Thursday, October 2, 2008

With Apologies To McKoala For Omitting The Vomit...



Picture the scene.

The space transporter, Lady Armadillo, hurtles through the gas clouds on the perimeter of the Legumaruma sector.

From behind every planet, star and sun, bow-tie shaped fighters of the Evil Imperium/Emporium/Sanitorium, come screaming, vapourising every inch of the interstellar vacuumscape with laser beams to rival Metallica live in LA.

Up on the bridge, the ship’s computer (a trillion trillion megahertz monolith called Zany Bob) initiates emergency procedures, springing the vessel’s guardian from his velvet-lined snoozonutrient pod.

His name? Conan!

His game? Hot high-kicking ninja action!

His problem? He’s a potato.

Strapping genetic implants to his every beady eye and twirling his colossal bo stick round his head like a helicopter blade, Conan skips to the bridge with the finesse of Bruce Lee dancing the foxtrot. There, he finds a gaping hole in the hull next to the Captain’s toilet, its melting perimeter alive with swirls of radioactive spacey gunny stuff.

A transparent plastic punnet flies through the opening, spilling a quartet of two-for-the-price-of-one miniature plum tomatoes onto the Alien III leadlook lino.

Conan gasps. His ninja hood renders him immune to other potatoes — and certain varieties of leek — but not these scarlet spacetroopers, and behind them come more invaders: a salad onion and an avocado, both wielding photon cannons and looking decidedly worse the wear for having spent the last millennium holed up in a crisper.

Finally, a small bottle of Tabasco completes the Septet of Terror, and Conan knows this fight may be his last.

‘For the glory of the Empire!’ he screams, ‘or the umpire, if this is just some sort of game,’ and throws himself towards the evil vegetable horde with a ferocious triple salchow...

41 comments:

JaneyV said...

Oh my! (she fans herself to remove the blush from her cheeks) - Conan, you are quite the virile action hero aren't you. So impressive too…

Apologies for thinking you were a turd last time.

Sarah Laurenson said...

Dinner at your house must be quite the adventure. Thanks for the lovely break in my morning routine!

Natalie said...

Conan is one awesome ninja space fighter. I love the bo staff, it's like my favorite weapon. So unassuming, and yet so deadly. Good choice, Conan, good choice.

Kiersten said...

Oh, goodness! Janey took my fanning herself line!

What daring! What adventure! What high space hijinks!

So fun, Whirl. Also, the WIPometer is coming along nicely! And two posts this week! Look at you, Mister Productive AND Entertaining.

Whirlochre said...

Hmmm, yes. It's not been a bad week, this week. Some would point up the Sun-Moon conjunction in Libra, but I'll go with Protrudio's Winter stuffing recipe, which I'm sure will feature here in time for Christmas.*

And, before you ask, yes — they are putting up the Christmas decorations in my local high street (which, on past form, they won't take down till February).

As for Mrs Kick Butt Natalie, I'm taken by the concept that you have a favourite weapon. Personally, I've always been fond of the longbow. No use against aliens, of course, but it helped us Limeys duff a few French blokes in the dark days before holidaying abroad was not synonymous with sacking and plundering Johnny Foreigner...

*So stick around, SS.

Kiersten said...

No, no, she said it's LIKE her favorite weapon.

So, if the Bo Staff is similar to your favorite weapon, just what IS your favorite weapon?

Natalie said...

I've always been interested in martial arts, but sadly, my dad didn't deem that appropriate learning for girls. I never got to learn:( Now I just pretend.

And what do you mean not good against aliens? Depends on the alien, does it not?

writtenwyrdd said...

Lovely. But I still want a recipe. Maybe Conan can adventure in that one (not, I assure you, that I am requesting a potato recipe).

Whirlochre said...

Kiersten "On The Ball" Brazier hits another home run...

Ok, Natalie, you got me. Against certain Tribbles, I'm sure a longbow would be particularly effective. Not so sure about Daleks, mind.

As for recipes, is it time to summon Protrudio from the custard swamp?

Kiersten said...

Yes, please. We need a little Protrudio.

And Natalie, I am proficient in nunchucks. Or, I was, at one point. At least, I knew a routine.

Hi-YAH!

Whirlochre said...

Nunchucks?

Is that where you throw Catholic sisters over your shoulder like salt in the hope of blinding any muggers on your tail?

Natalie said...

Sheesh Kierst, you know that I like totally just finished this awesome girly teen speak book.

And we all know that "like" is an intensifier in teen speak. So take that.

Whirlochre said...

I like it best when Shaggy says it. he's so classy.

Kiersten said...

Yes, but Natalie, we all know that you're, like, five years out of teenagerhood.

Like, so there!

No, Whirl, that's a Nun Toss. Nun Chucks are where you spin them so quickly they throw up, grossing out your attackers and enabling you to run away.

Seriously though, I was on a performance team with martial arts. Which is funny, because I'm pretty sure I was not good.

And really, it always comes back to vomit with me, doesn't it?

At least Conan would be proud. Is there going to be a second chapter?

Kiersten said...

(Also, LOVED the empire umpire line.)

Whirlochre said...

Why am I not surprised you have Fu Knowledge, Kiersten?

(And, pardon me for being desperately crude, but isn't a nun toss what you can get for twenty quid in any decent confession box when the priest is down the pub, pissed?)

Whirlochre said...

I think it's from a song, isn't it?

Empire, umpire, stick it up your jumpire...

Kiersten said...

Not a clue. On the song, or the crudeness.

Sometimes it's nice being very naive.

Natalie said...

What? I'm not a teen anymore? Dangit. I guess this is what happens when you write YA...

Whirlochre said...

It's very sweet.

Kiersten said...

So, Whirl, you had a great September! I'm so glad. When do you think the WIP is going to be WHIPped?

Kiersten said...

It's true, Natalie. Use "like" to your heart's content.

Robin S. said...

I love Shaggy. Really I do.

And, Conan, I now see why you were covering your virilitude with one of your potater paws, baby!

Whirlochre said...

Kiersten

In my original plan for my WIP, I'd envisioned the end of October, but I'm a bit behind and have some horror chapters to plough through, so I'm guessing it'll now be November.

And yes, Shaggy is great.

Kiersten said...

Still--you're getting there, and that's fantastic!

Whirlochre said...

It's certainly better than being down a mine shaft strapped to a donkey.

Kiersten said...

Well, I don't know--what kind of mine and what kind of donkey?

Whirlochre said...

Coal and foal.

Kiersten said...

Definitely better then.

Whirlochre said...

Especially for the donkey.

ChrisEldin said...

I think I missed the prelude to this.
Funny and weird, but always very nice coming over here.
:-)

Kiersten said...

Well, see, I don't know about that. What if the donkey has a crush on you?

peggy said...

hahaha, this is great! You Conan are now my hero! To infinity and beyond..No wait..reisitance is futile..no wait, for the glory of Fries!
I love your blog!

Whirlochre said...

Thanks for dropping by, Peggy. When Schwarzeneggar played Conan, I think the phrase was 'pass me the steroids and line up the chicks.'

Or maybe it was donkeys?

Or is Arnie a donkey? In the sack?

I think we may be on to something significant, here...

Kiersten said...

Hey, that's my Governor you're talking about...

Or, as we like to call him, the Governator.

So please, carry on.

Whirlochre said...

Isn't he a hoot?

Robin S. said...

Hey, Whirl,

I see your WIP-ometer is moving along!

writtenwyrdd said...

I hope the writing is going well, but I'd really like another fine and literary post, Whirl. Got any more humorous anecdotes of a vegetable nature?

Whirlochre said...

I'll see what I can rustle up this week.

Mom In Scrubs said...

I must say, dear Conan is looking a little....well, pruny.

Oh, well. Schwarzenegger himself pruned up as he aged. Don't take it too hard, Conan. You're in good company!

Mary said...

My heart belongs to Conan.