Butterflies Are Changelings; Elephants are Changeless
So many years have passed since we first met. You, an infant, staring at us with those wide, wondrous eyes. You weren’t sure whether you should smile or cry, so you simply grimaced. How wonderful this was to parents who had spent nine months anticipating this moment despite months of pain, anguish, and hospitalization. Neither you nor I were expected to live, yet God in His infinite mercy kept us both, and now, we are still here, still loving, and still gazing with wondrous eyes at everything around us.
From Momma:
We work well together, Ivory. You, with your quiet, introspective nature, and I, with my spontaneous, self-reflective nature. You are understatement; I am overstatement. Yet this combination of characteristics makes us an effective team. I am the hare; you are the tortoise. You need me to prod you along, and I need you to suggest caution. I hope that we both are equipped to reach the goal.
Our family members have similar talents and interests. It takes all of us supporting one another to produce results. There is great joy in teamwork, and the years build strength and solidity.
Life has a way of carrying us along on a swift current to places we never dreamed could exist. While on this journey we see miraculous things while in the midst of experiencing sorrows and joys. Both of these states of being can strengthen us because what colors our view of the world is how we respond to our environment and beyond. If we have been nurtured it will show, just as mistreatment will. It is in the power of those around you to make a positive impact or a negative impact on your life. It has been my goal to not only do what is right by you, but also to live it out. There is no concept of do as I say; not as I act. There is a great responsibility to help you to attain those goals that are the fabric of your dreams. We all have a right to dream, and without vision there would be no hope. The butterfly in you hopes and dreams, and the elephant in you anchors and makes those dreams attainable.
The symbolism of the butterfly is that of metamorphosis, beauty, strength, and variety. The elephant symbolizes steadiness of character, fierceness, longevity, and fidelity. You possess traits that are a combination of both, even though they may seem to be opposites. You are infinitely unique, and the man who captures you for his own will be blessed.
Keep dreaming your dreams, and set your course on a sure current. Below: A gift of song from Mom and Dad.
The bridge of the ISP Grande Pollo is shaking from side to side. Not content with simply dancing to the music, the crew, with Captain Coco at the lead, has formed a Conga line and is snakily moving from one end of the bridge to another. Alas, Science Officer Smarticus has been left alone defending the ISPGrande Pollo with bombardment after bombardment of giant omelets aimed at the Bubble Berry Soapy. Forgotten in the midst of dancing frenzy is the actual dilemma which could drown the ship at any moment in a bubble of gargantuan proportions.
Doc Shades, while dancing energetically with all the rest, still keeps a watchful eye on the crew. After all, this much strenuous exercise could cause problems. He is equipped with sedatives and adrenaline.
Never one to miss an opportunity at grandeur, Counselor Penna, who has refused to join the Conga line, suddenly belts out a phrase that stuns everyone to silence. “Focus!!! Seriously, people, we are in a battle zone!!! Captain, what can you be thinking?”
“I’m thinking that my buffalo wings may be burning because Mr. Blade is not in the galley tending to my needs!!!”
“Captain,” Mr. Blade says, lifting his chin and looking down his nose at the captain, who squirms uncomfortably in his chair, ”you sent Protection Officer Bun-Bo to compel me to dance to save the ISP Grande Pollo from extreme bubbles, Sir!!! How can I be in two places at once since Engineer Francois has not yet perfected the temporal cloning device?”
Captain Coco turns to Counselor Penna and declares, “I will have Mr. Blade court-martialled at the end of the day on the grounds of disrespect, disloyalty, and desertion of my poor burnt buffalo wings!!!”
Counselor Penna sighs, eyeing him with a look that clearly states the phrase “we need to talk”, and shakes her head. “Sir, you are suffering from extreme stress and have returned to childish ways…again…”
“It’s not the stress,” Mr. Blade mutters, studying the cobweb patterns on the bridge ceiling and casually holding out a hand to catch a drop of strawberry soap as it falls from a vent above. He sniffs it and smiles. “It is good bubble bath. Counselor…”
Seeing an opportunity to display his knowledge and worth to the crew, Doc Shades pulls out a sedative and attempts to insert the needle in Captain Coco’s derriere, the most muscular part of him, in an attempt to calm him down. He underestimates the sensitivity of the Captain’s derriere and finds himself sailing through the air to land at Mr. Blades feet. Blinking rapidly, he looks down at his thigh which has the needle projecting from it, a result of the Captain’s quick action. Mr. Blade quickly extracts the needle and helps Doc Shades [who is rapidly falling asleep] to his feet.
“The next person who attempts to touch me will be COURT-MARTIALLED!!!…………
In quantum time, Science Officer Smarticus is running madly about his lab, grunting as he lifts his giant chickens from their nests in a frantic effort to find more egg ammo.
“Girls! Daddy needs more eggs! You were good girls and you drank your egg laying tonic, right? Right? Ah!!!” Science Officer Smarticus tears at his feathery mohawk in frustration, deciding that he should have tested the tonic a long time ago… He runs wildly to the intercom and attempts to hail the good captain, but since Captain Coco is currently arguing with Mr. Blade the effort is futile.
Desperate, he decides to hail Engineer Francois. He laughs in near hysterical relief as Francois answers promptly. Hehehehehehe….….
“Hello?” Engineer Francois’ laconical tones strangely contrast with the wild yelling and banging noises that resonate in the background.
“Francois! I’m out of ammo! The gir…the chickens aren’t laying and the captain isn’t answering. Please tell me the bubble bath hasn’t blocked the power to the ship’s weapons.”
No answer. Somewhere, a voice cries, ”Engineer Francois! Engineer Francois! The core drive is pink! The core drive is pink!!!”
Engineer Francois bellows back, “What color do you expect it to be, you imbecile? It’s covered in strawberry bubble bath!!!”
After a short delay, Engineer Francois manages to remember that Science Officer Smarticus has asked him a very important question. “Frankly speaking, Smarticus, we have no power. You are our only hope!
“Wahhhhhhhhhhh…….I’m out of eggs!!!…” screams Smarticus. “We are doomed, Francois, Doooooooomed……”
Always quick to grasp the situation, Francois replies, “Are you out of methane?”
“I told you I’m out of…oh! Methane! Methane!!!”
Engineer Francois chuckles to himself, knowing full well that Science Officer Smarticus is already racing for his methane supplies. Francois chuckles to himself at the sheer anti-gravity of their situation. When in danger, smile lads, smile!!!
Meanwhile, Smarticus’ claw-toed boots are clacking madly over the deck as he dodges his beloved chickens to access the Blast-O-B.O.101…a device he has been secretly perfecting whenever Captain Coco’s back is turned. This device, intended to power the Eggonizer 5000 for hours (if he hadn’t run out of eggs) has unlimited quantities of methane gas. A minute amount has been used so far in lobbing the eggs onto the Bubble Berry Soapy’s hull–so Smarticus is “cooking up” a method to put this remaining methane to good use. He knows the danger involved in releasing the methane into the ship, but it is the ISP Grande Pollo’s last hope for victory. (Or so it appears).
On the bridge, Captain Coco has given up trying to battle wits with Mr. Blade. Mr. Blade is aptly named. He is capable of slicing the best of the Interstellar Peacekeeping Force officers down to size without raising his voice or moving an aggressive muscle. Motivated by his need to protect his best buddy, Doc Shades, he has managed to turn Captain Coco into a blithering mass of seething jelly using sheer rhetoric alone while the entire crew of both ships looks on. It is painful to watch a Captain being so humiliated, so Counselor Penna places her hand gently on Mr. Blades’ muscular arm.
“Mr. Blade, shouldn’t we be checking on those buffalo wings?’, she asks. Blinking rapidly at the change of mental direction, Mr. Blade glances down at her perfectly manicured hand on his arm. He could never resist beautiful hands. As he raises his eyes to hers, Counselor Penna smiles seductively, then pulls him quietly off the bridge. Doc Shades crumples to the floor, snoring loudly.
“Remind me to court martial Mr. Blade twice”, yells Captain Coco.
While all this one-sided yelling has been going on, Science Officer Smarticus has managed to hook the methane fueling line to the ship’s ventilation system. After all, as a last resort he is sure that Captain Coco would prefer to blow up the ISP Grande Pollo than to let her fall into the hands of the enemy. What he doesn’t realize is that at that very moment Captain Wash-a-lot has managed to beam himself aboard the ISP Grande Pollo despite the extreme lack of transporter support. [Captain Coco fudged on transporter parts too]. Groping his way blindly toward the engineering section–it is Captain Wash-a-lot’s intention to take over the ISP Grande Pollo single-handedly. I’m afraid that watching Mr. Blade succeed in stripping Captain Coco of his dignity on the Bridge has changed Captain Wash-a-lot’s opinion of the ISP Grande Pollo leadership. He sees Captain Coco as a nincompoop and has decided to take advantage of the confusion on board. What he doesn’t realize is that Lt. Bomma Whama has overheard his instructions to his crew via the telephone line and is precisely at that moment conveying her knowledge to, not Captain Coco, but to Chief Security Officer Bun-bo.
“I’m certain that I heard him say that he was going to beam aboard–then take over engineering. It seems a bit foolhardy considering that we have only a few minutes before the ISP Grande Pollo will be useless as a starship.”
Officer Bun-bo thinks for a moment then exclaims. ‘Send out an alert to all decks. We have to abandon ship and catch this perpetrator”!!!. I will inform the Captain of this latest development….
To be continued…Muahahahaha…
Note: No resemblance to any living persons intended. Uh-huh. Yeah, right. You know it is. Sorry.
.Credit: The JYJ Fantalk Team
Picture Credits: www.freepic.com+yahoo.com
Please remove with credits intact. Better still, maybe we shouldn’t take credit. Would you? Muahahahaha!!!
You may have noticed that there has been no mention of a Science Officer. There is a reason for this omission. The Science Officer on the ISP GrandePollo lives in a world of his own that does not include the bridge of the ship. At present he is engaged with his latest project–an Eggonizer 6000 version Alpha, prototype 1 egg projection machine, complete with a massive chute that can accomodate 18 giant eggs per second. Captain CoCo demands the biggest and the best of buffalo wings, therefore, the ISP Grande Pollo is carrying a cargo hold full of plump, delicious giant chickens imported to earth across the galaxy from the planet MaxiDna, famed for its sole occupation of raising and exporting chickens. Captain CoCo has voiced his desire to someday retire to this planet and to live a life as a chicken recipe tester. He has heard that they are incapable of frying chicken due to lack of oil supplies, therefore, the entrepreneur in him is stimulated to bring frying technology to the planet. But we get off focus…
The resident science officer, called Smarticus for lack of knowledge of his real name which he has forgotten after years of intense research and exposure to chicken feathers–stands 6 foot 8 in his stockinged feet and has a perpetual crest shaped-Mohawk hairstyle, rumored to express his constant delight with his chicken friends. It is also rumored that he lives on corn and watermelon.
As Captain CoCo and Protection Officer Bun-Bo race for the engineering section with Chief Engineer Francois bringing up a distant rear, they hear Science Officer Smarticus exclaim from his chicken lab, “Eureka!!! I have done it. It’s Alive, it’s Alive!!!”
Captain CoCo stops dead in his tracks, sliding furiously on corn and straw and causing an epic dogpile of all three officers. His brain begins to whirl with possibilities, for he knows what Smarticus has been working on. Smarticus is probably the only officer on board that Captain CoCo gives grudging respect, and is certainly the one officer who gets away with not approaching the bridge. Spitting out corn and straw while lashing out at his unfortunate officers who are presently pressing him into the fertilized chicken bed, Captain CoCo aggressively rounds on Science Officer Smarticus with the following tirade: “How often have I told you to keep this area clean, Mister!!! And why didn’t you hear the alarm?”
“I did. I put him in his cage so that he would not disturb my best layers. My weapon demands top quality eggs.”
“I heard you scream ‘Success!!!'”
“No, Captain, I screamed ‘Eureka’…an old earth term.” Smarticus has a reputation for using quick, impertinent answers, an undesirable trait on his poetic home planet of Bard. Perhaps this is why he felt a need to leave home and join the ISP Force. Sometimes Captain CoCo wishes that the eccentric scientist felt the same need to leave the ISP Force. However, this would result in smaller chicken portions aboard the ISP Grande Pollo. Also, Smarticus’ help is the only reason that Captain CoCo managed to graduate from the academy…a fact Smarticus is always quick to point out when the good captain threatens his prized chickens (and his smart-aleck retorts) with exile. Whichever planet happens to be in the area when he and Captain CoCo engage in one of their frequent arguments is targeted as Smarticus’ next home. But, we’re unfocused again,,,
Captain CoCo shoves Protection Officer Bun-Bo and Chief Engineer Francois aside and staggers to his feet, lurching to the chicken inhabited sink to rinse out his mouth. “Feathers, Feathers,” he intones, sticking out his tongue on each syllable. “I need the Thespiadeck. I need to relax.”
Science Officer Smarticus is starting to comprehend the gravity of the situation. “Captain? Is there a major problem? I smell strawberries instead of chicken droppings.”
Captain Coco rolls his eyes. “The ship is under attack and will be flooded with strawberry bubblebath, Smarticus. We have half an hour to defeat the enemy or die!!! Perhaps your Eureka meant that you have perfected the egg ejection machine?”
“Not egg ejection, Captain, egg projection. This baby can lob eighteen eggs a second under high power and strike deep into outerspace. Would you like a demonstration?”
“No, Smarticus, I demand instant application. Chief Engineer Francois, find some strong persons to assist the Science Officer. We have our counter weapon!!! Protection Officier Bun-Bo, get a visual hail and mystify the Bubble Berry Soapy ship with your cool dance moves. Get help if you must. I mean work it, Mr!!! I want their attention solely on you. Got it?”
“Got it Sir!” both officers cry out. They can scent battle and the adrenaline is starting to flow.
Chief Engineer Francois hurries to the Engineering section. No intercom remember? He manages to grab three strong junior officers and directs them back to the Eggonizer 6000 where Science Officer Smarticus and Captain CoCo are already loading the weapon with the largest eggs they can find. Smarticus has been using chicken manure to create methane gas and has stored it on-board the ISP Grande Pollo for months. This methane gas is what will provide the bio-fuel for the Eggonizer. Captain Coco is in the process of threatening to court-martial Smarticus for storing this volatile fuel on board without his knowledge. We all know how that goes. Court-martial; smourt-martial.
Protection Officer Bun-Bo sprints to his quarters to collect his MP3 Player. Yes, you read it right. MP3 Player. Everything on this totally advanced ISP Grande Pollo is ancient! He sprints to the bridge [by-the-way, there are no elevators either] and upon his arrival addresses Lt. Bomma Whama at the communications board.
“Lt. Bomma Whama, is there a way to pipe this music through to the Strawberry Bubble ship?”
“Certainly Protection Officer Bun-Bo. I’ll just leave the telephone off the hook. and turn the music up to full volume. Just give me a moment.”
While Lt. Bomma Whama is setting up the music, Ensign Allegra, the Navigator, is sitting stunned. She has managed to clear the view screen enough to show the Bubble Berry Soapy in all its splendor–a pink, shiny hull is its most prominent. feature. A continuous stream of bubbles is pouring forth from its stern, and port ejectors are shooting strawberry bubble bath at the ISP Grande Pollo. [Don’t worry about the physics here, we’re not trying to make this logical] The view of the Bubble Berry Soapy isn’t why Ensign Allegra is sitting stunned. It is because as a grand keyboardist, the thought of using an MP3 Player to pipe music through both ships is horrifying. Ensign Allegra jumps up and rushes to her quarters where she unhooks her keyboard and totes it [it’s heavy] back to the bridge. Winking at Lt. Bomma Whama who is staring at her, Ensign Allegra hooks the keyboard to the communications console speakers and begins to play.
Meanwhile, Officer Bun-Bo is not on the bridge. He has gone to fetch Doc Shades and Mr. Blade to assist him in his dancing efforts. Remember, all crewmembers must be able to sing, dance, and act. [If you haven’f noticed, there is no bridge discipline] Everyone is scattered all over the ship!
Lt. Bomma Whama has just finished upping the volume and dialing the Bubble Berry Soapy bridge when all three officers rush in. They have heard the mad keyboading on their way to the bridge and they begin to dance right in step with the music and each other. “I have visual contact!!!” says the Ensign at the console. The Bubble Berry Soapy bridge crew is glued to the screen as they watch the gyrations of [by now] the entire ISP GrandePollo dance team. What I mean by entire dance team is every crew member not engaged in the last ditch scrambling efforts to save the ship. Counselor Penna, never one to dance in public, is popping and bopping like no tomorrow, which, if you stop and think about it, could prove quite accurate. Everybodyis now engaged in saving the ship. They are rockin’, ya hear me? Rockin’!!!
Back at the egg factory–Captain Coco, Officer Smarticus, and the three junior officers are drenched in sweat. They have loaded 8,000 ostrich-sized eggs into the Eggonizer’s chambers and are now approaching the arduous task of touching the button to begin the firing sequence. They have aimed the trajectory of the Eggonizer at the helm of the Bubble Berry Soapy. Hopefully, they will be able to cover the bridge hull with raw egg and shells. The heat from the firing will deliver the eggs half-cooked to become a glutinous stinky mass.
“Fire!!!” Captain Coco’s voice booms loudly as the first volley of eggs releases from the first Eggonizer chamber. Going at the speed of 18 eggs per second, the hull is soon covered thickly in [an omelet?]…Oh Dear.
“Keep firing,” orders Captain CoCo. “I need to check up on Protection Officer Bun-Bo. It’s hard to dance that energetically by yourself. I will go help him.” [Giggle. Can’t resist can ya?]
As we all know, Captain Wash-a-lot was last seen wandering toward the bathtub with his rubber ducky. Frustrated, but confident of his ship’s and crew’s abilities, he has left the Bubble Berry Soapy in the hands of his First Officer, Mr. Strawberry Shake–so named because of his ceaseless shaking in the face of danger. Mr.Shake’s teeth are chattering noisily at this moment as he sends an ensign for the Captain.
“Ensign Wells, g-go in-f-form the Captain t-that h-e-e’s n-n-needed on the b-bridge”.
“Yes Mr, Shake, Sir!”
Captain Wash-a-lot is deeply asleep after that wonderful bubblebath.
“Captain!!! Captain, you’re needed on the bridge, Sir!” blurts the baby-faced ensign. “The ship has fired on us while we were watching them move really strange to music, and we are now covered in a giant omelet!”
“Aw…that’s why I was dreaming of dancing with quiche,” mutters Captain Wash-a-lot. “I didn’t get to eat it, though. Go back and man your station, Ensign, I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, Sir, Captain Sir.”
Captain Wash-a-lot sits for a few seconds pondering this change in affairs. “Eggs,” he mutters. “Eggs!! Eggs and dancing? “He begins to giggle. “I like this Captain CoCo. I do. Snort. Snort. Time for negotiations. We seem to be at a stalemate!!!”
To be continued…Muahahahaha!!!…
Note: No resemblance to any living persons intended. Uh-huh. Yeah, right. You know it is. Sorry.
All is quiet except for the sound of 300 energetic human mandibles chewing upon bowls of Pebbly Poohs and Honey Bears. The First Mate, Mr. Blade, true to his word, has managed to pour three hundred bowls of children’s cereal, assisted by Counselor Penna, within five minutes. Smelling deliciously throughout the entire vessel are the roasting buffalo wings ordered by Captain CoCo, who is at present wolfing down his bowl of Pebbly Poohs and Honey Bears. The Captain’s motto is “eat to have endurance”. He has proven that his motto is well-grounded. Captain CoCo eats ten meals a day (small ones, of course) accompanied by copious amounts of coconut milk to clear his intestines. No duplicators for himself or his crew. Real food only…quality, thank you very much. He is never in the infirmary, but it is a well-known fact that he runs the kitchen crew ragged.
The captain has a reason for demanding such culinary discipline. The ISP Grande Pollo is manned by a large illustrious crew of talented individuals. They need lots of energy. Perhaps because they have a reason. Captain CoCo runs every one of them ragged as well. Also, one of the many pre-requisites for serving on a ISP Force starship is the ability to sing, dance, and act. There has never been a justifiable reason for this requirement–a bit like cutting off the end of the ham to fit the pan. A special Thespiadeck is provided on each ship for the sole purpose of encouraging each of the crew members to practice their individual talents with impunity. No supervision and observation here. It is the belief of the ISP Force governing body that the way to ensure the happiness and obedience of the crew is to provide them with unsupervised personal time. Now, admittedly, some of the crew chooses not so healthy pursuits, but most use the Thespiadeck on a daily basis.
A sudden alarm sounds throughout the ship…Cluck, Cluck, Cluck, Cluck, Cock-A-Doodle-Doo!!!… It grows louder and louder until Captain Coco decides to answer the hail. He has left one lone individual to man the bridge, Protection Officer Bun-Bo, a tall, handsome officer with the reputation of being the most marvelous dancer on board. Ahem… except for Captain Coco, of course.
Take Note: Captain Coco doesn’t believe in using the intercom system on the ISP Grande Pollo. It goes against his belief that dignified yelling helps to develop the vocal chords. Therefore he screams at the top of his lungs, “What is it, Protection Officer Bun-Bo?” No answer. Protection Officer Bun-Bo is four bulk-heads away and it has been rumored that his refusal to use his doctor prescribed hearing aid is for the sole purpose of ignoring Captain CoCo.
This time, however, Protection Officer Bun-Bo is in the middle of staring at the Strawberry Bubble spaceship as it is approaching the ISP Grande Pollo at breakbow speed.
“Captain Coco!!! Captain Coco,” he screams. “We are under attack!!!”
“By what?” screams Captain Coco as he enters the bridge. There is no need for an answer, for just as Captain Coco leaps gracefully into his chair there is a sudden splashing sound, the ship lurches aft, and a monstrous amount of strawberry essence bubble bath is pouring down the hull of the ISP Grande Pollo. It appears as a red waterfall in the viewer screen and there is a pervasive smell of strawberries wafting through the ship’s ductwork and entering every breathable part of the ship.
“Surrender or drown!” demands a deep, basso voice emanating from the (at this moment) invisible Strawberry Bubble ship. “We have located your portholes and we are prepared to forcibly flood your ship with our finest bubble bath. Seeing as how we have an endless supply, you will have to surrender before we run out of bubbles.”
Captain CoCo is torn between wanting to laugh uproariously and cry like a baby in his diaper at nap-time. He has faced down many a ship’s captain in his time using conventional weapons, but this…he has never had cascading strawberry bubbles threatening to clog his portholes and dissolve his hull. His advanced science training leaps to his aid…
“Spray down the hull with the water ejectors right now!” he yells to the Chief Engineer who has just entered the bridge. “It should wash the bubble bath out into space!”
“We already tried that, Captain.” Chief Engineer Francois strolls nonchalantly to stand beside the captain. “The bubble bath is so gooey that it has clogged the ejectors. We have only forty-five minutes before this ship will have to be abandoned.”
“Forty-five minutes!!??” Captain Coco pivots in his command chair to address the Hailing Officer. “Lt. Bomma Whama, open a hailing channel. I must speak to that bubble captain.”
“Right away, Captain Sir, but it may be difficult. The ship’s antenna that you insisted on installing instead of the ISP Force communications system is rather gooey right now, but I will try to raise a hail.”
“Off with your head!” screams Captain CoCo, “I want to talk to that bubble head right NOW!!!”
“No need to get excited, Captain.” A strong, mellow voice rings out from the bridge entrance. “I am carrying a chickenizer.” Striding in looking like a fashion-plate and wearing cool shades, the ship’s Doctor Shades holds in his hand a gigantic wand-like object that smells suspiciously of chicken essence. “You know what happens when you get over-excited, Captain. Don’t force me to use this.”
Spinning swiftly around, Captain Coco addresses the First Mate. “You know how to deal with him, Mr. Blade. Get him off my bridge. Now!!”
Mr. Blade approaches Doc Shades, wrapping his arm around him and leading him away. Distantly… “How did you get hold of my best pair of shades? I hid those from you months ago…”
“Captain, I have an open channel.” Lt. Bomma Whama hands a telephone to Captain CoCo. “I don’t know how well this will work seeing as how you insisted on installing telephones instead of wireless communication devices. We’ll just have to pray and see what happens.”
Captain Coco plants his hands on both hips. “That’s insubordination, Lt. Bomma Whama. Remind me to court-martial you once all of this settles.”
“Yes Sir, Captain Sir!” Lt. Bomma Whama forgets to mention that this is the third time in two days that Captain CoCo has forgotten to court-martial her…
“Open the hail. Is this 12-8845-27736-568900, extension 36b?
Unbelievably there is an answer from the Strawberry Bubble captain. “I am Captain Wash-a-lot of the Bubbleship Berry Soapy. Even though you have centuries-old, outdated equipment space intruder, I can hear you. Barely. Snort!”
“I, Captain Coco of the ISP Grande Pollo refuse to surrender to a bubble–bearing, bubble-headed, strawberry toting, snorting foe. Surrender at once or FACE MY WRATH!!!”
…More snorting…
Captain Coco slams down the phone.”Protection Officer Bun-Bo, accompany me to the engineering section. There must be a way to defeat these strawberry bumpkins.”
“Whatever, Sir.” (Telephone rings in the background.)
Meanwhile, Captain Wash-a-lot sighs and drums his fingers on the arm of his squishie chair, then frowns like a five year old. Standing up, as Captain CoCo has refused to answer, he adjusts his towel about his waist and snatches up his rubber ducky in disgust. He sighs again as his turban-towel slips down over one eye. Raising his ducky aloft in defiance of the ISP Grande Pollo, he blurts…
“I shall be in my bath! Let me know when he deigns to speak with the captain of the powerful Bubbleship Berry Soapy! Lye and green apples reek!!!”
“Right Sir! Lye and green apples reek!!!” , the crew replies in a cascading, thunderous roar. Hail to the Chief of Rubber Duckies!!”.
To be continued…Muahahahaha!!!
Note: No resemblance to any living persons intended. Uh-huh. Yeah, right. You know it is. Sorry.
Captain CoCo stares at the ship’s holographic navigation unit while getting dizzy from trying to isolate Planet Ceremus23A from the millions of stars on the hologrid of the ISPGrande Pollo {Big Chicken}. The captain rests his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an attempt to relieve the building pressure. Just out of dock, and hailed as the greatest, most advanced starship in the fleet of the Interstellar Peacekeeping Force, the Grande Pollo is on her maiden voyage to Ceremus23A, a hotbed of revolutionary passions.
According to reliable sources, Ceremus23A is in the midst of a soapy civil uprising caused by three opposing factions on the planet. The Strawberry Bubble and the Green Apple Factions have been competing and dousing each other with their squirt guns for several generations. Rumor has it that there are millions of Anti-Bubble rebels hiding in the hills and that an urgent call has been sent to the headquarters of the Interstellar Peacekeeping Force [To be known as the ISP Force from this moment on].
Unbeknownst to Captain CoCo, as his ship is speeding toward the planet another starship of equal power and splendor is racing to intercept them. Armed and dangerous, and the pride of Ceremus23A’s Strawberry Bubble Faction, the undetected ship contains eighty-eight thousand pounds of gaseous methane emissions as a propellant agent. In addition, it is carrying a cargo of seventy-seven million bio-gallons of strawberry bubble bath. This is not your ordinary, chemically induced strawberry bubble bath of the earth-like variety. A special formula of pure, organic strawberry essense and super concentrated soapy agents, it is the cream of the crop of Ceremus23A’s intergalatically acclaimed soap industry. One drop is said to be powerful enough to scent, and clean, ten tubs of muddy children, but the formula is mild enough to use for the newest of babes. However, the most frequent use of this pungently wondrous formula is to scent the bathtubs of intergalatic rockstars.
The jury is out as to which stars like which formula best…strawberry or green apple. Thus the war…
These decadent, extremely passionate humanoids pride themselves on their secret formulas which are passed down from generation to generation and guarded with fervent patriotism. Over time, the planet has exploded with malcontents who cannot decide which formula is better than the other. Of course, the Strawberry Bubble Faction and the Green Apple Faction believe that their soap is best. The Anti-Bubble rebel forces are composed of those Ceremus23Aer‘s who detest both strawberry and green apple essence. Instead, they prefer good old lye soap and water.
Painfully astringent in their view of life, these dedicated individuals do not embrace decadence of any kind (or rockstars either). After their unprecedented defeat of the Chocolate Eaters at Lake Wannabathy on Galaxy-date 3379, the rebel force has been feared and considered enemies of all pleasurably scented plants.
Oblivious to the danger of mediating between the three factions, Captain CoCo is fully relaxed {except for finding this illusive planet], thinking that this is an easy assignment. After all, how hard can it be to convince a world that loves bubble baths to chill?
“Captain,” the ship’s counselor croons mildly, looking about the room for the culprit… “I detect tension on the bridge. I suggest we do something about it at once. A song perhaps? I advised you that allowing the crew to wear their jammies today would halt the unease. But no one listens. Sigh… Smiles, everyone!”
Captain CoCo tilts his head 25 degrees to the right. “Perhaps a short rendition of Buffoons. In the key of G, Navigator Allegra, if you please.”
“Captain, I suggest it would sound better in the key of A.”
“Very well.” Sighs. “Lead us in song, Navigator. One, two, three…hit it!”
(Entire ship’s crew begins to frolic and sing lustily)
After fifteen minutes of a cacophonic nightmare of sound, the captain’s voice is heard above the din screaming. “My head! The horror! Someone is flat!”
A disembodied voice arises from the noise. “It is you, Captain!”
“Who dares suggest that Captain CoCo is flat?” Captain CoCo whines, reaching for a chicken wing to alleviate the stress. “Where is the buffalo sauce? It was here just a minute ago.”
The bridge goes suddenly quiet. All eyes are fixed upon the chicken wing.
“Captain,” declares the First Mate, “it appears to me that there would be less tension if we all ate breakfast. Wouldn’t you agree, Counselor? I’ll volunteer to cook.”
Staring his First Mate down, Captain CoCo sneers as the First Mate crosses his legs and flips his long bangs nonchalantly. Grinning fiercely, he challenges the captain with sparkling eyes. “Should it be kimchi and rice or cereal? Your choice.”
The counselor shakes her head. “Cereal would be faster. Captain?”
Captain CoCo chews reflectively. “Get me more buffalo wings and you, Mr. Blade, won’t be court marshalled.”
“Thank you, Captain,” First Mate Blade responds, uncrossing his long legs. “I will go to prepare first. Five minutes. Pebbly Poohs or Honey Bears?”
“Both. I think…” Captain CoCo says as he sucks on his chicken bone. “Two dozen wings for me, Mr. Blade. Post haste! Yesterday!”
Mr. Blade turns his handsome profile toward the captain in an attitude that conveys his displeasure at having to obey this despot of a leader. He rolls his eyes and pouts petulantly as he exits the bridge with a parting jab.
“Yours will take an hour, sir. Counselor, join me?”
“It is better than staying here. My head aches from all this testosteronic posturing. At least in the kitchen, there will only be one of you.”
…Meanwhile, moving as fast as methane gas can propel a warp engine, the Strawberry Bubble Faction’s ship is approaching the IPF Grande Pollo at alarming speed…
To be continued…Muahahahaha…
Note: No resemblance to any living persons intended. Uh-huh. Yeah, right. You know it is. Sorry.
Blessed are those who give without remembering and take without forgetting.
Elizabeth Bibesco
Welcome to JYJ(CY) Fantalk.
This is a blog dedicated to posting music, news, info, and special events surrounding the persons and work of JYJ and TVXQ both past and present. Jaejoong, Yunho, Yoochun, Junsu, and Changmin are truly loved here.
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Stay strong all; Keep The Faith and Keep on Fighting!!!
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Video Credits: MarbleTeethMusic Channel 4 Incheon2014+RooruFr+IncheonAsianGames+Yunho’s Paradise
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“I did. I put him in his cage so that he would not disturb my best layers. My weapon demands top quality eggs.”
According to reliable sources, Ceremus23A is in the midst of a soapy civil uprising caused by three opposing factions on the planet. The Strawberry Bubble and the Green Apple Factions have been competing and dousing each other with their squirt guns for several generations. Rumor has it that there are millions of Anti-Bubble rebels hiding in the hills and that an urgent call has been sent to the headquarters of the Interstellar Peacekeeping Force [To be known as the ISP Force from this moment on].
Painfully astringent in their view of life, these dedicated individuals do not embrace decadence of any kind (or rockstars either). After their unprecedented defeat of the Chocolate Eaters at Lake Wannabathy on Galaxy-date 3379, the rebel force has been feared and considered enemies of all pleasurably scented plants.
