee hee... ... Hey! That's pretty good...." and he wrote it down thus: Bed making: Nora. Pillow fluffing: Amarie.

Yes, dear reader, things were not getting any better!    



to be continued....

8


Ringo Herring's every nerve was twingeing with edginess. He had been a military man since Space Cadets and he had done all the Space Cadet training and then gone on to do quite a deal of fighting on planets all over the Universe, and he was never complacent. The wild creatures in the jungle were keeping their distance, having seen him use his doublywoober to great effect several times already - using only 'stun' mode, mind, as he was by no means an environmental terrorist. Ringo wasn't afraid of fear and he was fearful as he brushed through the exotic (to him) undergrowth, for he knew that fear kept you alive and every hero (who wasn't dead) knew to use fear to their advantage: it heightened senses, sprung your reflexes, jangled your impulses, supercharged your ego, and therefore kept you alert. He was too experiened to be unafaraid of fear; yes, to be fearless was to be complacent, and Ringo what's more had learned (through much trial and error) to never be complacent about complacency - it kept you alive (not being complacent, that is).

Because of the height of his alert heighteness, he suddenly became aware of the approaching materialization almost before any of his usual senses detected it. Thighs twitching, he threw himself behind a fallen log and peered carefully into a clearing. Almost instantly, if not, indeed, a moment before, there came a whoop whoop whoop sound, which reminded him of an old telescreenshow he used to watch between miltary decorum classes at the Skattykatzenberg Space Marine Academy.

"Amazing! That Blue Police Box is just like the one in the old show!" Ringo hissed. He watched in amazement as a door of the peculiar Police Box opened and out stepped the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Behind her stepped a rather handsome man who looked like James Bond (Ringo liked old Spy movies too).

"Well, you can't tell me now, dear Petty," the beautiful woman was saying, "that these high healed hiking boots wouldn't come in handy sooner or later."

"Yes - but you didn't have to buy seven pairs - or buy all those other shoes. We wasted six hours in that shop!"

"Tush! One never wastes time in a shoe shop. And seven colours for seven pairs. Who knows what the decor will be on any given planet, irrespective of which dimension you're in."

The man who looked like Sean Connery (yes, Ringo knew his James Bonds!) exhaled a mighty sigh. "if you say so, Doctor. If you say so."

Ringo was even more amazed now. "The Doctor is a woman!" he exclaimed. "Well, whatever next?"

And, dear reader, may well he ask.



The End....

or beginning....  

Ol' Anon has done it again - merging his Universe into One Great Story - and certainly not because he's lazy (like certain other writers - one in particular).

I think I like where Ol' Anon is going with this, as there is surely never enough stuff about shoes in Doctor Who tales. Perhaps the Doctor's Scottish Companion may become acquainted with some genuinely 'fresh' and 'intriguing' Scientific (shoe) Ideas. Frankly, the intricasies and pure scientic exploration of shoes has been totally neglected by Who writers, which is quite surprising when your usual pulpish Who writer (unlike your quality Ol' Anon type) are mostly Gay (apparently) and might have at least some small interest in shoes. Fingers crossed we'll be gretting some qulaity Who writing, Julia. Nice change if true. Not expecting any sea changes, mind, but an occasional shoe change is more than overdue. Ol' Anon, of course, is not your usual Who cum NotP type of writer as we already know. Meaning no disrespect to Gays or Petty, of course. They do their best after all, these hacks, when they're not being lazy that is

{{Never did trust neeps }}

A doubly what ?

{{{{{Must be some New York device to make sure your sporran is extra secure- very wise Halfy when going out for a bevvy - you don't want to find yourself drunk,merry and buying rounds willy-nilly }}}}}}

Has been a while Halfy

( better re read )

See Doctor Who and the Wankermen of Shoevius