The Cellar - View Single Post

11-07-2005, 05:11 AM

Thanks to Zip's quick thinking, our heroes make it to the airport with minutes to spare in front of the extremely stinkeriferous Lewinsky-mobile.

Plthjinx jumps out of the limo ahead of the rest (after all, airports are HIS turf!) "That way, everybody," he shouts and points to a darkened hanger with a LARGE sign reading "AIR CRAFT MAINTENANCE - VERY BORRRRING!" Underneath these words is a second, smaller notice which reads: WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL WILL BE SUBJECT TO SEIZURE OF THEIR CAT AND GRANDMOTHER BY THE CIA. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!

Clodfobble objected, "I HATE being bored! Looks like there's a nice 747 over there on runway 9 that we could hi-jack. I bet it would be very comfy, too."

But Sheila/Phtrethnog exclaimed, "Hey! I'd love to see them even try to do anything with "my" cat or my grandmother! I'd tell them that I owned the feline which adores black plastic objects. What was left of the CIA after the cat got through with them would then have to take on my sweet old grannie who has 72 tentacles, 8 heads, teeth like razor blades, and is bored as hell back in the old alien's home on Alpha Centauri. You should see what she can do with a crochet hook! On second thought, you don't even want to know what her crochet projects look like!"

Bruce gives Ptlhjinx a look which is a mixture of outright admiration and frank disbelief. "You’re not telling me that you can fly that thing, are you?"

The brash pilot grins and says, "Can Cyclefrance ride a tricycle? Of course, I can fly it!"

This assurance is good enough for the gang of Dwellers who make a dash toward the hanger, following hot on Ptlhjinx's heels.

Good thing Cyclefrance and Sunsparkz had made it there first. Upon their arrival they had observed the CIA agent who was supposed to be doing his turn on guard duty being beckoned toward the janitor’s closet by Lewinsky no. 7. “Mr. Libby told me to tell you that I suck but I don’t swallow,” no.7 informed the mesmerized agent. “Wanna see?” Obviously deeply concerned for the threat such an action might pose to National Security, the agent had unbuckled his belt and followed the Lewinsky into the closet.

Thinking fast, Cyclefrance grabbed the distillation blaster back from SunSparkz and aimed...

Then he remembered to turn the blaster round in the direction of the janitor’s closet. Shall we say that the agent and the Lewinsky went out with a bang?

A few minutes later a mysterious aircraft began to taxi at an alarming rate of speed down the airport’s main runway. This plane was no Valkyrie! Only Bruce and Ptlhjinx and maybe three other people on the face of earth knew that the thing was an Aurora.

The pilots and crews of the other aircraft waiting on the various airport runways knew only that they had been told that all takeoffs had been cancelled indefinately. The chief air traffic controller had just recieved a message that the CIA had his cat. No plane other than the Aurora would be cleared for take-off until he saw “Snookems” safe and sound with his own beady little eyes.

“Can I do a good imitation of a spook or what?” Busterb crowed excitely.

Sheila replied, “Almost as good as I can imitate being a D O G,” and rolled her eyes heavenward.

The Aurora quickly reached a cruising altitude of 21 miles and setled into a soothing speed of mach 5. Ptlhjinx’s voice came over the intercom. “this is your pilot speaking. I would like to thank you all for choosing to fly with Area 51 Airlines. We’ll be reaching Alpha Centauri in about 7 light years. Ground weather at Centauri Global Airport is predicted to be a mild drizzle of methane. We will have one brief stop in LJ’s backyard. Enjoy your flight!”

Clodfobble appeared walking down the aisle with a tray of dog bisquits and Cuervo which she handed out to each passenger.

Zippy apologized profusely to Cyclefrance for the mud puddle. Always the proper English gentleman, Cyclefrance accepted Zippy’s apology and a large dog bisquit from Clodfobble.

Meanwhile, back on the ground, the 6 remaining Lewinsky’s had piled into a phone booth to call the mother ship and were arguing with the operator about the area code. The operator put the Lewinsky’s on hold while she consulted with her supervisor and added a quick coat of polish to her nails. The operator thoughtfully switched on the phone hold muzak to entertain the Lewinsky’s as they waited. It was Sarah McLaughlin’s “Building a Mystery”...

11-07-2005, 05:11 AM	#14
marichiko Guest Posts: n/a	Thanks to Zip's quick thinking, our heroes make it to the airport with minutes to spare in front of the extremely stinkeriferous Lewinsky-mobile. Plthjinx jumps out of the limo ahead of the rest (after all, airports are HIS turf!) "That way, everybody," he shouts and points to a darkened hanger with a LARGE sign reading "AIR CRAFT MAINTENANCE - VERY BORRRRING!" Underneath these words is a second, smaller notice which reads: WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL WILL BE SUBJECT TO SEIZURE OF THEIR CAT AND GRANDMOTHER BY THE CIA. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! Clodfobble objected, "I HATE being bored! Looks like there's a nice 747 over there on runway 9 that we could hi-jack. I bet it would be very comfy, too." But Sheila/Phtrethnog exclaimed, "Hey! I'd love to see them even try to do anything with "my" cat or my grandmother! I'd tell them that I owned the feline which adores black plastic objects. What was left of the CIA after the cat got through with them would then have to take on my sweet old grannie who has 72 tentacles, 8 heads, teeth like razor blades, and is bored as hell back in the old alien's home on Alpha Centauri. You should see what she can do with a crochet hook! On second thought, you don't even want to know what her crochet projects look like!" Bruce gives Ptlhjinx a look which is a mixture of outright admiration and frank disbelief. "You’re not telling me that you can fly that thing, are you?" The brash pilot grins and says, "Can Cyclefrance ride a tricycle? Of course, I can fly it!" This assurance is good enough for the gang of Dwellers who make a dash toward the hanger, following hot on Ptlhjinx's heels. Good thing Cyclefrance and Sunsparkz had made it there first. Upon their arrival they had observed the CIA agent who was supposed to be doing his turn on guard duty being beckoned toward the janitor’s closet by Lewinsky no. 7. “Mr. Libby told me to tell you that I suck but I don’t swallow,” no.7 informed the mesmerized agent. “Wanna see?” Obviously deeply concerned for the threat such an action might pose to National Security, the agent had unbuckled his belt and followed the Lewinsky into the closet. Thinking fast, Cyclefrance grabbed the distillation blaster back from SunSparkz and aimed... Then he remembered to turn the blaster round in the direction of the janitor’s closet. Shall we say that the agent and the Lewinsky went out with a bang? A few minutes later a mysterious aircraft began to taxi at an alarming rate of speed down the airport’s main runway. This plane was no Valkyrie! Only Bruce and Ptlhjinx and maybe three other people on the face of earth knew that the thing was an Aurora. The pilots and crews of the other aircraft waiting on the various airport runways knew only that they had been told that all takeoffs had been cancelled indefinately. The chief air traffic controller had just recieved a message that the CIA had his cat. No plane other than the Aurora would be cleared for take-off until he saw “Snookems” safe and sound with his own beady little eyes. “Can I do a good imitation of a spook or what?” Busterb crowed excitely. Sheila replied, “Almost as good as I can imitate being a D O G,” and rolled her eyes heavenward. The Aurora quickly reached a cruising altitude of 21 miles and setled into a soothing speed of mach 5. Ptlhjinx’s voice came over the intercom. “this is your pilot speaking. I would like to thank you all for choosing to fly with Area 51 Airlines. We’ll be reaching Alpha Centauri in about 7 light years. Ground weather at Centauri Global Airport is predicted to be a mild drizzle of methane. We will have one brief stop in LJ’s backyard. Enjoy your flight!” Clodfobble appeared walking down the aisle with a tray of dog bisquits and Cuervo which she handed out to each passenger. Zippy apologized profusely to Cyclefrance for the mud puddle. Always the proper English gentleman, Cyclefrance accepted Zippy’s apology and a large dog bisquit from Clodfobble. Meanwhile, back on the ground, the 6 remaining Lewinsky’s had piled into a phone booth to call the mother ship and were arguing with the operator about the area code. The operator put the Lewinsky’s on hold while she consulted with her supervisor and added a quick coat of polish to her nails. The operator thoughtfully switched on the phone hold muzak to entertain the Lewinsky’s as they waited. It was Sarah McLaughlin’s “Building a Mystery”... Last edited by marichiko; 11-07-2005 at 05:17 AM.