113 Uses for a Slightly Squished Frog: The Musical.

Chapter Fourteen: The Clone Ranger.

2006-09-08T15:09:00.000+01:00

Eyes open...

Everything is a little blurred. Big greenish brownish blobby shapes everywhere.

Blink blink.

Ah. Much better. Those are trees! Very tall trees. And lots of them.

Everything seems to be rather tall, really. Aren't humans supposed to be a little further up from the ground?

Oh! Lying down. Now, how do arms and legs work again?

... Okay. That looks much better. This is called a forest, isn't it? How did that get here?

Right. This is how walking works.

"Cosmo?"

Hello, stick figure.

"Cosmo, it's me, Squid."

Ah, yes.

"Hi Squid! How's it going?"

"Oh, you know, can't complain. It's cold, and dark, Jeff nearly got his face chewed off by his dog, and we've been looking for you for hours, but it's going just great!"

"Super! I'm very glad to hear it."

"So where the hell have you been all this time?"

"Well, you know ... out and about."

"Riiight. It looks like something tried to eat your shirt. Did you get into a fight?"

"Hmmm, I don't think so. I would have remembered that. I'm pretty sure I just had a nice walk, and then a little nap. I feel quite refreshed now!"

"If you say so. I'm glad at least one of us got some sleep tonight. Now let's get back to the camp, Jeff and the others want to leave at dawn."

During their walk back, Squid kept a slightly anxious eye on Cosmo; he seemed fine, but you could never be quite sure. There was something a little ... disconnected about him that worried Squid.

Back at the camp, the tall robed figures had already packed everything up and were arguing over the map.

"... fell off a cliff and died horribly. But I'm sure you're right this time!"

"Problems?" asked Squid.

Jeff's eyes glowed a little brighter. "No no, not at all. We know perfectly well where we are and where we're supposed to go, don't you worry. Welcome back, Cosmo!"

More stick figures!

"Hi Jeff. Where are we going?"

"That way." Jeff waved his arm vaguely. "We should reach the space ship the day after tomorrow."

Space ship!

"Is something wrong, Cosmo? Only you just twitched a little when Jeff said 'space ship'."

SPACE SHIP!

"There, you did it again. Are you feeling okay?"

Patience! They mustn't know! Not yet...

"I'm perfectly fine, thanks for asking."

"Good. Let's go and find this ship, then. I can't wait to get off this bloody planet."

"Neither can I, little stick figure. Neither can I..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Muhahahaha.

Chapter Thirteen: The Campfire Girls Go Paintballing.

2006-08-25T16:07:00.000+01:00

A spaceport.

"Have you ever seen these guys before?"

"I certainly have!"

"Really?!"

"Yes! Only ... they were taller. But not this one, he was quite short. And green-skinned. Also, the other one was a woman, with a big hat and a fish.... Come to think of it, I'm not so sure if I actually saw them, or just dreamed that I did."

"I see." I sighed wearily. "Thank you very much for your ... help."

I had had over a dozen conversations along depressingly similar lines since this morning, and the only thing I'd learned was that people sucked and couldn't be relied on for anything. I'm not sure why it had taken me so long to realise that.

I'd completely lost Cosmo's trail, and if it hadn't been for the prospect of eventually getting paid large amounts of money, I would have given up and gone home a long time ago. Except that I wasn't quite sure where home was any more. Not that I was lost, or anything, it was just that ... yes, all right, I was lost. And it annoyed me immensely.

At least I had my ship back. That is to say, I had a ship, and some of the screws holding it together had actually belonged to my old ship before it fell apart spectacularly. This new ship was perfect: all gleaming metal, smooth leather chairs, understated chrome decor and tastefully flashing lights. There were no unexplained rattling noises, nothing exploded when it wasn't supposed to, and it actually flew where -- and when! -- I wanted it to. It even had one of those snazzy new ship's computers that could actually talk. And talk it did, with a voice like a long hot bubble bath.[1] I called it George.

Unfortunately in order to get this ship I'd had to spend what little money I still owned, plus a great deal more that I didn't. Which was why I was reduced to standing around in gods-forsaken spaceports talking to people who couldn't have strung coherent sentences together if they came with written instructions.

"Excuse me, have you ever seen these guys before?"

The transport pilot squinted hard at the photo I was holding under his nose. "Ummm, the one in the middle looks like ... Roger."

"There's only two people in this picture. And who's Roger?"

"That's Roger." A large finger stabbed at the photo, pointing to an empty bit of sky.

"Right. Thanks."

I didn't know how much longer I could suppress the urge to stab someone in the eye, so I decided to call it a day and fled to the soothing, new-spaceship-smelling confines of my new spaceship to have my ears massaged for a while.

"Hello, Eve," said George. The back of my knees tingled pleasantly. "How was your day?"

"It sucked. I hate my job, George."

"I'm sorry to hear that." I could feel my spine curling up in the nicest possible way.

I flung myself into the pilot's seat and fiddled with the controls set into the armrest. Not because I actually needed to fiddle with them, but simply because I loved the fact that I had controls set into my armrest that I could fiddle with.

"George, would you get us out of here, please?"

"As you wish."[2]

The ship's engine came online with a wonderful electronic hum, and a moment later we lifted off gracefully. Ten seconds after that there was a huge bang behind us, followed by a flash of light and several tons of debris that suddenly surrounded us. The ship swerved, manoeuvering attractively around smouldering bits of metal until we reached a safe distance.

I stared at the control screens in front of me. "What happened?!"

George sounded a little smug when he answered. "I took the liberty of annihilating our target."

"What?"

"You don't mind, do you? I was only trying to please you. I want you to be happy, Eve." Thousands of tiny little shivers gathered at the back of my neck and threw themselves down my spine one by one like lemmings. "Are you happy, Eve?"

The shivers reached my toes, played with them until they curled up, and then climbed back up my spine and started launching themselves off again. I lay back in my seat and closed my eyes. "Ooh, George..."

--
[1] As soothing as a bubble bath, that is to say. I don't mean it literally sounded like a load of soapy water sloshing around in a tub.

[2] Ooh, just ... ooooh!

Chapter Twelve: Dawn of the Deaf.

2006-04-04T15:25:00.000+01:00

Squid had been having a very pleasant dream when the screaming started. At least he thought it had been a pleasant dream -- he couldn't actually remember any of it, but for several weeks afterwards, he had a nice tingly feeling in his stomach whenever he saw toothpaste.

He began to unfurl himself from his blanket to turn on the lamp above his bed, but stopped when he realised that he didn't have a blanket, a lamp, or indeed a bed. What he did have, though, were a dozen or so bits of miscellaneous plant matter and a handful of what were quite possibly small dead animals that had become attached to him during the night.

Who- or whatever was screaming sounded a little annoyed. More than a little, actually: they sounded furious. This left Squid in no doubt that Cosmo was somehow involved -- people did a lot of annoyed screaming when he was around. Well, that made things much easier. Squid rolled over, draped one of the legs of his pillow[1] over his face as best he could, and tried to get back to sleep.

Sadly, sleeping is difficult when someone is shaking you violently. Squid held out for about thirty seconds before the bony fingers digging into his shoulder became too much. Reluctantly he opened one eye and then the other, and stared up at the glowy-eyed face disdainfully.

"Yes?"

"Sorry to wake you up, Squid, but I think Cosmo is in trouble."

"Yes. So what?"

The glowing eyes moved half an inch closer together as the tall robed figure frowned. "So shouldn't we go and help him? Or something?"

"I don't think so. It only encourages him." Squid rolled back on his side and waited for sleep to return. It didn't: Jeff was in the way.

Squid sighed, and opened his eyes again. "Was there something else?"

"Well... I still think we should help him. He is your friend..."

"Exactly. I've known him longer than you. Helping him never achieves anything." He willed the tall robed figure to go away and let him sleep, but there was obviously something wrong with his telepathy -- no wonder at this time of night.

He tried something a little more obvious. "Please go away and let me sleep, Jeff."

But that didn't work either. Jeff still hovered uncertainly, casting worried glances in the direction of the screams; they had become a little fainter, as if their source was moving away from the camp.

And then they suddenly stopped. After a few moments of silence there was a strangled yelp, and then the only sound they could hear was the ominous background music[2].

"Okay, now we go and help him," Squid said.

They headed towards the direction where the sound had cut off. The faintest line of light was visible on the horizon behind the trees, which either meant that morning was coming, or that the forest was on fire. Squid vaguely hoped that it was the latter.

After a hundred or so metres they reached a small clearing, the ground freshly trampled by at least a dozen pairs of feet. Jeff dropped to his knees and spent several minutes there, alternately staring at the ground from a few inches away and raising his head to ... well, listen to the wind, or something. Finally he sat up and announced: "Someone's been here." He squinted, turned his head this way and that, and added: "And they went that way."

Squid followed his pointed finger, and saw the tracks that he and Jeff had made a few minutes ago coming from the camp. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! I've read books, you know." His glowing eyes managed to look indignant.

"I'm sure you have. I only ask because that" -- Squid pointed -- "looks like the prints from Cosmo's trainers, and they sort of lead the other way."

Wordlessly, Jeff dropped to his knees again and stared at the ground even longer than last time. He actually sniffed at one of the shoe prints, then at the air, then sat completely motionless for at least a minute, his head cocked to one side. Then he said: "I think you might be right."

"Thank gods for that," Squid muttered under his breath.

Jeff stood up, dusted himself off, and they began to follow Cosmo's tracks deeper into the forest.

Five minutes later, something jumped out of a tree and into Jeff's face.

--
[1] His trousers, actually.

[2] Mostly very high-pitched violins. They were giving Squid a bit of a headache.

Chapter Eleven: In All the Wrong Places.

2006-02-09T22:15:00.000Z

In retrospect, I shouldn't have taken that shortcut through the Teigo system.

Sure, it saved me a week or two (at first), and was a lot more exciting than the more conventional route around the asteroid fields. But somehow I was left feeling that it hadn't really been worth it. That maybe my ship had looked (and worked) better in one piece.

Still, it wasn't all bad. The Teigans who had picked me up were very nice people, and the ship's bar served a wicked Purple Frogspawn[1]. And another. And then a few more after that. I lost track around the seventh green-powder-crusted glass, and stopped caring a couple of drinks after that. Already things were looking up. So what if I was stuck on this ship for the next three weeks, and going in the wrong direction? So what if the only salvageable bits of my ship were one of the flashy bleeping panels from the cockpit and my teddy, Teddy?[3] All that mattered right now was that I had enough alcohol in my blood stream to keep me floating in this warm, fuzzy bubble of warm fuzziness for the rest of the week.

I was about to try and extend it to next week, when a slightly blurred figure stepped up to my table and sat down. Then it tilted gently to the left, along with the rest of the universe. After a few moments it reached over and pushed me upright again.

The figure launched into a lengthy monologue accompanied by expressive gestures and a lot of raising and lowering of the voice. I understood none of it, however, because I was beginning to feel slightly sea-sick and had to concentrate very hard on keeping the world at least vaguely the right way up. Eventually the figure stopped talking, in a way that made it clear that I was expected to contribute something to the discussion.

"Mmm," I said vaguely. That felt safe enough. Now if only the room would stop spinning quite so much, maybe I could work out what else to say.

The figure sighed blurrily and fiddled with something I couldn't make out for a few moments. It did something to my glass, and pointed. Drink? Now that I could do.

I did, and the world swam into painful focus. The figure opposite me dissolved into the ship's captain. It wasn't much of an improvement. Teigans are a very odd-looking species[4], their most notable features being a very thick skull and large head, and twig-like body and bizarrely long arms that they keep rolled up to their shoulders like hoses. When Teigans are agitated, their arms begin to flap uncontrollably. Right now, the captain looked as if he was about to lift off.

I stared at him, angry now that the world had lost its pink fuzzy glow. "Is something wrong, captain?" I asked. I didn't really care, but I hoped the question would annoy him.

The captain's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and I could see his pale green teeth retracting nervously. His arms flapped even faster than before, and he started to turn slightly orange. Finally and with visible effort, he calmed down, and started to speak.

"Well, y...--"

Whatever he had been about to say dissolved into a strangled gurgle. His left arm had suddenly shot up and wound itself tightly around his neck until his eyes bulged. His mouth opened wide. His teeth were trying to escape. He slid sideways out of his seat and onto the floor, where he began to writhe, his right arm tugging at the one around his throat weakly. I began to wonder if I should try and help him, but I was still feeling a little resentful about my whole situation. In any case, it was too late. The captain had stopped writhing, twitching, and generally showing signs of life. I prodded him gingerly with my toe, but there was no reaction.

I looked around the mess hall. It had been empty when I came in here yesterday, and it was empty now. Teigans aren't really big on drinking, or indeed eating. I sauntered over to the bar, as nonchalantly as I could manage, and peered over the counter through the kitchen door. The bartender was doing something interesting to some sort of red wobbly blob that occasionally twitched. He didn't seem to have noticed the commotion in the main room.

"Excuse me?" I called.

He dropped the thing he'd been prodding, which immediately began edging towards the other end of the table, and stepped up to the bar. "Yes, madam? Another one?"

"No, thank you. I was just wondering if you could shed any light on what just happened to your captain..." I stepped aside, and pointed at the prone figure. The bartender smiled amiably. "Oh, that's because he was going to tell you about urk--" The bartender stopped smiling. His left arm wrapped itself around his neck, his hand took hold of his throat, and together they strangled him before I could even lean over the counter. He fell over limply, and the now lifeless arm began to untangle itself.

Well, this was interesting.

I headed out of the mess hall, remembered something, went back to the bar to fetch the biggest bottle of alcohol -- it didn't really matter what kind -- I could find, and then left the mess hall.

It wasn't a very big ship, which was a relief, because I had no idea where I was going. As soon as I'd come on board yesterday I'd asked my way through to the alcohol, and stayed there. Outside the mess hall was a corridor that I could have sworn I'd never seen before. I stared left and right for a little while. Both sides of the corridor looked entirely identical and unremarkable. I shrugged, and turned left.

Five minutes later I was in the engine room, sharing my liquor with an elderly Teigan engineer. I'm not sure how that happened -- I certainly didn't intend to share it with him, or anyone else, for that matter. In fact, it wasn't really sharing, because that implies that I got to drink some of it, too. So: Five minutes later I was in the engine room, having my liquor stolen by an elderly Teigan engineer.

When he'd emptied the bottle he looked at me, or at least somewhere half a metre left of me. "What can I do for you?" he asked, swaying gently.

I explained what had just happened in the mess hall. A wide grin spread across the engineer's face, and he began to laugh in a rather disconcertingly high-pitched voice. His laughter dissolved into a coughing fit, and he finally stopped.

After a brief silence, he said: "They were trying to tell you about urgleurrrgh--"

An hour later I had reached the bridge, and two conclusions. One, that there was some sort of secret that the Teigans weren't allowed (or indeed able) to talk about, and two, that they were the most stupid species in this universe. Every single Teigan I'd run into had tried to tell me why his colleague had just dropped dead, and every single one had committed involuntary suicide a second later. Even seeing what happened when someone else tried to tell me didn't stop them.

Now I was standing on the empty bridge[5], and realised that I was the only person left alive on the ship. Which suited me just fine, actually.

I surveyed the array of flashing lights, screens displaying unfamiliar symbols, and buttons and levers of all colours and sizes. I sat down in the large swivel chair in the centre of the room, placed Teddy on the console in front of me, and started looking for the button that would turn the ship around.

--
[1] The recipe is a well-guarded secret, and might well involve actual frogspawn. It's a famous cocktail not because it tastes particularly good[2], or looks particularly stylish[2], but because it contains so much alcohol that no one has ever tasted it sober.

[2] It doesn't.

[3] Not technically a part of the ship, but integral to its working properly, nevertheless. I'd lost him once, and spent an entire month in entirely the wrong part of space because my navigational computer broke without telling me. Only when Teddy turned up again the computer came back online. Just one of those things.

[4] Well, not as odd as, say, the herd of giant red buttons that live on a small green bicycle currently drifting through the Argo galaxy. But pretty odd, as far as vaguely human-shaped aliens go.

[5] Empty except for the dozen or so bodies strewn around the floor, that is.

Intermission: The Pineapple Dance of the Last Ninja.

2005-09-07T13:02:00.000+01:00

Flying cows are one thing, but maybe someone should have told the postman not to bury that human foot where anyone might steal it. Still, it'd be a shame to waste it now, so here's a poem called Apple Pie.

Apple Pie.

Is it Thursday already?
My ice cream smells more like
Saturday
Two weeks ago,
And the chocolate sprinkles
Spell out
DANGER.
(In morse code.)

The weasels have left,
And I can't see
My ears any more.
Maybe I
should
Buy a mirror,
But I've spent my
Life savings on
A toothpick and a pair
Of whypslovens.
(Cheap at just 4 monthly installments of £99.99! Order yours now, and get a set of steak spoons absolutely free!)

And when someone suggested
Painting go-faster stripes
On all my myrmidons,
My life
Had a purpose once more.
But now my
Red marker pen
Has run away with
The Stapler,
And I am
Purple again.

At least I still have the sea!
No, wait, I don't--
Someone pulled the plug
Yesterday.

Damn it!

Chapter Ten: Down With the Space Sickness.

2005-09-06T10:14:00.000+01:00

"--uck?"

Cosmo blinked. Everyone was staring at him.

"Umm... what just happened?"

"I think you finally went insane."

"Ah. Well. That explains it." Cosmo smiled serenely at Squid and the tall robed figures. They were looking at him as if he was wearing his undies on his head.[1] He checked, just in case. He wasn't.

"So... now what?"

"Now we find the ... space ship!" Jeff paused meaningfully, but the invisible orchestra had gone for lunch.

Cosmo peered at the map he was still holding. "Where are we on this thing, then?"

Squid looked over his shoulder. "According to Jeff, we're exactly ... here-ish." He pointed vaguely at the lower half of the map.

"Exactly?"

Squid nodded firmly.

"Oh good."

"We need to go that way." Jeff waved a robed hand, encompassing at least three entirely different directions. "Ish," he added.

Cosmo sighed. "Tell me. How long have you been looking for this treasure?"

"Before you got here?" Jeff glanced at his wrist. "Fifteen years. Give or take."

Cosmo nodded. He was beginning to see why. He also suspected he would come to regret all this before long; in fact he suspected he already was.

Then again, what did he and Squid have to lose? Nothing but their sanity, self-respect, dignity, hopes, dreams, lives, and trousers.

"Let's go," he said.

Ten minutes later they'd all climbed out of the hole Cosmo had fallen into a few chapters back, and were looking at Jeff expectantly.

Jeff stared hard at the map for a while. Then he turned it the right way up and stared a bit longer. Finally he looked up and nodded. "It's this way." He pointed to the right, walked off to the left, and fell into the hole they'd just climbed out of.

When they'd helped him out again, one of the other two interchangeable tall robed figures took the map from him, muttered something Cosmo didn't catch, and walked off. The rest of the group exchanged slightly puzzled looks, shrugged their collective shoulders and followed.

They walked for what felt like hours, until the sun went down half an hour later and it became too dark to go on. Cosmo looked around. They were in a dark, ominous-looking forest, full of tall, foreboding trees and very creepy background music.

Jeff looked around, hands on his hips. "Perfect! We'll rest here tonight!" From somewhere behind him came a long, mournful howl, followed by ominous rumbling and a flash of lightning. Jeff caught Cosmo's look, and gave him a thumbs-up. Something was trying to crawl into Cosmo's left shoe.

Cosmo had trouble sleeping that night. Whenever he closed his eyes, he felt as though he was surrounded by hundreds of glowing eyes, watching him in the darkness. Whenever he opened his eyes, he saw that he was surrounded by hundreds[2] of glowing eyes, watching him in the darkness. He finally gave up on sleep altogether when he found Greg sitting on his chest, drooling noisily.

He pushed the (probably) dog off his chest and sat up. The forest around them was very dark, and very quiet. Oh, except for the rustling footsteps and heavy breathing he could hear nearby.

Being a brave intergalactic space hero who laughs in the face of danger[3], Cosmo decided to get up and investigate. For lack of a torch, he grabbed the small robed dog and pointed his eyes in the direction of the noise. The footsteps stopped, then started again, very slowly, away from Cosmo. He followed, gently swinging Greg from side to side like a searchlight. The only things this revealed to him were, firstly, that they were surrounded by trees, which he had in fact known before, secondly, that dogs don't like being swung around like a searchlight, and finally, that Greg contained a surprising amount of vomit for a dog his size.

Cosmo cursed quietly, dropped Greg, and ... froze. Just for the fraction of a second, before the dog dashed away somewhere, his glowing eyes had illuminated a pale face between the trees. A face that was a little too transparent and contained somewhat more teeth than faces generally should. It sent a shiver down Cosmo's back. He did the only sensible thing you can do in this sort of situation.

"Oi, you there!"

There was a loud hiss somewhere in front of him. He headed towards the noise, waving his arms and shouting. "Hello! Is anybody there?!"

The hiss stopped, right in front of him.

Something leapt out of the darkness.

--
[1] Again.

[2] Okay, eight. But they're very bright.

[3] Even though it sounds like screaming sometimes.

Chapter Nine: It's Probably Best not to Ask.

2005-07-07T09:06:00.000+01:00

Something told me that Louis was not entirely pleased to see me.

It might have been the way his left hand was fingering the ridiculously oversized gun he kept on his desk.

Or maybe the fact that he'd just nearly cut off his right thumb while fingering the ridiculously oversized hunting knife he kept on his desk next to his gun.

There was also the way he was glaring at me. As if he was going to kill me, very slowly. Smoke was coming from his ears.

Of course, what really gave it away was the fact that he'd been yelling abuse at me for the last ten minutes. Well, it had started out as abuse but had quickly turned into a general sort of incoherent yelling.

Which was alright, because I'd stopped listening about nine minutes and 50 seconds ago, found myself a seat, and was now waiting for him to pause for breath.[1]

In fact he completely forgot about breathing and finally collapsed, after 15 minutes of rage.

I waited politely until he'd come round before I said: "Is something wrong, Louis? You seem a little upset."

I knew exactly what was wrong, of course. The last time I'd seen Louis, he had lost his favourite ship. Well, "lost" might not be the right word; it didn't fall down the back of his sofa or anything. It might be more accurate to say that somebody took it. And it might be even more accurate to say that I took it. It would have been nice to be able to add that I was sorry, but I wasn't. It was a very nice ship, and Louis was not a very nice person; and neither was I, come to think of it.

This, then, was what he had been yelling, and was now quietly gibbering, about. [1.8675309]

Far too angry to actually speak, he simply pointed at the huge framed photograph on the wall behind him. It showed his precious ship the way it had looked when I'd stolen it three years ago. The last time I'd seen it, there had been rather less of it left, with rather more dents and scrapes in it.

I smiled blondely. "Oooh -- this isn't about that ship, is it? That silly old thing?" Louis wheezed furiously in reply. I knew I wasn't fooling anyone, but seeing him suffer was just too much fun. In the last 20 minutes his face had gone through a range of colours I'd never seen on anything alive before.

I waited until it had cooled to something approaching hot pink. Then I said: "Anyway, that's not what I came here to talk about." I beamed at him. "How would you like to do me a favour, darling?"

Hot pink turned to mauve, then flickered briefly, like a negative, to toxic green, before settling somewhere in the ultra-violet range. I could hear a soft hissing; it was coming from Louis' left ear.

I smiled harder. Suddenly there was a little plop, followed by a much louder plop. Then, Louis' head exploded.

For about 20 seconds after that nothing much happened.

Then, with a sound like ... well, like somebody growing a new head, Louis grew a new head. This one looked almost exactly like its predecessor, apart from its colouring[2] and its expression[3].

Louis had lost his first head at the age of 25. The regenerating head transplant they'd given him was then the latest in medical science, terribly useful in almost every respect. It had only one side effect, and it was this:

After the new head has grown, it takes a while to upload to the new brain everything it needs to know; all it starts out with is a sort of base cheerfulness, which remains until all the information is in place. For some reason this turned Louis into the smarmiest man alive.

And now I had a plan.

Louis smiled at me smarmily, and said[4]: "Well hellooooo, beautiful! What can I do for you?"

My plan was this: Louis wouldn't actually do anything to me while his brain was being updated, because he was too busy being smarmy. So all I would have to do was ask my question and hope that he'd remember the answer before he remembered who I was and what I'd done to him.

Okay, so it wasn't much of a plan, but I'd thought of it all on my own and I didn't have any others, so I would damn well stick by it.

I pulled out the photos Florg had given me and showed them to Louis. "Have these two guys ever been here at Titania Station?"

Louis would know, because he was the single most important person on this station, and had eyes and ears everywhere[5]. Louis was the janitor. This position had endowed him with a master key, a broom, and an excuse for being wherever it was that he wanted to be. And also, for some reason, with a rather nice office. And since he was a naturally nosy person, he knew what was happening on Titania better than anyone else. When he wasn't having his brain updated, anyway.

Right now, he wasn't even trying to remember. I'd felt his eyes creeping away from the photos and onto my breasts a few moments ago.[7]

"Louis!" I yelled. It was enough to momentarily draw his attention a little higher up.

"Darling! What happened to your face?" he asked, smarmily.

"The Giant Two-Headed Monster From Space's Head exploded. A bit," I added, "like yours."

He grinned smarmily.

And then he remembered.

Two minutes later I was in my ship, heading swiftly away from Titania Station. Five minutes after that, there was a transmission from Louis.

He sounded a little upset about something.

--
[1] He had ridiculously oversized lungs.

[1.8675309] Do not be alarmed! All the commas are in the right place here!

[2] Pink-ish, and definitely not hot.

[3] Pleasantly confused, as if he had no idea who I was, but was still incredibly happy to see me.

[4] Okay: purred.

[5] Not literally. That'd just be weird.[6]

[6] Yes, weirder than a regenerating head.

[7] Not literally. See [5].

Chapter Eight: When Giant Mutant Killer Thingies From Space Go Bad.

2005-06-23T12:21:00.000+01:00

Cosmo screamed,[1] to ease the transition from the end of the last chapter. And because there were tall robed figures with glowing eyes and big sticks in front of him, obviously.

He stopped screaming briefly when he ran out of air and took a deep breath so he could start again, but instead spent the next few minutes in a violent coughing fit.

The tall robed figures watched him with interest; well, it was hard to tell exactly what they watched him with[2], so just to be on the safe side Cosmo assumed that it was interest. Interest in killing him as soon as they got the chance, that is. Though the question was academic, really, since he'd have coughed himself to death in a minute or two anyway.

Finally the tallest of the tall robed figures dropped his big stick and stalked over to Cosmo to slap him hard on the back. Cosmo stopped coughing and would have started screaming again if there'd been any air left in his lungs. But there wasn't, so he didn't.

Squid helped him back on his feet and patted him on the shoulder a few times. Then he pointed to the tallest of the figures. "Cosmo, this is Jeff." The figure gave a him a little wave.

Cosmo muttered something under his breath that might have been "Hi, pleased to meet you" or "Get the hell away from me, you psycho", and backed away as quickly as he dared.

"I'm sorry, I think he has a concussion or something. He's not normally this rude," Squid said to the figure. Then he turned back to Cosmo and hissed: "Be nice, damn it. They can help us!"

Cosmo finally found his voice again. "Help us? Have you seen the size of those sticks, Squid? They're going to prod us to death!"

"Shut up!" Squid hissed from the corner of his mouth while smiling stiffly at Jeff. Out loud, he said: "Really, I can't apologise enough," and kicked Cosmo surreptitiously.

Jeff waved his stick, and replied cheerfully: "Oh, don't worry about it -- we get that all the time. I think it's the eyes!" He pointed at the visual organs in question, just in case Squid hadn't yet noticed that they were on fire. "We've tried wearing dark glasses, you know, but that really doesn't work when you spend as much time underground as we do. You bump into things, see?"

Squid nodded sympathetically.

Cosmo, meanwhile, had backed away to the other end of the cave and was watching this exchange from a safe distance.[3]

Apart from Jeff, there were three other tall robed figures. Well, two tall robed figures, and one much shorter robed figure, with four legs and a tail. All three were carrying big pointy sticks and ominous expressions.[4]

Jeff noticed Cosmo staring at them and interrupted himself in mid-chatter to Squid. "Oh dear, where are my manners?" He pointed, one by one, at the other figures, and named them for Cosmo. "This is Hugo, my co-pilot. The gloomy-looking one here is Vinnie, and this is Greg. He's a dog." Cosmo could see absolutely no difference between the first two, but nodded anyway and tried to back away further. Greg trotted over to sniff at his toes.

There was a brief, vaguely embarrassed silence, until Squid nudged Jeff. "Show him the treasure map!"

"Oh yes, right, the map." Jeff began patting the parts of his robe that presumably contained pockets, muttering "Now where is it gone, I had it a moment ago..." and similar. Finally he gave a triumphant cry, pulled something from the dark folds and held it out for Cosmo, who snatched it from his hand and retreated back to the far wall.

It was a leaflet of some kind, its title page a brightly coloured photograph of a sunlit, but entirely unremarkable, bit of lawn. Printed in huge red letters underneath was:

THE TOURISM COUNCIL OF EAST XARKFORD WELCOMES YOU!!!

"There is nothing to do here, so you might as well relax!"

Cosmo turned the first page, and the entire leaflet unfolded into a map. It was unclear exactly what the area depicted was, but its shape was exactly that of a (slightly deformed) strawberry.[5]

Most of it appeared to be deserted, or at least not worth mentioning, and was thus held in an indifferent greyish colour. In the upper right-hand corner was a small, perfectly round, bright orange area, labelled "East Xarkford, City of ... Something Catchy. [Remember to fill this in later.]"

"The X is where the treasure is," Squid said, and pointed helpfully to the huge, bright red X that somebody had added to the map in crayon, and which Cosmo might otherwise have easily missed. Printed on the map underneath the X was a small black dot labelled "Legendary treasure site (secret)".

"Hmm." Cosmo frowned. "What kind of treasure is this?"

"It is said that it's a ..." Jeff paused dramatically, "... space ship!" An invisible orchestra played a dramatic chord.

"A space ship?" Cosmo repeated. There was another dramatic chord.

"That's right: a space ship!" Dramatic chord.

Cosmo looked around. "Who's doing that?" Dramatic chord, interrupted halfway through when the musicians realised that he hadn't said "space ship".

"Never mind that," Jeff said. "We're going to find this ... space ship!" Dramatic chord. Then a catchy theme starts playing, and the words "TO BE CONTINUED" appear in glowing letters in the air before Cosmo. The camera zooms in shakily on his confused face.

"What the f--"

The screen goes dark.

--
[1] Again.

[2] Well, yes, with their eyes, obviously.

[3] In this case, about three metres. It really was a very small cave.

[4] This is easy when your eyes look like two burning castles. From very high up. In a very dark night. Two perfectly round castles, quite close together, but with nothing in between, and before anyone has noticed that they're burning and has started to put bits of them out. Castles that, from very high up, look like a pair of glowing eyes.

So not much like castles at all, really.

In any case, it's hard not to look ominous with eyes like that, which was the point I was originally trying to make. So there.

[5] So basically a sort of blob, then.

Intermission: The Last Pineapple of the Dancing Ninja.

2005-05-14T13:17:00.000+01:00

or, The Author's Mind Is Blank.

That's right, it's poetry time again! This week we will learn how to live for a month on a single slice of yogurt and three pints of chopped herring, in a little poem entitled Procrastination.

Ahem!

Procrastination.[1]

Frogs![2]
Purple and[3] three feet high,
They're not[4] really
All that different
From those[5] tiny black thingies
You know the ones--
With the wings and
The feelers
Of DOOM!
DOOM!
DOOM!
DOOM![6]
And those really small goggles--
What are they called again?[7]
Oh yes: lawn mowers.[8]

And even though it's summer[9]
In[10]
That shop around[11] the corner[12],
There's no reason to go
On a mad rampage[13] with
A cocktail stick and
Moth balls[14]
Unless the Voices
Ask you really nicely. :+)[16]

Bonus stanza! (Because I haven't quite killed enough time yet.)[17]

Few things are more fun than
Watching white walls wobbling in the sun,
Like big white wobbly things that are, you know,
Wobbling.
So open the doors and let in
The tall dark mysterious stranger who has been
Standing there, shivering, for the last three hours.
It's hard work, stalking, and
You might not think so now,
But he is actually a nice guy
When you get to know him.

And as the clock strikes yesterday,
My wingèd myrmidons sing of
Something.

[No whypslovens were harmed in the making of this poem.]

--
[1] The annotated version.

[2] This should not be taken literally.

[3] Twice.

[4] Last Wednesday, and then again two sizes smaller.

[5] This should be taken literally.

[6] Sorry, enter key got stuck.

[7] Obviously a rhetorical question. Or is it?

[8] A subtle metaphor demonstrating the futility of our existence, while simultaneously hinting at the deep-seated fear in each of us of being eaten by a rabid moose while jogging down the beach.

[9] This line was later changed to something completely different. But I won't tell you what.

[10] Obviously not a rhetorical question.

[11] Read: under.

[12] Read: sea.

[13] Again, not to be taken literally. There's always a reason to go on a mad rampage.

[14] You can substitute hand grenades if none are at hand[15], but then you will need twice as much sugar.

[15] Hoho!

[16] Sp00n.

[17] There were 122 insightful, informative and inspiring (as well as several other words beginning with "in") footnotes for this section, but they were lost in a freak accident involving a hovercraft and two Swedish men called Björn.

Chapter Seven: Wingless Elephants Lay Happier Eggs.

2005-05-04T11:26:00.000+01:00

The moment I stepped into the bar, somebody threw a bottle at me. It was Tindonian Swamp Liquor, I think, although it might have been week-old dish water.

I tried to dodge out of the way in one of those cool slow motion moves, but I'd forgotten[1] to change into my uniform; and you just can't do stuff like that in anything other than black leather. I ended up jumping out of the way inelegantly, spilling half a dozen drinks and causing a small war to break out. Nobody noticed, of course; at the Giant Two-Headed Monster From Space's Head[2] on Titania Station, anything short of a nuclear explosion wouldn't so much as raise an eyebrow[3].

I strolled towards the bar, smiling casually; the screams behind me were already fading into the general battlefield atmosphere that the Head usually took on around early evening.

Behind the bar stood Sebastian, owner, part-time barman and full-time madman, wearing an impossibly clean apron and a friendly, if somewhat vacant, expression his face.[4] He was wiping energetically at a puddle of what might have been Surali Firefrog Ale, but was probably just blood. He smiled widely when he saw me. That is, he smiled, and I think he was looking somewhere in my direction; it was hard to be sure, since his eyes never focused for long, let alone on the same thing.

I reached the bar and leaned on the counter. There was an unpleasant slurping sound, and I realised that my left hand was now stuck to whatever it was that I'd put it in. It might have been...-- No. I was actually happier not thinking about it.

Sebastian beamed at me, or something just behind and above me. "Welcome, fair maiden, to my humble inn!"

I surreptitiously tried to separate my hand from the counter. "Hi Seb. Has Louis been in today? I need to speak to him."

Seb's head bobbed up and down a few times. He waggled his hands, winked at me and then stared intently at my left ear. This was his usual response when asked pretty much anything, and no one had ever worked out exactly what it meant.[5] I'm not sure why I bothered, really.

"Umm ... thanks, Seb. Guess I'll wait for him." There was another slurping sound, my hand was suddenly free from the stickiness, and I fell over. Several of the patrons around us stared at me when I got to my feet again. I stared back and was disappointed to find that my looks still couldn't kill.

I smiled at Seb wearily. "Give me a double vodka, would you?" I had no intention of getting drunk, but I really needed to blend in.

Sebastian produced what I could only assume was a fish bowl from somewhere under the counter and polished it ineffectually on his apron. Then, without looking, he took one of the bottles arrayed on the shelves behind him and emptied half of it into the bowl. The liquid was bright green, and fizzed violently when it touched the glass. Seb reached under his counter again and returned with a pile of exotic fruits, which he proceeded to attach to the bowl artistically. When he finished, the drink looked like a small rain forest; I could practically hear the monkeys[6].

But Sebastian wasn't quite done yet. There was more rummaging under the counter; just as I was beginning to wonder if he'd actually snuck off, he reappeared and jabbed an oversized pink cocktail umbrella into one of the fruits, which promptly deflated. Finally, he dropped an olive[7] on a stick[8] into the bowl and pushed the whole thing over the counter, smiling proudly. The liquid was turning purple as it dissolved the last ornament.

I tried hard to smile back as I picked up the bowl and held it as far away from my face as I could. "Thanks, Seb. Tell Louis I'm looking for him if he comes in, ok?"

Seb's head bobbed up and down a few times, &c. I turned around and went to look for a table.

The drink might not have helped me blend in, but it wasn't entirely useless: by the time I'd found somewhere to sit, it had swallowed three people, ten other drinks, half a table, and a goat.

I carefully put the bowl on a nearby table, flopped into the chair and looked around.

Quiet night, I thought. And then the bar exploded.

--
[1] That's right, "forgotten", cough cough.

[2] It used to be Heads, but one was stolen a few years ago.

[3] The explosion, at least, would singe them off.

[4] The expression was on his face. The apron was not.

[5] Because when somebody asked him about it, he'd bob his head up and down, waggle his hands and wink at them.

[6] Though this might have been unrelated to the drink.

[7] At least I hoped it was an olive.

[8] At least I hoped it was a stick.

Chapter Six: Doom and ... More Doom.

2005-04-15T09:15:00.000+01:00

Falling down holes had never been one of Cosmo's favourite pastimes[1], and so he was rather annoyed to find that he was, in fact, falling down a hole. He did not have to be annoyed for long, however, because it was a small hole, and the ground was quite eager to meet him. As he had somehow managed to fall head-first and had picked up far more speed than should have been possible over such a short distance, it was not an entirely pleasant meeting; the resulting sound might be best transcribed as THUNK. Cosmo passed out.[2]

He woke up to a nasty headache[2] and a circle of tall, robed and slightly blurred figures around him. He rubbed his eyes. When he looked again, the figures were still tall and robed, but slightly more in focus. They did not appear to have actual faces, just a pair of brightly glowing orbs where their eyes should be.[3] They were all mumbling something dark and sinister under their breaths, so presumably they had mouths somewhere, too.

Cosmo scrambled to his feet. The figures were slowly advancing towards him, so he advanced away from them until his back touched a wall, at which point he tried to advance up the wall. It didn't really work.

The figures stopped about a metre before him; the tallest one extended its arm and pointed a long, skeletal finger straight at Cosmo.

"YOU!" it whispered hoarsely.

Cosmo tried to climb up the wall again without actually appearing to move at all. It still didn't work.

"YOU!" the figure said again, inching closer.

Cosmo shut his eyes firmly when the bony finger prodded him in the chest.

"YOU ... come here often?"

Cosmo opened one eye, peered at the figure, closed it again, opened the other eye, squinted for a few moments, opened the first one again and then went terribly cross-eyed while his brain tried to untangle itself. Finally he uncrossed his eyes, blinked a few times, and stared at the creature wide-eyed, which is what he'd been trying to do all along.

"Huh?" he said. His brain was too busy coordinating the whole eye business to think of anything clever to say.

"I said: 'YOU ... come here often?'" the figure repeated, hoarsely. It poked him in the chest again to emphasise its point.

Cosmo shuffled away. "Umm ... no?"

"Oh. Right." The figure lowered its arm, shrugged its shoulders, and took a few steps back. The others immediately did the same, and Cosmo relaxed slightly. Or at least started breathing again.

Suddenly, the figure spun around dramatically and pointed at him again. "YOU ... want a cup of tea?"

Cosmo stared at the finger nervously. "Umm ... yes?"

The figure turned away with a dramatic flourish of robes, and stalked away to the far side of the cave, where a tea trolley had been set up. Cosmo closed his eyes, slid down the wall, and sunk to the ground with a sigh. When he opened them again a moment later the figure was standing in front of him, holding a silver tray with a dainty little tea cup and saucer on it. It handed the cup to Cosmo, hit him over the head with the tray, grabbed him by the shoulders, and began to shake him violently.

"Cosmo!" it shouted, hoarsely. "Cosmo!" Now the voice sounded a lot less hoarse. In fact, it sounded a bit like Squid. No, it sounded a lot like Squid. And the face in front of him suddenly was a real face, with normal, non-glowing eyes and other visible bits.

Cosmo blinked. He was no longer leaning against the wall in a large, torch-lit cave, but rather lying on the ground in a small, dusty cave[4].

"Where ... am I?"[5]

Squid stared at him. "You're in a hole[6], Cosmo. A great big hole in the ground that you somehow missed completely[7]. You hit your head when you landed, though I'm not entirely sure how you managed that."

"Oh. Right. And what about those tall robed figures with the bones and the glowing eyes?"

"You mean the ones standing behind you with big sticks in their hands?"

Cosmo turned around...

... and screamed.

--
[1] Eating, on the other hand, was. And the whole space exploring adventurer thing, of course, although that was more of a vocation than a hobby. He also enjoyed long walks on the beach, and shooting evil aliens.

[2] Again.

[3] A pair each, that is. It'd be pretty awkward having to share two eyes between so many people.

[4] Though "cave" might not be the right word for it, seeing as bright sunlight was filtering through the rather large hole in the ceiling, and caves usually involve more darkness and ... undergroundedness.

[5] This, of course, is the traditional question you have to ask when you've just regained consciousness. Even if you know exactly where you are. It's just one of those things, you know.

[6] See? Not a cave at all.

[7] Though he hadn't missed it, of course. That was rather the problem.

Chapter Five: And Now for Something Almost, but not Quite, Entirely Unlike the Previous Chapters.

2005-04-08T12:38:00.000+01:00

I knew it was going to be a bad day when I stepped outside and somebody threw a hover car at me.

...

Yes, ok, it was only a toy, but it did have sharp edges, and one of them hit me right in the eye. The somebody who'd thrown it was approximately four years old and trying to hide behind one of the potted plants outside my quarters. It[1] was grinning gleefully from ear to ear and making occasional snorting giggling sounds. I picked up the flower pot, emptied it over the child's head and then placed the child inside it. I would have done something more artistic with the plants, but I was already running late, and Florgurglarghurghglorgle Smith is not a man[2] you want to keep waiting.

Florg was sprawled majestically behind his desk when I walked into his office. In his mouth was something that was probably a cigar, if only because it was brown, vaguely cylindrical and lit at one end. He'd just taken a big bite out of the other end, leaving me enough time to close the door, sidle into the room and sit down on the extremely unstable swivel chair in front of his desk before he could actually say anything.

"You're late!" he finally boomed and threw the cigar over his shoulder, where it hit the wall with a wet fizz and was immediately swallowed by a small, furry spider.

I gave him my brightest smile, and replied: "No, I'm not. I've been here for ten minutes."

This seemed to throw him off a little. I could tell by the way his left eye rolled into the back of his head and twitched violently for several minutes. I continued to smile at him, and eventually the eye flopped back into place and began to look me up and down.

"Why aren't you wearing your uniform?"

My smile faded. "You know how much I hate all that shiny black leather stuff."

"It's in your contract!" He pointedly tapped the document, signed in blood, that was lying on his desk for just that purpose. I sighed.

"Fine. I'll get changed before I go. You want to tell me what this mission is about, then?"

Wordlessly, he pushed two photographs across his desk. I leaned over to examine them; this was too much for my chair, which collapsed and deposited me on the floor. Definitely not a good day today.

Florg laughed and laughed, until it looked and sounded as if he was choking[3]. I picked myself up, gave him an angry glare that he completely ignored, and began to examine the photographs. One showed a tall man, probably in his thirties, with long blond locks fluttering artistically in the wind. He was posing heroically: chest thrust out, stomach sucked in, hands on his hips and a smouldering look directed to the camera. The pink tutu he was wearing spoiled the effect a little.

The other photograph showed a younger man, as far as I could tell; I couldn't be sure, because most of the picture was taken up by a huge, incredibly tacky gold statue of some sort. I only knew I was supposed to be looking at the man next to it because someone had helpfully drawn a large red arrow pointing to him. From what I could make out, then, he was younger, darker haired, sensibly dressed, and less heroically posed. He was kind of cute, actually, in a blurry sort of way.

Florg had not, alas, died from laughter, and was still giggling a little when he leaned over and tapped the photographs with one claw. "Find them!" he boomed, and pushed a file towards me. As soon as I'd picked it up he turned away from me, produced a fresh[4] cigar from somewhere underneath his desk and began his attempts to light it. I assumed this signalled the end of our meeting, so I left the office.

As soon as I'd stepped outside, somebody threw a cat at me. Apparently this was to be the theme for the rest of my day. I looked around and spotted the same child who'd been outside my quarters; I knew it was the same because it was covered in mud and had a leaf stuck in its hair. I grabbed the child in one hand and the cat in the other, and went to look for the nearest airlock. Unfortunately, its parents[5] found us first and thanked me enthusiastically for finding their little darling; oh, and their son, too. I ignored them, gave the child an evil look, and finally headed for my ship.

Once there, I slumped into the pilot's seat with a sigh, programmed a course, swung my feet up on the console and opened the file Florg had given me.

Cosmo and Squid, eh? Well, they shouldn't be too hard to find...

--
[1] I couldn't tell if it was male or female. Come to think of it, I wasn't entirely sure it was even human.

[2] And by "man", I mean "polka-dotted being of unspeakable horror".

[3] I rather hoped he was.

[4] I use the term "fresh" loosely here.

[5] The child's, not the cat's. And definitely not the airlock's.

Chapter Four: Not the Chapter You Are Looking For.[1]

2005-04-05T09:40:00.000+01:00

BANG! BANG!

Cosmo shut his eyes tightly and tried to assume a pose that would make him look both heroic and completely invisible at the same time. It obviously didn't work, because something hit him right in the centre of his forehead, and he fell over.

So this is death, then, he thought. Funny, I thought it'd hurt more. And I didn't know bullets go 'Squish' when they hit you. And smell a bit like apple. Oh well, live and learn. Or rather, die and learn.

He wasn't entirely sure what was supposed to happen next, so he simply lay there. Someone would probably let him know when it was time to get up.

A few more shots rang out, and then all was silent.

Suddenly, all the small green fuzzy things started chattering excitedly at the same time. Whatever the problem was, it sounded rather urgent. Cosmo was tempted to peek, but he wasn't sure dying people were allowed to, so he waited a little longer.

Abruptly the chattering stopped, and was replaced after a brief pause by the sound of footsteps and leaves rustling all around him. When this finally faded, Cosmo opened his left eye.

The first thing he saw was the ground in front of him. The second thing he saw was also the ground. Then a shoe appeared in his field of vision, and somewhere above him, Squid cleared his throat.

"You can get up now, Cosmo. They've left."

"Sorry, Squid. I'm dead. Well, almost. Dying. Any moment now."

"You're not, you know."

"Am too."

"They just shot..."

"Am. Too."

"... some kind of fruit..."

"Am too!"

"... at us. Will you stop that?"

Cosmo opened his other eye, and felt his forehead. Then he stared at his hand. It was covered in something sticky and bright purple. He sniffed at it. It smelled a bit like apples.

He scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off, giving Squid a vaguely embarrassed smile.

"So, the small green fuzzy things ran off, then?"

"Yep. They didn't look too happy. Now what?"

"Maybe it's time we explored this place a little. See if we can find a new ship somewhere. And something to eat. I'm starving."

Squid nodded. "Lead on."

Cosmo peered around the clearing. The forest surrounding them looked much the same on all sides, and the only path leading off was the one the small green fuzzy things had used.

"Very well. This way!" He pointed confidently in a random direction, and strode off.

Ten seconds later, he fell into a hole.

--
[1] Please imagine that I'm making a wavy hand gesture here.

Chapter Three: A Chapter Called Bob.

2005-03-25T07:49:00.000Z

Cosmo came to with a vague feeling that he was in trouble. It was just a hunch, really; or maybe a woman's intuition.[1] Or it could have been something to do with the fact that he was in a jail cell. A jail cell apparently dug out of the earth, and made for somebody about ten times smaller than him. His knees were folded up to his ears, and he very much doubted that he'd ever be able to straighten his neck again. Inches away from his nose was a row of surprisingly sturdy-looking metal bars, and on the other side of these bars was a corridor, also dug out of the earth. He spent a few minutes absorbing these details, and waiting for his memory to wake up and supply him with the rest of the story.

Ah. The small green fuzzy things with the big pointy spears. They hadn't been at all pleased to see him and Squid, and had jabbered angrily at them for quite some time. Any attempts to communicate with them had failed: his mime for "We're quite friendly, I assure you. We will not, for example, wave our arms menacingly and scream in a terrifying manner, like so," had not been received well, but things had really started to go wrong when Squid attempted an interpretive dance to the same effect. Cosmo's memory was hazy on the details, but then the only detail he really needed was the fact that he had ended up locked in this cell with a head that felt as though it might burst at any moment.[2]

He had no more time to ponder the situation and feel sorry for himself, however. A door creaked somewhere nearby, and one of the small green fuzzy things appeared in his limited field of vision. It was, for some reason, wearing a long black cape that billowed dramatically behind it.[3] It began to pace up and down the corridor, jabbering animatedly and with a very serious expression on its fuzzy little green face. Dramatic hand gestures were also involved.[4]

After a while the small green fuzzy thing stopped jabbering and pacing right in front of Cosmo's cell, turned, and looked at him expectantly.

Cosmo peered back, unsure of what to do. The thing obviously didn't understand his language, and took great offence at miming.[5] So he simply gave what he hoped was a non-threatening smile.

It didn't work. The thing screeched something, accompanied by more dramatic hand gestures, turned around and stormed off, cape billowing more dramatically than ever.

Shortly afterwards, two small green fuzzy things with big pointy spears appeared. One of them was carrying a large bundle of keys, and spent a long time looking for the one that fit the cell door. Eventually it succeeded, but even with the door unlocked, it still took them several minutes of very enthusiastic use of their spears to extract Cosmo from the cell.

Once this was successfully negotiated, he was marched[6] down the corridor, through the creaky door he'd heard earlier, up some very steep stairs, and finally out, blinking, into the sunshine. Squid was already there, looking rather dusty and surrounded by more of the small green fuzzy things. He seemed to be vaguely annoyed about something, but Cosmo couldn't tell what; he had no time to ask, because the small green fuzzy things immediately began to poke their big pointy spears at them and gestured towards a narrow path disappearing into a nearby forest. Cosmo and Squid looked at each other, shrugged, and began to move in the direction pointed out.

The forest was unremarkable. Ordinary-looking trees lined the path, complete with ordinary brown trunks, ordinary green leaves, and perfectly normal huge fluffy purple things singing in the branches.

At length they reached a clearing, which was empty apart from a long, low wall, about the same height as the average small green fuzzy thing. The wall was painted white, but there were some very odd bright purple stains on it. They looked a bit like blood stains, if you were colour blind. Facing the wall stood a row of small green fuzzy things, each holding something oversized and suspiciously gun-like.

The small green fuzzy guards prodded them with spears until they both lined up in front of the wall. One of the small green fuzzy firing squad said something under its breath, and the others burst into laughter. Then one of them stepped up to Cosmo and handed him a blindfold. Granted, it was a blindfold designed for somebody with a much smaller head and extendable eyes, but the thought was there.

Suddenly, the black-caped small green fuzzy thing from the prison scene appeared; he carried a piece of paper in one hand, and a grimly determined expression on his face. He stopped in the middle of the clearing, between the prisoners and the firing squad, and jabbered importantly at great length and with many dramatic hand gestures. The speech ended with a look that almost put the firing squad out of a job. Then he stormed off, cape billowing. Dramatically.

Cosmo watched warily as the firing squad raised their weapons and took aim.

"Squid? I just wanted to say..."

"Yes, Cosmo?"

"This is all your fault."

"I hate you, Cosmo."

"Shut up, Squid."

--
[1] Though which particular woman this intuition belonged to was unclear.

[2] Which, by the way, he felt might be an improvement.

[3] This was because, just off camera, another small green fuzzy thing was crouching before him with what looked like a pair of bellows, to provide a breeze for the cape to billow in. Dramatically.

[4] These are easy when you have so many hands to gesture with.

[5] Not that he could have mimed anything at that moment, what with his hands being stuck somewhere under his feet.

[6] This was less dignified than it sounds. The corridors being as low as they were, Cosmo was mostly crawling on his knees, one guard in front leading the way and the other behind him, offering friendly encouragement in the form of a big pointy spear whenever Cosmo didn't go fast enough.[7]

[7] Quite a few times, in fact. The guard obviously took his job very seriously.

Intermission: The Last Dance of the Ninja Pineapple.

2005-03-20T08:12:00.000Z

or,
This is what happens when I proof too much poetry.

or,
A Tribute to Chef Brian.

It is a widely believed fact that frogs and small children can cause holes in the fabric of the universe when applied to each other with enough force. This is why you should always carry suggestively-sized sausages in your handbag, and never go out except on days starting with O.

And while we are on the subject of elevators, here is a little poem I prepared earlier, entitled Fly Away, Little Biscuit Tin:

My myrmidons may mystify
The origin of oranges,
And toothpaste spread on the ceiling fan.
But blue skies do not last forever, dahling,
And even cream cheese must die.
So put on your sparkliest whypslovens
And dance the tango of slight bewilderment.

Behold!
The moose flies to the west.
It is going to rain.
And yet,
There is still the small matter of
Sugar cubes, painted purple and
Arranged in alphabetical order.

How much longer, mon amour?
The answer, of course, is
Maybe.

--
[1] No footnotes today, honey, I have a headache.

Chapter Two: Watch Where You Point That Thing, Sonny.

2005-03-18T09:31:00.000Z

An unremarkable field on an unremarkable planet, somewhere in the far reaches of an unremarkable galaxy. It is 6.30 in the morning. Bob the small green fuzzy thing has just woken up, crawled out of his hole, and is now doing his morning exercises[1].

A small sun is shining half-heartedly down on him, a gentle breeze stirs in the grass, and huge purple fluffy things sit in the trees and sing.

It's a morning much like any other. But something ... is about to happen![2]

A tiny speck has appeared in the sky above Bob, and is growing quite rapidly. Soon Bob becomes aware of a high-pitched buzzing noise. The speck grows larger still. It's vaguely egg-shaped, and seems to be glowing bright red. Another sound mingles with the buzzing; Bob thinks he can hear someone screaming faintly. He untwists his neck, folds all of his knees back into their normal position and extends his eyes as far as they will go to get a better look at the approaching object. He needn't have bothered: the speck is now large enough to block out the sun, and the buzzing and screaming are drowning out all other sounds, even the singing of the purple fluffy things, who are quite oblivious to the commotion.[4]

Despite the small green fuzzy things' famous curiosity, Bob is backing away slowly towards his hole, never taking all of his eyes off the projectile. The screaming is now quite clearly audible.

It goes something like this: ....aaaaaaaaaarghohgodswearegoingtodieanditisallyourfauuuuuuuuuuuuulTHUD.

"THUD" is not, of course, part of the scream, but rather the sound that the object makes when it finally lands in the middle of the field, raising a cloud of dust. And by "lands", I mean "crashes, barely avoiding turning into a giant fireball in the process".

Bob disappears back into his hole without even waiting for the smoke to settle.

"Cosmo?"

"Yes, Squid?"

"Are we dead?"

"I doubt it."

"Why's that?"

"I think if I were dead I wouldn't have your knee in my eye any more. Please stop squirming, will you?"

"Sorry, Cosmo."

Several dazed minutes passed. When the ringing in Cosmo's head subsided to a tolerable level, he began to contemplate getting out of this thing. He pushed the door release button; the only response was a high-pitched whine next to his left ear. He sighed, and waited for his temples to stop throbbing. Then he extended his leg -- as much as extending was possible in that space -- and kicked the door, hard. There was a loud crack. Squid couldn't tell if it came from the door or somewhere else, because for some reason Cosmo had started howling loudly.

Squid waited politely until he'd finished, and asked: "The door won't open, then?"

He received an murderous glare from somewhere around his knees. "No, I just thought we'd be more comfy in here."

"Oh, okay then. Only it looked like you...--"

"Shut up, Squid. You try and get the damn thing open."

"Okay, Cosmo. I'll see if this door handle works, then."

The hatch swung open slowly and with as much creaking as humanly[5] possible. Cosmo and Squid spent a few minutes untangling themselves from one another and then trying to squeeze out of the opening.

Cosmo was the first to climb out. He closed his eyes, stretched his arms, took a deep lungful of air, and opened them again. Then he froze. Someone was sticking a spear in his face. A very large, very pointy spear. He followed the length of it with his gaze. At the other end was a small green fuzzy thing. It looked quite angry; it sounded angry, too.

Before he could say anything, the small green fuzzy thing made a noise that reminded Cosmo of nothing so much as the time when his cat had swallowed a squeaky toy and wouldn't stop burping for hours. But before he had time for another flashback sequence, more spears appeared; they probably had small green fuzzy things attached to them, too, but he didn't feel like checking.

"Umm, Squid?"

"Yes, Cosmo?"

" I think I've found some natives."

--
[1] You know, touching his upper pair of arms to his hind legs, swinging his feelers as far back as they will go, knotting his left-most eye around one ear, that sort of thing.

[2] We know this because the soundtrack has just struck a dramatic chord.[3]

[3] At least it would have, if this blog had a higher budget. And was a movie.

[4] They don't have ears, you see.

[5] Well, doorly.

Chapter One: Attack of the Giant Space Octopuses.[1]

2005-03-11T10:08:00.000Z

"Cos, I think we're going to die."

Cosmo's eyes narrowed as he stared at the approaching shapes. He was compelled to agree with Squid. This time, they really were in deep trouble.

It wasn't that there were so many of the bloody things. It wasn't that they were so big, and so ... tentacled. It wasn't even that they were out of fuel[2], or that in the last few hours unpleasant clunking noises had begun to emanate from what Cosmo liked to refer to as "the bowels of the ship". Nor was it that they were lost in this godsforsaken quadrant of space, hundreds of light years from anything worth putting on a map, or that they only had supplies for another day or so. No, it was ... Cosmo paused, and reconsidered. Actually, it was all of those things, and more.

He watched absently as one of the things' tentacles attached itself to the central screen and obscured any further view of what was going on outside. The noise it made reminded him of his childhood; his grandmother's kisses had sounded exactly like that. She would hand him a slice of freshly baked cake[3], give him one of those big sloppy kisses and say...

"I think they're going to crush us to death."

No, she never said that. She'd say...

"Hey boss, are you listening?"

No, she never called him "boss". She would...--Ow! She also never poked him in the ribs like that. Cosmo gave up trying to remember and returned to reality, where Squid was waving a hand in front of his face and looking at him urgently.

"Yes, what is it? Oh." His glance fell on the view screen, which was now showing nothing but the slimy purple underside of a giant sucker. "The tentacled thingies. Right." He thought for a moment. "Squid, how much ammo do we have left?"

"Erm, we're all out, Cos. Remember, you traded the last of our torpedoes for a month's supply of strawberry cheesecake three weeks ago."

"Oh! Yes! Yes, of course. Great cheesecake, that was. Well, not to worry. We still have that bottle of Giant Space Octopus repellent we bought from that guy at the ... thing. Don't we?"

"No, you drank it all last week. It wasn't real GSO repellent anyway, just vodka with green food colouring mixed in."

"Oh, right. I knew that, of course. Well then, we still have the..." He trailed off, one hand hovering uncertainly in mid-wave. He looked at Squid hopefully, but his friend simply shrugged.

"Told you we were going to die."

The sound of splintering metal came from some remote part of the ship and set Cosmo's teeth on edge. One of the control panels at the back of the bridge flew open and began to spray sparks, for no discernible reason. Warning lights flashed, and an alarm that Cosmo had never heard before blared through hidden loudspeakers.

As Cosmo watched the bridge starting to shrink, he suddenly had an idea. "Squid! To the escape pods!"

"Umm..." began Squid. Cosmo glared at him.

"Don't tell me we've lost those somewhere, too."

"Last week. The poker game with those really unpleasant blue guys...? They got my watch, and your escape pods."

"Damn." Cosmo chewed his lip in frustration, while hairline cracks began to spread across the big screen. "Wait a minute, Squid! I didn't lose that game!"

Squid frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive! To the escape pods!" He pointed dramatically.

"It's this way."

"Shut up."

The escape pods turned out to be escape pod, in the singular, and barely large enough for both of them to squeeze in. But the threat of being hugged to death by giant tentacles can do wonders for your flexibility, and Cosmo finally pulled the hatch shut, despite Squid's knees poking into his left eye.

A moment later the pod was floating in space, and Cosmo watched between Squid's legs as the remaining bits of his ship were crushed by thick green tentacles.

He sniffed. "Goodbye, my sweet Daffodil! You were a fine ship."

"That's not what you used to say. 'Shit pile' I believe was the term?"

"Shut up, Squid. I'm grieving."

They watched in silence as the last Giant Space Octopus released its grip on the Daffodil and started to float away aimlessly, the escape pod too small to attract its interest. All that remained was a pile of debris, bent pieces of metal spinning and colliding in a slow, strange dance.

Cosmo sighed deeply, took one last look at the heart-breaking scene outside, and pushed the large red button in front of him. The engine beneath their feet sprung into life, and the pod arced gracefully across open space towards an unknown destination, where new adventures lay in wait for them.

"Cosmo?"

"Yes, Squid?"

"If you didn't lose that poker game, then how come I never got my watch back?"

"Shut up, Squid."

--
[1] Or Octopi, if you prefer.

[2] Cosmo and Squid, that is. Cosmo wasn't sure what those Things ran on, but it looked like they still had plenty of it.

[3] So freshly baked, in fact, that it would usually scorch his fingers as soon as he touched it. But it's the thought that counts.

Table of Contents.

2005-03-08T14:20:00.000Z

Chapter One: Attack of the Giant Space Octopuses.

Chapter Two: Watch Where You Point That Thing, Sonny.

Intermission: The Last Dance of the Ninja Pineapple.

Chapter Three: A Chapter Called Bob.

Chapter Four: Not the Chapter You Are Looking For.

Chapter Five: And Now for Something Almost, but not Quite, Entirely Unlike the Previous Chapters.

Chapter Six: Doom and ... More Doom.

Chapter Seven: Wingless Elephants Lay Happier Eggs.

Intermission: The Last Pineapple of the Dancing Ninja.

Chapter Eight: When Giant Mutant Killer Thingies From Space Go Bad.

Chapter Nine: It's Probably Best not to Ask.

Chapter Ten: Down With the Space Sickness.

Intermission: The Pineapple Dance of the Last Ninja.

Chapter Eleven: In All the Wrong Places.

Chapter Twelve: Dawn of the Deaf.

Chapter Thirteen: The Campfire Girls Go Paintballing.

Chapter Fourteen: The Clone Ranger.