Monday, April 30, 2007

Xavier visits the Home

Our team divvied up the assignments for the scavenge hunt and went our separate ways. I had to got to the Old Gladiator’s Home on Fire Island 2 and retrieve a pair of false teeth. Alright, that shouldn’t be a problem. I mean I’ve been to Home before and most of the residents are harmless old codgers.

Heading out to the landing pad, I saw an odd assortment of dropships and hoverbikes. I shuddered at the thought of getting back into that rusty old deathtrap of a dropship so I crossed over to the hoverbike.

Moving from my chair to the bike was a strenuous bit of trickiness but I managed it. With great confidence I flipped open the safety and pressed the ignition. The engines hummed satisfactorily to life. Easing back on the throttle, I took into the air.

Passing over the uncharacteristically calm waters of Smoldering Lakes of Agony, I reached Fire Island 2 rather quickly. I could see the compound of the old folks home below me. Several slowly decaying bodies were sprawled out around the 3 foot deep, Olympic Sized pool. I could feel several more minds inside the building. This should be rather straightforward.

I landed the hoverbike next to the Tapioca Pudding vendor and set the controls on idle. Just as I was about to get about solving the task, another vehicle landed near the pool. In the pilot’s seat was a tall man in bee keeper’s outfit. Henchman!

How perfect. He has no defenses to my telepathic powers. I reached into his mind and easily took control of him. Henchman tried to resist, but it was futile.

“Hey! Looks like you done learned to fly that darn thing!” a gravely voice shouted out from behind me, seconds before a large gnarled old hand smacked into my back. I was startled I almost lost my grip on Henchie.

Turning around, I saw it was Bone Grinder, that worn out, yet surprisingly strong, old Gladiator I had meet last year.

“Aren’t you dead yet?” I asked.

He stared at me for a moment, all glass-eyed. Then he threw his back and laughed. “I like you, Baldy!” he shouted.

“Lucky me.”

“You know what I’m a gonna do for ya? I’m a gonna let you take a free poke at me. Go ahead. Right in the gut. Give it your best shot!”

“I am not going to hit you,” I assured him.

“Come on! Swing away! I can takes it!”

“I have no doubt you can “take it,” but I have no interest in hitting you.”

“Come on!” he bellowed, closing his eyes and thrusting out his jaw. “Right here! Right on the chin!”


I had Henchman run over and tap Bone Grinder in the jaw. Bone Grinder’s eyes flew open and he seemed startled to see the bee keeper.

“Uh, wha’?” was all he said. I reached into his mind and put him to sleep. Bone Grinder fell to the cement floor like a sack of potatoes. When his head hit the ground, his false teeth popped out.

With a large smile on my face, I had Henchman bend over, pick them up and hand them to me. After I had taken off to the sky, I erased Henchman’s memory and released him. Hopefully the others did as well as I did.

Poke My What??

“Alright then, that’s two votes for Pimps and Players and three votes for Evil Eye Candy,” I told our assembled team. “If there are no objections, it looks like we are Evil Eye Candy.”

The others nodded in agreement. That satisfied, I moved on to the next important topic. “So where shall we have lunch today? Does anyone want to try the Gladiator’s Grub Bag? Or maybe-“

“What about voting for team leader?” Svetlana asked. “Shouldn’t we settle that first?”

Seeing Petrelli’s eyes light up, I answered cooly, “I don’t think that’s really necessary. We seem to be functioning well at the moment. Let’s go the Grub Bag and continue-“

Before I could finish, a small hovering robot swooped in from the open window and floated above our table. A holographic image of Jon, the Intergalactic Gladiator appeared beneath it. He read us the second challenge. Then he announced that our team name was Pokemybootie.

"Poke my what?" asked Zebulon incrediously.

"I think that's illegal in some states," I said.

"It's really not that bad," Petrelli chipped in. "In fact, in can be pretty fun."

"Whatever," said Kriss. "Let's just get on with this."

“Well, the scavenger hunt sounds like fun,” Svetlana said. The Dark Jedi just rolled her eyes at her.

“I’m taking the Banana Pen,” Kriss announced.

“I can do the Scale and the Helmet, if no one wants them,” offered Zebulon.

Svetlana was next at the table. “The Guest Pass I could probably do.”

That left only Petrelli and myself. We stared at each other for a long minute. “I’m doing the Memorabilia,” he stated. I just nodded.

“That leaves the False Teeth for me. Time is of the essence. I’ll see you all back at the finish line.”

“Um, what about lunch?” Svetlana asked.

“Something to look forward to when you finish,” I told her. “Let’s go team!”

I'll never be caught dead wearing a bikini.

So after our meeting with Professor Xavier, we received another message. Somebody set us up the treasure hunt. We get signal. Main screen turn on, and all that jazz.

I was too busy eating my last store of Twinkies to pay attention to what was going on. All I knew is that someone shoved an order into my hands that said I needed to get a one-hour guest pass for the Deadly Waterslide o' Fun, because as we all know, I look wonderful in a bikini. Mohinder already knows that because he has nightmares of me wearing one all the time.

I had to put my plan into action and figure out how to go about getting this guest pass without looking too desperate. Grabbing a hoverbike was out -- I kind of broke the first one (oops!) One of those dropships was looking better. I found one on the larger side, got in, and started pressing buttons and pulling levers until the ship started moving (if spinning around in circles in one place is considered moving). I don't like flying. It took me a while to figure out how to get the damn thing to fly straight since I don't fly for reasons I've already stated.

Where on Earth was I going to find a guest pass for this thing? I stopped at the first place I came across -- a small shop on one end of Fire Island appropriately named Betty's Buxom Bikini Bordello. Sounded like the kind of shop for a girl like me. I was greeted by a rather large catlike thing that towered over me by at least a foot, sporting nothing but a pink bikini.

"Oh, hello!" she greeted me, waving someone's pair of boxers over her head. In the corner I saw a Marine holding a helmet over his...yes, well, anyways, he was turning a shade of red that can only be described as supernova crimson. The cat-woman twirled the pair of boxers around her head and tossed them into the nearest dressing room area. "Welcome to Betty's Buxom Bikini Bordello. My name's Mozyr. What can I do you for?"

I raised a brow at her. The Marine was attempting to casually side-step his way to the dressing room to gather his unmentionables. "I'm trying to find a one hour guestpass for the Deadly Waterslide O' Fun. I figured that here would be a good enough place to ask for one."

"Depends on how much you're willing to pay."

"Mozyr?" That name sounded familiar. Wait, that's right! Kirrock's pictures! Thankfully I'd snagged them out of his GM Bible before he left since I had a feeling I'd need them for something. "I do have these." I handed the pictures over to her.

Another scantily-clad cat-woman traipsed out from one of the dressing rooms, sneakily hiding the Marines boxers behind her back. "Oh, nice pictures! Who's the droid? Oh, and who's that green-haired one? One too many Jedi Mind Tricks will make you think you're that flexible. Then you wake up the next morning and realize--" she stopped in mid-sentence. I was kind of relieved that she left that thought where she did. Something tells me I didn't want to know the rest of it. "Where did you find these pictures, anyways?"

"Some guy named Kirrock had them hidden away in a--" I started.

"THAT TWO-FACED SON OF A BANTHA! He told me he'd gotten rid of these ages ago!" Mozyr flipped through the pictures. "If I promise to give you a free one hour guest pass to the Deadly Waterslide O' Fun, will you swear to me that you won't leak these pictures to the press? We're an honest business here, just trying to get by."

"Even if I knew where to go to leak them, no. I think those are the only copies Kirrock had..."

"Kirrock always keeps copies. He's a clone. That's what clones do. They make copies of everything including themselves." Mozyr turned to her co-worker. "Jenny, go get her a guest pass to keep her quiet." She ogled me up and down for a moment. "And throw in a free bikini. I think we have a nice corset breastplate that would really look great on you."

And so, an hour later not only had I procured myself a guest pass to the Deadly Waterslide O' Fun, but I also got a free bikini out of it that makes me look like Attila the Hun, complete with breastplate and matching cuisses.

The Marine is still missing his boxers.

(On an OOC note: Thanks so much to my friend Scott for the pictures. You can check out the rest of his Super Temps! characters like Jenny here.)

Lost pooch

Ladies and Gents,

I am looking for this Dog.

I brought him with me, He was suppose to take out Baldy. Charles has allergies to bees. However, This thing is bugging Gyrobo.

If found, please drop off at local glue factory.

Dental for All.

Dr.Polaris rules.

Funtastic scavenger hunt!

OK so I got paired up with Gyrobo. Well I can do this. " Bob Dole is the master of evil!" He shouts. OK maybe not. I decided to get the Helmet from a marine. And Private Hudson is right here.

I just needed a plan. The robot apparently having a lucid moment asks. "Isn't this lazy? I mean we're not really going anywhere."

" You have noticed my costume is a t-shirt and jeans right?" I grin. " Actually we do have to go somewhere, though I need to pick up someone on another planet for this to work.

After we went there, and came back, I built a tent and waited for Hudson to walk by. I used some Mega phone attachment On Gyrobo. " Come one! Come all to the make out with hot chicks tent!"

Yeah that got Hudson's attention. he kinda leaped over to us. " What's the catch""

I couldn't talk for a moment because the robot freaked out and started slapping me shouting "bees! bees! bees!"

I throw him off of me. " Stop hitting me! That wasn't a bee! it was firefly! "

The cold metal eyes focus on me. " Well fireflies are responsible for over one death a year. "

" OK then... moving along. Any way Hudson for ten dollars you can make out with and maybe more with the hot babe inside this tent!"

" Is it Wonder woman ?" He asks drooling.

" Nah. Man it's the girl you been askin' me about since I got here, Supergirl." I grin.

" Bring her on! " Hudson yells.Taking off his helmet to brush his hair.

" Ya know dude you should let me hold your helmet while ya go in there." I'm still smiling.

" Sure thing Kon! You know I was wrong about you!" He says giving me two five dollar bills, and his helmet and he runs into the tent.

As I give one to Gyrobo I hear Hudson scream. "What is this thing?"

" Oops did I say Supergirl? " I couldn't help but start laughing. " I meant Bizzaro Supergirl!" What? did you think I'd really pimp out my cousin?

" You am not hot man!" BBSG Shouts. " Me no want to hug you!"

"I'm glad of that !" Hudson sighs not realizing bizzaros say the opposite of what they mean. She grabs on to him , and hugs. " Arrgh!"

As we walk away we hear. " Me no want to kiss you no give you tongue!"

Then Hudson hollering "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

" Hey. Gyrobo Thanks for negotiating with her back on Bizzaro World. I'm not all that good at Bizzaro speak."

" I knew how to speak Bizzaro long before you were a gleam in a test tube's eye!"

" I have no idea what to say to that. " I laugh. " Anyway I got the marine's helmet, what do you want to get? And how can I help you? "

Super Duper Scavenger Hunt Plan

Mr. Bennet sets the plan in motion....

This is big! This is important! As Jon said, we've kicked it up a notch. I wasn't aware we still used notches, seems a little outdated.

"Teacups!" I yelled. Nobody turned. "Henchy and the Pussycats!" Henchman and Synth-Lin turned around excitedly. "You other people! Team-O Supremo?"

Finally, I had everyone's attention. "So, we're going on a scavenger hunt," I began. "Any great strategic ideas?"

Nathan Petrelli spoke up, "I was thinking I'd let my volunteers handle this."

"What are you, a spy?" Synth-Lin asked. She stared at him hard.

He shot her his patented Nathan Petrelli smile. After what seemed like a whole minute, he finally said, "You know, I've never been with a synthetic woman before, a cripple yes, but synthetic no."

"Yeah, well there's a bald cripple waiting for you on your side of the barracks, so get out of here!" she replied.

Nathan left smiling.

"Okay, so now can we strategize?" I asked.

"Aren't you afraid of the Professor reading our thoughts?" Kon-El asked.

I explained, "Telepathy is overrated. I used to have a friend that could prove it, but he shot me and ran away with my daughter."

A few jaws dropped. People looked confused. If there's anything 15 years in the paper business has taught me, it's how to read people. And these people were confused.

"It's a long story, but that doesn't matter. We need a plan!" I stood up, and dramatically walked around the room. "A plan to end all plans!"

"Whoa, are you saying we blow something up?" Gyrobo asked.

"Well, maybe. But perhaps we could just split the items between us? Or pair off and each pair take two items?"

Oneida quickly spoke up. "As long as I'm not with that freaky Lohan chick."

"I'm already taken," Synth-Lin responded. She looked over at Henchman. "Right, Henchy?"

I could tell Henchman was put on the spot with that question, so I stepped in to rescue him from any damaging comment I'm sure was on his mind. "How about this? Synthy and Henchy, Kon-El and Gyrobo, and that leaves...."

Oneida looked upset, but then smiled and asked, "Are you going to do most the scavenging?"

"I suppose."

"So I can relax and soak in the hot tub?"



Well, everyone looked contented. Perhaps we have a plan? Who knows....we can only wait and see how it unfurls. Now we need to choose items....who wants what?

Galaxy Famous Banana Shaped Pens

We need a banana shaped pen for this hunt, so they send me. Easy enough, right? Oh, no. Not for me.

I rushed into the Monkeyboy’s Embassy girt shop and asked the little guy behind the counter if he had any banana shaped pens.

“Of course I do! I am half monkey, lady!” he says happily.

“I need one.”

He looked at me like I grew horns. “No way! I’m not selling one of my Galaxy Famous Banana Shaped Pens to you!”

“Why not?”

“I not crazy enough to sell a banana shaped pen to a Jedi Knight!” Monkeyboy says.

WHAT? “Why not?” I asked again.

“You might kill me with it.”

“I might kill you if you don’t,” I thought.

Then smiled I real sweet like and said, “I need for the Last Gladiator Standing 2 show. I’m a contestant. Can I talk you in to helping a girl out?” I leaned on the counter and flashed my lashes at him.

He blinks at me, almost as if he had never had a girl flirt with him before. I played this up.

“Please? I can get you tickets to a taping of the show…” More lashes, a bigger smile.

“That isn’t going to work,” A voice in my head pipes in. “Just kill him and take it.”

“Shut up,” I muttered.

Monkeyboy looks confused. “Excuse me?”

“Not you,” I said smiling more.

“EWWWW you are flirting with a half monkey dude! YUK!” Another voice says.

“Shut up!”

“Huh?” goes Monkeyboy.

“Still not you,” I told him.

Finally Monkeyboy smiles at me. “I’ll make you a deal. You let me play with your lightsaber and I’ll give you one for free.”

Not the best idea but I did it anyway. I hand him my saber and he hands me a banana shaped pen. What is so darn special about these things anyway? I think to myself.

“D.J. don’t touch the- “ a voice starts to say just as I run my finger over the top and BAM link shoots out the bottom and slaps a rather large Wookie standing on the other side of the shop in the face like it was supercharged.


Now I see. Pointless but I can see where the fun could be had.

As for Monkeyboy, he ignited my saber, while looking inside the emitter. I jumped over the counter and shoved his face away before he lost his fuzzy head. The blade cut through a window behind us.

I got the pen for free but I had to pay for the window. Monkeyboy said it was the saber’s fault and therefore my fault.

He asked me out, too. That’s I get for flirting.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Stranger and stranger

After a team meeting which I could only guess that most of us except for Professor Xavier and myself were out for revenge( DJK qualifies for the revenge corner) , we had gotten pretty much no where. Not to mention when I had tried to call Pho to check up on things, communications went down around the island for a half hour. I was getting ticked off and fast.

When communications came back up the list of items scrolled across my com unit screen. I saw the two I would go for, even though I didn't pick them myself. A scale from a sea serpent and a Colonial Marine’s helmet. There was a black hover cycle with a red dragon wrapping around the sides.. Well this day was getting slightly better now wasn't it?

Grabbing that one I headed for the coast. I could hear the roar of the ocean waves as I peered down over the cliff towards the sea. I sat there for a moment looking, searching both visually and in the force as well for my target.

I was nearly knocked off the bike when she came shooting up past me.. I'll just call her Andromeda for now . Simple reason being this whole challenge reminded me of the story of Peruses and Andromeda.. Her scales were about the same color as the stones that littered the ocean floor near the shoreline.

The teeth.. well yeesh the teeth were like swords just waiting to come out and rip you to pieces. I would have to be careful.
Her eyes were fixed on me and her head shot straight for the cycle forcing me to dive straight down into the waves. The remains of the cycle rained down on me as I tried to gain some distance from the shoreline.
Fast as a wraith Andromeda was after me and had dipped below into the waves, swimming downward. Another quick slide saved me from being sea serpent chow. But unfortunately she had kicked up a lot of sand and dust in her wake. I got blindsided and remained hovering in the water for a few minutes, rebreather in my mouth peering in the dark for any sign of her. She had simply vanished.

Was I dealing with another creature brought back from the dead? My guess was as good as anyone else's at this point.

Water pounding in my ears I heard the force scream for me to turn . I did at the last moment, Andromeda swimming by me knocking a panel from the cycle up into my arm like a shield. Well, it was worth a shot.

I surfaced and whistled shrilly to get Andromeda's attention . Her head turned and suddenly became fixated on her own reflection. For what seemed like hours I hovered there watching as she preened herself, scales flying everywhere. Each were about the size of a stone tablet, so hauling one back would be well, difficult without the cycle. But then on the shore I heard the sound of mechanical gears. Lasers opened fire on Andromeda and she roared in pain as one hit her neck.

Swimming past her I gestured for whoever it was to stop shooting. thankfully they listened and after giving what force energy I was able to her, Andromeda disappeared into the depths. I climbed out of the water, dripping to the bone to witness something I have to say I have never seen before..
A young man about my age came towards me with a military like look on his face. " I'm Colonel Karl Lichen Shubaltz. If you don't mind me asking, were you trying to get yourself killed?"He was near to yelling.

I could only laugh for several minutes" No just trying to retrieve a scale from a sea serpent"

" A sea serpent? But I thought for sure that was another one of Prozen's tricks.. Blast my brother must've mixed up the calibrations in the Kong again" He looked highly ticked off at that thought.

An idea came to mind" Tell you what, I'll help where I can to fix up your targeting system, you give me a lift back to the mainland with the scale?"
Karl nodded and I set to work. It was only a simple matter of crossing the turbine mechanical thrusters with the organoid's databank and then uploading all the data.. As I was working Karl seemed intent on asking me questions while I managed to get a coffee out of the deal. I was freezing cold.
" So your a Jedi knight?"
" Yes from a planet called Corellia"
" And your grandfather.. he trained you in martial arts? What sort? Standard military issue is judo and jujitsu"
" Shotokan , not as easy as it looks. I've been training since I was a youngling"
" I saw that other woman with the same kind of weapon you have" he said pointing to the saber at my hip, which thankfully hadn't gotten fried in the water." is she a friend of yours?"
" Of course, DarkJediKriss and I have known each other for a while"
Here he blushed" oh is she your.. um.. girlfriend? or wife?"
Excuse me while I sit my coffee down so I don't laugh myself silly












" No.. she's not.. But I am married though. One of the most wonderful women a man could ever hope to have. her name is Phobia Deimos. She's a Jedi knight like me."

A perplexed look crossed Karl's face" But I thought Jedi weren’t allowed to be married"

Oh boy here we go," It's complicated.. I'll tell you about it on the way back okay?"
On our way back to the mainland I explained to Karl what was going on about the council not knowing about our marriage and everything else. He nodded a grave look on his face" Well Godfrey, I have to say you remind me of Thomas a bit"
This had me curious" how so?"
He smiled back at me from where I was trying not to freeze while watching the scenery. The heating system was on the fritz in this zoid, as he called it. It looked likea monkey with guns. Apparently there were several diffrent types of these zoids, each a diffrent animal.

" You both love to help people, and your heart lies with the woman you love. In my brother's case an ancient Zoidian named Fiona."
The Iron Kong stopped just short of the meeting place at the barracks. " Before you leave, I have something for you"
He tossed me his army helmet from somewhere under the control panel . " You said you needed a Colonial Marine’s army helmet? Well I think this fits the bill"
I couldn't help but grin" Thanks Karl!" This ended my search sooner than I expected
He waved as he and the Kong disappeared to where, I have no clue.
Now if you'll excuse me, I think some dry clothes and a nap are in order
Until Later

Challenge #2

The challenge has been cast. The gauntlet thrown down. Many have been called, few have answered. On the planet Hacknor... On Fire Island D, brave contestants will compete. Who will falter? Who will thrive? Who will be

Welcome to round two, everyone. Time for us to kick it up a notch. Bam!

That’s right contestants, going from round one to round two is taking it to the next level. Bam!

And in this round you’ll be participating in a scavenger hunt! Pow!

Take a look at the list below, Kafoom! Your team needs to work together to get these items. Bang!

Ahem, sorry about this folks, I’ve got a touch of Space Tourrets Syndrome. I’ll get a shot to take care of that right away.

OK, get together with your team to figure out the best way to get these items, and you can go individually or in groups. The first team back with every member and all of the items on the list below wins. You are allowed to use the Colonial Marine dropships or hovercycles to get around the islands. The items are:

1. A scale from a sea serpent.
2. A piece of Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator Memorabilia from the Horizon Amphitheater on Fire Island 9.
3. A set of false teeth from the Old Gladiator’s Home on Fire Island V2.
4. A one-hour guest pass for the Deadly Waterslide o’ Fun.
5. A Colonial Marine’s helmet.
6. A banana-shaped pen from the Monkeyboy Embassy gift shop on Fire Island M (The M stands for Monkeyboy).

That’s the list, you are allowed to obtain these items any way you can.

But before you go, I wasn’t a big fan of the team names that you’ve been working on so I named you myself. The Pokemybootie Team is named after an indigenous tribe once located on Fire Island P here on Hacknor. A brave and noble race of people who unfortunately all contracted some strange and unknown disease where they yelled onomatopoeia at each other and then died. Team-O Supremo is, of course, named after that delicious burrito I had for lunch.

So is everyone ready to go?

On your mark!

Get Set!


Last Gladiator Standing II was brought to you in part by Crazy Eddie's Used Hoverbikes!

That's Crazy Eddie's Used Hoverbikes.

Get down here now and get a hoverbike right away!

Prices so low you'd think that I suffered some sort of brain damage or something!

That's Crazy Eddie's Used Hoverbikes!

Get 'em while they're hot! Uh, figuratively speaking, of course. They're not stolen or anything.

All Hoverbikes sold as-is no warranty available. Please wear a helmet.

Challenge #1, the Vote

The challenge has been cast. The gauntlet thrown down. Many have been called, few have answered. On the planet Hacknor... On Fire Island D, brave contestants will compete. Who will falter? Who will thrive? Who will be

OK folks, this is where one of you gets the boot. This is the part I hate the most. Honest.

Which contestant had a little trouble getting off the launch pad?

Who just couldn't get those thrusters going?

Who's smooth and enormous, powerful rocket-firing -- oh I'm sorry the censors are waving frantically at me.

Blockade Boy, you are not the Last Gladiator Standing, goodbye.

Stay tuned for the next challenge.

Last Gladiator Standing II was brought to you in part by

Olsen Space Wine.

If you're rocketing to the next galaxy with your friends or just relaxing on the space station, nothing says satisfying like a bottle of Olsen Space Wine.

Olsen Space Wine, the only space wine that will make this spaceman make that goofy face.

meetin' at the hot tub.

Ok I called ya all here today To discuss the team name The two suggestions so far... Leave a little to be desired.

" Hey! " Synth Lin Shouts in her way to hot to be a robot bikini. " What's wrong with Henchy and the Pussy Cats?"

" Nothing. If your Henchy. " I say. " Oh and good work on getting or team immunity big hand for her everyone!" Everyone but the paper selling guy went with my suggestion there. " Oh and good work on hitting Hudson That guy kept askin' me for Supergirl's number. "

Henchy glared at me " Who made you the leader kid?"

" No one. " I admit. " Just sayin' we need a team name and My hot tub is convenient place to meet is all if you want to lead go for it Henchy."

" Nah. I'm a second in command guy. "

" OK how about a team name ? "

" I like masters of destruction. Or Devastators."

"The Filibusters!" Gyrobo manically yells. " One time I traveled in time, and met Roosevelt and he would...."

" OK then." I state.

" You have to be aggressive to be the best paper salesman at Primatch paper." Bennet announces. I have to say he's the first person I've ever seen wear a suit in a hot tub." And to win at this we have to be aggressive how about the Aggressors? Or the Winners? "

" Good suggestions. " I tell him.

How about The Troopers?" Lt.Cmdr Oneida suggests. She's pretty cute too.

" That's good." I smile.

" What do you want kid?" Henchman asks.

" Hmmm Titans?"

" No! " Henchman snorts

" Ok How about The New Justice Team?"

" You got that from an episode of Futarama. No."

I racked my brains here. Then I got it? Maybe. "The All Stars?"

" Hmmm I could live with it." Henchman shrugs.

" OK how about we all vote for it? And anymore names anyone wants to give?"

Team Meeting

"Greetings. My name is Charles Xavier and I run a school for gifted students near New York City. That's on planet Earth for those of you from far away galaxies."

The rather menacing looking woman in the dark robe nodded slightly at me. Fire appeared to dance in her eyes. Fortunately I had met Jedi before, though never one quite so dark. The man sitting across from Kriss, Zebulon I think his name was, gave me a much warmer smile. Apparently he's a Jedi, too, though I can only assume from a different order.

"Now before we select a team name," I continued, "there are a few points-"

"Wait a minute," a gravely male voice interrupted. "Who says you get to chair this meeting? I think that as an elected representative of the people, I am most qualified to run our group." It was that Petrelli character. Definitely something sinister about him too. I did a quick mind probe, just scanning the surface, and was rather surprised to see that he had super powers. We'll have to see if he's a hero or not.

"Well maybe we should have a vote," suggested Svetlana Smith, a rather large and friendly woman. "It would be like voting for class president."

"It wouldn't be America if we didn't get to vote," said Blockade Boy. "Now the right way to do this is by secret ballot. We could-"

"Well I don't know that we need to select a leader for our team," I interrupted. "After all, one of us is about to go back home."

"What do you mean?" asked Svetlana.

"He means that the other team won this weeks challenge," said Dark Jedi Kriss with a hostile glare. "One of our team is going to be voted off. It would be kind of sad if it was our leader, don't you think?"

"Perhaps we should just pick a name for the team then," offered Zebulon. "We can always pick a leader, if it becomes necessary."

"Okay, any suggestions?" I asked.

There was a long silence at the table. "How about Petrelli's Pals?" Petrelli suggested. More silence followed.

"Minions of the Sith," Kriss offered.

"The New All Winners Squad," threw out Blockade Boy.

"The Twinkies!" said Svetlana.

"Actually," I interrupted, "most of the teams I'm associated with have some kind of X in the title. It's just a tradition."

"Oh? You into porn?" asked Petrelli sarcastically. My cheeks turned red. "How about Pimps and Players then? Sound good, Charlie?"

"Not particularly. Any serious suggestions?"

"The Gladiators," he said. "Or Gladiators, the Next Generation."

"A little obvious, perhaps."

"Evil Eye Candy."

"Ooh, I like that," said Kriss with surprising enthusiasm.

"Fine, let's put it to a vote then, unless there are other suggestions."

In my downtime...

After winning the first round. It was so unexpected. I thought Svetlana had won it. Really I did. I had a lie down then I remembered Kon's hot tub.I ask some of the other contestants whether they knew where Kon had the hot tub. They didn't know. Then that rat Hudson rushes up and tells me he knows where it is. I take this with a pinch of salt. He leads me to this disaster.
"C'mon baby I just want to help you fulfill you sex-bot programing." pleads the sleaze.
I slap him. I hear a crack. I think I broke his jaw.
"Arrrrrgh!" wails the little sleaze in pain.
I take him to the infirmary where, when the nurses find out what I'd done give me a standing ovation. In fact when I got back to my quarters there was a note and a package for me. The note was from Jon IG telling me that officially my actions could lead to being kicked out. But unoffically he told me he laughed his ass off. The package was from Koma. I opened it up and....
"Warrrrrk! Surprise!" shouted an oversized Crow.
"Vandal! Koma rebuilt you." I was very surprised. Cause the last time I saw him he was lying in pieces at my feet after saving me from the Crow Queen.
"Yep." confirmed the crow. "So you haven't been voted out yet."
"What makes you think I'd be voted out." I asked back.
"Well c'mon your the straight girl and I'm the rascly and lovable synthoid Crow. Girl we're a duo, like Abbot and Costello, Martin and Lewis, Clinton and Lewinsky." Vandal spreads out his wings and finished his speach with. "Without me there's no way you can win."


Later in the postal office on Fire Island D.

"Karl there's something stuck in the mail chute. Can you check on that." asks Ralph.

Karl goes to the mail chute picks up a hammer and gives it a whack. The chute vibrates and then a package poorly wrapped falls into the basket. The package flies open and Vandal emerges.
"Wark! That ungrateful sow!" cries Vandal. "Save the girls life and how does she repay me. Tries to get rid of me. You don't get rid of Vanfal that easily girlie."

Karl watches as the Crow flies out of the Postal Office.
"Chutes unstuck Ralph it was just a talking Crow." says Karl.
"Good." answers Ralph.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Judgment #1

Hello everyone. Your Judgment has arrived. These harsh words, or not harsh words however you take it, are not meant to be mean. I am not Simon. I am trying to help you, not make you cry.

Simon made me cry a few times. He’s a bad man.

So here’s what I am doing. I am judging everyone on Quality.

This means – Did you throw your post together? Does it seem to be well written? Did you misspell the words? Are the mechanics in order?

I am judging on Originality.

This means – Did you jack the idea from something? Or if you did jack the idea did you use an exact copy, or did you mix it up?

I am judging on Entertainment.

This means – Was it amusing? Was it cool? Was it gripping? Did it make me want to have someone else read it? Did it make me laugh.

I am judging on two other catagories, both of which can get points minused from your score.

This means – Post on time. Don’t post pictures that take up the whole screen. (I do like pictures just not ones that don’t fit on my 748x1024 screen.) Don’t make me need a coffee to get through your posts. (I hate coffee)


Now for the individual judging… In order of posts.

Godfrey Zebulon – Hello. It was interesting to read your post. I had a little bit of a hard time following it. It was a little erratic. I liked it, I honestly did. It was amusing. You misspelled the word Challenge in the title.
(MTG Card – Mindslaver) – Take control of someone’s mind.

Dark Jedi Kriss – I loved it. It amused me. You misspelled the word Challenge in the title… I’m sorry… Keep up the good work.
(MTG Card – Hull Breach) – Love the quote.

Henchman – It was short dude. It seemed like you didn’t really want to write it.
(MTG Card – Flowstone Thropter) – Seemed appropriate for Brak.

Gyrobo – What can I say? The great Gyrobo graces us again with his weird-en-ing presence. I loved the post. It was good. I didn’t follow the pictures.
(MTG Card – Homarid Warrior) – I loved Great Crawdad of Baghdad.

Synth-Lin – What can I say. I laughed. I thought it was very funny. Nice use of pictures. Not difficult to follow. Nice use of flattery.
(MTG Card – Bribery) – No better way to win a judge’s heart.

Mr. Petrelli – It was to the point. I liked it. Well written, easy to follow.
(MTG Card – Mountain Yeti) – Yeti is not a Wookie.

Kon-El – Nice post. Little hard to follow. Nice use of nudity at the end.
(MTG Card – Old Fogey) – Old people…

Mr. Bennet – Did you finish your series of posts? I liked what you had, it was well written and amusing, but it was sort of long.
(MTG Card – Stupor) – What our president is when he made the new education laws.

Svetlana – Interesting way to go about things. I liked your humor. It was very, very long. Constructive criticism, think about who you are writing to. Bloggers who grow up on video games and TV. Shorter, but with the same quality and humor.
(MTG Card – Ach Hans Run!) – Cool card. Thought of it when you said you were running.

Blockade Boy – Hey baby, how you doing? I liked it. I think I am a generation or two younger then you sweet-heart. I didn’t pick up on the refernces. The post was well written and I loved the old comic pictures.
(MTG Card – Vedalkan Shackles) – I like the ability better then the card labeled Shackles.

Professor X – Hey, good to see you again Prof. It was well written and amusing as always Professor.
(MTG Card – Final Fortune) – Whenever you are desperate it helps out.

Lt. Cmdr. Oneida – Welcome to LGS. Good to see you here. As always, I like your quality and your humor. But cutting in line is wrong.
(MTG Card – Chaos Moon) – I couldn’t find a coffee or espresso card, so I chose another keyword.

And the winner is, after a close race between four of the contestants.

It was close. Like on my scoring system they were very close…

I mean, really close…

I mean…

Synth-Lin, Congrats on Immunity for your team…

For those of you new to this. Synth-Lin’s Team. (Team 1, as of now) Get immunity, that means all of the people on Team 2 (Not Synth-Lin’s Team) vote for the member they want to get rid of. To vote, they send who they want gone to Jonny, and Jonny takes care of it.

Good luck with votes Team 2.

If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some serious… Things I need to be doing.

Hugs and Kisses,
Erifia Apoc.

PS. I hope I didn’t offend anyone. I actually do care about your feelings.


Crap, I’m late. This always happens when I take the Alderanian space company. Those people have no concept of time, your lucky if the flight leaves on the right day. Do you have any idea how many cups of espresso I’ve had to make sure I didn’t sleep through boarding? I race to the remaining dropship to take me to the space station. My remedial marine pilot has fallen asleep, drooling on his collar. I quickly stow my gear and sit in the copilots seats. Perking up, he looks up at me. “Welcome, I’m Private Richard Payne, but friends call me Dick for short.” Passing on the obvious comments, I smile at the Private. “Hi, I’m kinda in a hurry, could we speed this up some?” He nods, pulls out a thick dog eared binder with the title “Takeoff Procedures for Dummies” and begins flipping through.

Hmm, this bodes ill.

I plug my combat slicing deck into ships system, connect to the cortex, hunt around a bit for a dropship driver and hope for the best. As Payne peruses through the book, I lean over, flip a series of switch, place a pink sticky note on the control yoke identifying as such as well as ones that state which is port and what is starboard, in appropriately colored sticky notes, of course, then sit back in my seat.

Encouraged, Payne starts up the ship. I pick up my deck and help things along some. “Wowsers, this seems a lot easier than last time, and I’m so much further off the ground than I’ve ever been before,” the good private commented. “But if you’re doing this, Ma’am, that’s not gonna teach me nothing.” I smile reassuringly at the private, “no worries, I’m simply organizing my iTunes list, syncing my phone with Naboo Outlook, and answering a few emails. I’d never dream of depriving you of a training opportunity.” I programmed in the fastest route to the space station, sat back and hoped that Payne didn’t do anything spectacularly dumb to mess things up. It’s not like he’s pvt. Hudson.

We grace I’m sure he didn’t know he had, Payne navigated the dropship onto the space station, drawing a round of applause. As I raced to level 12, I wondered if I’d inadvertently just helped an incompetent man earn his wings. Oh well, not my service or my galaxy. As I head toward the pods, I see a Starbuckers. Hmm, another coffee wouldn’t be a bad idea. My incessant twitching, a dirty look and an impatient sight get me to the front of the line. I grab the latte and run. I find a pod, hop in, press the eject button and head towards the slalom course. With the focus that only large amounts of caffeine or Adderol can provide, I steer the craft toward the first of the six buoys. While the little vessel looks sleek, it handles like a cantankerous Yugo. I’d forgotten that one of the criticisms of LGS1 had been the poor equipment quality. You’d think that the trip on the dropship would clued me in on the fact that the issue hadn’t been dealt with. I dodge the six buoys, slingshot around and head back towards the station.

I wonder how well the brakes on this badboy work.

Not well

I end up circling around the moon a few times to reduce my velocity then head back towards the station. I bring the craft in, land my Yugo in one of the designated compact stops and jump out. “Lt. Cmdr Oneida present!”

Friday, April 27, 2007

Xavier joins the fray

No sooner had my shuttle landed on Hacknor than I was led across the tarmac to a row of rather drab looking drop ships.

"Hey Professor, glad you could make it!" Jon said, slapping the back of my hover chair. "Here's your first challenge. And this is your pilot."

Jon handed me a sheet of paper and waved behind him to a rather large cheery fellow with a giant dome over his head. The man saluted sharply.

"Hello, Professor. I'm Buzz. Buzz Lightbright. It'll be my pleasure to fly you up to the station."

Figuring this was part of the first challenge, I left my luggage on the landing pad and followed him to the ship. The silence was getting a little awkward so I decided to make small talk.

"So tell me Buzz, how many of these flights have you made?"

"Including this one? One."

"What? This is your first time flying?"

"Oh I've done the simulators hundreds of times. I have an 87% survival rate. You only need an 85% before you can make actual flights."

Gulping, I hurried into the shuttle and quickly snapped on my seat belt. Logically, of course, I realize that a little canvas strap wouldn't do much if this space ship crashed into something, but it still reassured me.

To my surprise, and great relief, we arrived at the station without incident. At my request Buzz had flown very slowly, which meant most of the other contestants had already departed. Looking down the line of empty launch pads, I saw there was only one pod racer left. Typical.

It looked like a total run down, rusted out piece of junk. Fortunately it was wheelchair accessible at least. I docked my chair and turned back to the pilot. Buzz was still standing outside the door.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked.

"In that deathtrap? Forget it."

"B-but-" I tried to protest, but he had already shut the portal.

Shaking my head, I looked around for the ignition switch. Flood lights, air conditioner, AM-FM radio . . where the heck was the ignition?

"10 seconds to launch," a metallic voice boomed.

Oh crap! Let's see . . turn signal, harpoon cannon, cigarette lighter

"5 seconds to launch."

"Damn . . where the hell was the ignition?!

"3 . . 2 . . 1 . . LAUNCH!"

With a jarring jolt, the hull floor dropped away and my pod plummeted down towards Hacknor. The instrument panel was silent. No flashing lights. No warning siren. Nothing. This wasn't looking good.

A sudden flash out of the front window caught my eye. It was another pod veering crazily towards my general direction. A thin trail of smoke leaked from its tail section. Reaching out with my mind I saw inside it a rather bizarre alien and . . Henchman!

His ship zoomed past me, narrowly missing a head on collision. I quickly fired the rear harpoon cannon, piercing the undercarriage of his pod. A line of high tensile cable spooled out for a bit until it reached the end. When it snapped taut, my ship jerked hard after it.

Henchman flew threw the 6 buoy slalom course. I'm not sure if he was flying or his crazy alien co-pilot. Whoever it was, was terrible. Each turn his ship made sent my ship flying out in wild arcs behind him. I thought I was going to loose my lunch.

Somehow we made it through the slalom. Then Henchman pulled me around the small moon. He was making a very tight orbit and the hull of my broken down, not working pod began to get very, very hot. Sweat started running down my face.

Just when I thought I couldn't take it, Henchman completed his orbit and started down to the surface of Hacknor. But he was descending way too fast. Jettisoning the tow cable, I realized that unless I was able to get my braking rockets to fire, I was going to make a very large hole on the planet.

Of course that meant I had to find that damned ignition switch. I reached out with my telepathic powers to Henchman's ship. Turns out it was the weirdo named Brak who was flying. Looking through his mind was tremendously unpleasant. I'll spare you the horror. The important thing is that I saw the flight controls were activated by voice command.

"Start the engines!" I yelled frantically.

A deep whirring noise rumbled through the ship and then all the lights winked on.

"Brake! Brake!" I screamed.

The retro-rockets fired and I came in for a thankfully soft landing on the pad. I can only hope that my rapid descent saved me from last place.

Mission One: Part 2

Mr. Bennet bravely completes the first challenge...

"No! I don't feel like singing!"

"Aw, don't be a glummy gus," my pilot replied. "Live a little. We made it here safely. We didn't crash into a wall or anything! Let's celebrate."

"Celebrate what? I'm here, but I don't know what to do next." Outside another dropship was approaching at a very slow pace. At first, I suspected it was another contestant. But it seemed the dropship was weighed down by more than any one person could weigh. It was obviously transporting some heavy cargo.

"Fine. If you want to miss out on the fun, go ahead!" He turned back around and started drumming a rhythm on the consoles. Windshield wipers turned on, hazard lights flashed, beepy stuff beeped. And he began singing, "The arm bone's connected to the arm bone, the arm bone's connected to the arm bone, the arm bone's connected to the arm bone, the arm bone's connected to the..."

I quickly exited the dropship and looked around. There was a sign, 'Space Station Alpha'. Oh! Not taste Asian alfalfa! Space Station Alpha!

Now, I only needed to remember what I do next. Something about negotiating and lunch tubes. As a paper salesman, I'm a keen negotiator. This shouldn't be difficult.

I ran into the station, like a mad man runs into a deli, or anything really, but a deli is probably more mad run-accessible. There were several contestants, or maybe just space station staff, walking around the corridor. "Stop!" I yelled, "Hammer time!"

The people broke out into song and dance, the perfect distraction. While utter chaos ensued, I ducked into the nearest room. And as luck would have it, I found just the man I'd have to match my negotiation wits with.

"Welcome, Mr. Bennet. What can I do for you?"

"I'm here for the lunch tubes!" I said in my boldest of bold tones.

"Lunch tubes? Oh, perhaps you mean launch tubes."

"Perhaps! Where are they?"

"How about deck twenty?"

"I was hoping for something more like deck five?"

"Oh! Surely you kid!" He chuckled loudly and walked closer to me. "The best I can do is deck fifteen."

I stared pensively at him. He stared right back. Neither of us were willing to back down from the eye contact battle. I lifted my hand and stroked my chin. "Make it deck twelve and we got a deal."

"Deck twelve and a half?" He asked, getting right up in my face.

"No deal," I smugly replied.

"Blast!" He turned around and took a few steps away from me. "Fine," he said as he snapped back around to face me. "Deck twelve it is. Priceline isn't going to be happy though."

"Send them my condolences," I said. And with that, I left the room, en route for deck twelve.

The people in the corridor had moved on to Super Freak, and were strutting their stuff all over the hallway. I made my way through the madness, like my wife at a JC Penny One Day Only Sale (which they seem to have every day).

"Is this deck twelve?" I asked to a nearby custodian, or perhaps she was a witch. Either way, she had a broom.

"I don't know how old it is!" she yelled into my face. Then she hopped on her broom and drove off.

What a witch! Then, I noticed the sign on the door. It sure was nice of the station manager to label everything appropriately. 'Deck Twelve' it read.

I could see some contestants getting inside the launch tubes. I seemed to have caught up! I pushed my way through the crowd of people and headed for the tubes.

A great rumbling sound bellowed from behind me. I turned around and was immediately stampeded by a wall of a woman. The impact knocked me hard onto the floor, but I arose quickly. "Watch it, wide load!" I yelled at her. She ignored me. It was though there was a foot-long meatball sub awaiting her inside the launch pod, her attention would not waiver.

"Going back to Hacknor, are ye?" A seemingly-crazy man asked me.

"Yeah, I am." I said. I turned to continue on my way.

"In a hurry are ye?" He asked.

Gah! I turned around and said, "Yes, actually. I'm in a race," and with that I turned back around.

"Like a shortcut, would ye?"

I turned back round. Suddenly, I was dizzy, like a pregnant woman on Vicodin. "Do you know of one?"

"Like me to tell you about it, would ye?"

"Yes! Tell me!"

The man revealed the great shortcut to me. going straight to Hacknor isn't the fastest route...

I thanked the man and punched him in the face knocking him out.

After fighting through the crowd, I made it into my own launch tube and got inside the pod. "Let's see..." I said aloud. "Green is go?" I hit the green button and the pod blasted off.

I sure hope this shortcut is worth it!

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Ship of Tools

bboy07head With my time bubble safely secured (I have "The Club"!) and stowed in one of Tesseract U-Store's finest lockers (the Primo model, the one with strobing disco lights, a fog machine, unlimited shrimp cocktail, and a legion of nubile, half-naked young employees to lovingly stroke and pat your merchandise whether you're there or not) I sprinted out onto the tarmac. Late again! There was only one dropship in sight. The pilot was leaning against the hull of the craft with his hands behind his back. The sight of his uniform gave me pause, and not in a good way! My fashion designer's eye (the left one) immediately analyzed it and tallied up its good points and its bad. The good: it was primarily orange and purple -- my signature colors! The bad: everything else. The symbol on the chest looked like an atom in an iPod commercial, the top was adorned with some sort of jacked-up black sweater vest with flared shoulders, and the boots had attached pouches. And just to throw some salt in my wounded aesthetic sensibility, the pilot's hair was cut in a mushroomy bowl style, like an overgrown child actor, or one of the Ramones. And his swollen, brutish face gave me the distinct impression he'd been smacked right in the kisser with a moopsball hammer. Repeatedly.

With low, growly sigh and a shrug of my broad, muscular shoulders, I greeted the pilot. "Nice ship," I offered.

"I guess," he replied. "It kinda looks like a wienerschnitzel on one end."

"Hey, what doesn't?" I chuckled at my own joke and waited for him to laugh, but he just stared at me. I held out my hand. "Blockade Boy. Pleased to meet you!"

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't shake your hand," he said in a bored tone.

"Oh. Huh. Well, I guess we'd better head off!"

"This ship can't go anywhere just yet. It won't be long, though. Just a few minutes." And with that, he clammed up again.

Great. I glanced around the spaceport, searching for another topic of conversation. I fixed upon a man ambling down the tarmac, messily eating a burrito. His outfit was even homelier than the pilot's! It was two shades of green -- Fecal and Fluorescent -- and it was accessorized with a burnt sienna harness/shoulderpad thing, in suede, with a matching turtleneck dickey.

I jerked a thumb at the fugly unfortunate. "Get a load of that guy! Do you think he's stupid enough to dress that way on purpose or did he lose a bet?"

At this, the pilot guffawed, but said nothing further. I glanced back at the man with the burrito. Refried beans and melted cheese were smeared all over the bottom half of his face. He wiped off most of it with his sleeve. Then, spotting me, he abruptly altered his course and began to walk with an accelerated pace in my precise direction. His dopey grin told me he hadn't heard my remarks.

Within a few meters of my person, he crammed another section of burrito in his maw, belched, and smiled broadly. A gooey strand of cheese connected his right incisor and one of his rear molars. He pointed at me. "Blockade Boy, right?"

I nodded.

"Awesome. You ready to go?"

"Er... yeah... wait a minute! You're the pilot?"

"Yup! Here, hold this for me, wouldja?" He handed me the unfinished burrito. He turned to the man leaning against the dropship. "Have a nice chat, did ya, Aabur?"

"Hardly," grunted "Aabur."

"Yeah, well there ain't a lot of stimulating conversation where you're goin', nohow," the pilot smirked. He grabbed one of Aabur's arms and with his free hand worked a device on his belt. There was a hollow, clanking sound, and then the pilot jerked Aabur's body away from the hull. The pilot led Aabur into the dropship, with me right behind, and I finally saw what had kept Aabur from shaking my hand: electromagnetic handcuffs.


I watched as Aabur was strapped down into a seat. "Don't forget to buckle up yourself," the pilot said to me. "Only you don't need so many buckles! Haw-haw!" A sliver of refried bean was ejected from his mouth. It landed on my chin.

I exploded. "What is all this crap? You're supposed to be piloting me!"

The pilot's cheerfulness remained undaunted. "If I can transport a prisoner at the same time, I get extra credit! Which I kinda need right now on account of I accidentally killed the platoon mascot. But that kid only had, like, a year to live anyhow so I don't see why it was such a big deal. But you know. Politics."

I was tempted to just cold-cock the idiot and commandeer the dropship myself, but I was already behind schedule.


Other than a series of burrito farts so regular I could have set my watch by them, the trip to Space Station Alpha was uneventful. I bolted off the ship just ahead of the pilot (who planned to leave Aabur there while he grabbed some curly fries). The decks were crowded with tourists who were visiting the station to observe, offer ardent prayers to, make sticky anonymous love against the backdrop of, or pretend to be "cool" and just ignore the famous Doomsday Comet which would soon be entering the sector. I'd almost made it to a race pod when a pneumatic tube deposited the pilot directly in front of me. "You've got to help me!" he cried.

I placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder, looked him in the eye, and said, "Okay. First, green and brown should never go together in the same outfit, secondly, I'd go with a shorter haircut, maybe something a bit shaggy on top, so you can gel it up for when you go out on the town but can still wear it in a conservative style for meetings and such, and lastly, cut down on all the junk food -- you're looking a mite paunchy."

"It's not that," the pilot jabbered. "Aabur has stolen the dropship! If High Command finds out, I'm gonna be court marshalled for sure!" He popped another handful of curly fries into his mouth and munched them anxiously.

"Oh! Well, in that case, it's really not my problem." And with that I sidled around him and jumped into a race pod. As I launched into the black void, I spied the pilot in my rear view mirror. The paper tray of curly fries dropped to the floor. They were followed by the pilot himself. His body heaved in what I guessed were either despairing sobs or copious vomiting.


As I darted past the buoys, I could see the Doomsday Comet blazing past the space station. And ahead of me was the dropship. Another craft was headed on an intercept course with Aabur's pilfered vessel. Its markings identified it as belonging to space banditos -- Aabur's compatriots, no doubt. In the back of my mind, I wondered if I should have volunteered to aid the hapless Remedial Space Marine pilot. I do have a superpower, after all. But since the only thing I can do is turn into a steel wall -- and not a terribly tall or wide steel wall at that -- I decided that there wasn't really anything I could do that would have been helpful. That's why I got my degree in Fashion Design and not Saving the Universe.

Soon enough I neared the moon. I dived low, hoping to use its gravitational field for a slingshot effect and pick up some speed. I worked! The race pod zoomed over the crater-pocked surface and hurtled back into open space. A flickering light danced in the rearview, and then flared into a blinding glow. The comet had been diverted by the moon's gravity and boomeranged around it, right behind my ship! I dove into the asteroid field as the comet shot past me, just overhead. I was lucky to avoid its radioactive tail! Sadly for Aabur, however, it was making a beeline straight for him.

I struggled to concentrate on piloting the racepod through the deadly asteroid field, but in my peripheral vision I could see the comet plow over the dropship.


As I reentered Hacknor's atmosphere, I could see the remains of Aabur's craft in the distance following suit.


It was a tragedy, in a small way. It's not as though Aabur didn't have it coming. Or did he? I mean, I presume he was evil. He sure did a lot of evil muttering on the first leg of my trip. But maybe he was just crazy. I'm no expert. At least I can think of one definitely good thing to come out of all this: at least nobody will have to look at that godawful costume of his, ever again!


Fat girls can't run, let alone fly.

So in my last entry, I kind of lied about being able to fly like Frying Man! I can't fly. In fact, I can barely walk. I have this thing against exercise; it's called, I hate it. What I can do is a lot less useful. I can light up dark rooms with my bare hands. I can make lekos and gobos dance with photons when they're not plugged in. I can shoot pretty streams of colored light from my fingertips and make a boring dark room go from this:

To this:

Completely useless power unless you're in the lighting, electric, or theatre business -- which it just so happens I am.

One thing us theatre techies lack is tact. I shoved my way through the crowd to get to where I was supposed to be going. Hmm. Not so much shoving as I was moving people out of the way with my chest. It precedes me by quite a large margin. I think I smashed one poor guy against a wall on my way rampaging towards the launch tubes. Oops!

I quietly observed the launch tubes. They looked like something my grandmother must have seen on the Space Station Mir. Yeah, like I was going to fit through that. But I had to do it. It was in my mission statement. I wondered if these smaller ships were OSHA certified. I had to get in. The only thing that was keeping me going at this point was knowing that if I, Svetlana Smith, succeeded in my task, I might just have a chance with at least holding my own in a conversation with the man I secretly worship. Oh, and it would make my family proud. But mainly it would just satisfy my obsession.

I got into the smaller race pod with my grandmother's voice ringing inside my head.


Ah, those words of wisdom. I wonder if there were laws against driving these things while intoxicated. Probably. And what the hell were all of these buttons for? I can hardly drive a car more modern than my precious white baby. I tried to remember what grandma had told me about flying spaceships. Old people tell the silliest stories!

By the grace of God, I managed to fit into the race pod, and started pushing buttons and pulling levers. The ship lurched forward into space and stalled. Great, I thought, it's like learning how to drive a stick shift all over again. I started the ship up again, and tried to remember my mission objective. Six buoys, around the moon, through the asteroid belt, and back. Well, I mused, it could be worse. I could have had this guy as my pilot.

Once I got the hang of it, the ship was running pretty smoothly. At least this one wasn't spewing smoke out its back end. Getting around the buoys, fine. It was like driver's ed, only this time I wasn't half drunk while trying to parallel park and drive through all the cones. Bob (my ship -- hey, it needed a name, and there's nothing wrong with Bob) and I were doing quite well. We were just out in space, chillin' and having a good time, watching the stars go by, when I felt something squirming around behind me. A hand appeared to my left and started flailing around. Another hand appeared a moment later. Whoever I was sitting on pulled themselves out from under my weight and started coughing and gasping for air.

"Oh, hello! I didn't see you down there." I said cheerily to the green-haired woman, how recovering in the chair next to me. "Oh, you're the one Kirrock was talking about!"

"Kirrock? He's alive?"

"Yes. And he wanted me to tell you that your entire past is a lie."

"He's just saying that to get back at me for making fun of him and calling him a clone. Name's Kayruah. You ran into me in the hallway. I was on my way to go join the Emperor on the Death Star."

"Do you know how to fly one of these things?"

"I can try. I'm better at flying Y-wings."

At least I'd already gotten us through the buoys.

"I snagged some Corellian whiskey on my way here," the green-haired woman pulled produced a bottle filled with amber-colored liquid from under her seat. "May as well get drinking. Flying through asteroid fields makes me worry. Koma went flying through an asteroid field once -- thankfully, she was wearing her short bus helmet, but there was still blood coming out of it by the time we got her to the infirmary."

"Who's Koma?"

"Old friend. Tall, busty, dark hair. Kind of always in a bad mood. Can't spell the work 'joke' to save her life. You'd know her if you saw her." Kayruah shot the race pod around the moon and into the neighboring asteroid belt, taking a large swig of the whiskey. "Come to think of it, I might have been flying that craft. Blood never did trust Koma to fly the damn things. Errr...does this thing have shields?"

I took the controls from her as she continued to drown her sorrows in whiskey.

"...n' then, Kirrock, he say t' me, 'whuz thuh Jedi have tha I dun't'? N' I tell him, I tell him--"

Whatever she told him was drowned out by the sound of an asteroid clipping the rear end of the small pod. Thankfully it was enough of a hit to knock us clear out of the entire belt.

"...I tell him, 'thuh Jedis, they don't have Anakin.' Ah ha ha. Anakin. Anakiiiiiin. He's such a whiner. I turned him down fer a date once -- cuz I really wasn' too keen on the 'Obi-Wan is holdin' me baaack' thing, ya know? Frellin' whiner. You know what he needs?" Kayruah asked me, drunkenly flailing her arms to prove a point as I carefully flew the craft back to the landing pad. "He needs a good kick in the teeth. Man if 'e were 'ere right about now, I'd innerduce him to my two friends." She held up two wavering fists, and the bottle of Corellian whiskey dropped to the floor of the craft.

The ship came skidding to a halt on the landing pad since I couldn't find the brakes. Do these things even have brakes?

I started punching buttons again until I found the button that opened the hatch. Kayruah stumbled out of the ship first, managing to say something about, "takin' a l'il nap" under the fuselage. I rolled my way out of the ship and stood back on (mostly) solid ground. Well, that was one challenge down. Now I was really in the mood for some Twinkies.

Fat Girls Don't Run

Fat girls don't run. Seriously, we just don't. Jabba the Hutt didn't run; why should I have to do it? And why don't I have any slaves like him? What I wouldn't give to have a nice-looking Indian man wearing nothing but a loincloth feed me twinkies, honestly. Is that really too much to ask?

Everyone else started running for their ships. Well, I'm too good for that. Not to mention that if I ran towards anything smaller than me, the gravitational force I exhibit would most likely change the orbit of whatever planet we were closest to -- and I have to think about the planets, you know? So I more or less very quickly waddled my way over to one of the plane-looking things, leaving small cracks in the pavement in the wake of my footsteps. I swear I heard the ship-thingy I chose to get on say, "Oh GOD, noooo!" before I stepped over its threshold.

"Not on my baby!"

"What?" I asked, still not seeing the body to whom the voice belonged.

"You! Off my ship!" A very petite-looking young woman with gray skin started shooing me off what I presumed was her ship. "Go on! Git!"

"But I just got here." I patted her on the head. "Oh, you're so tiny! I could just eat you alive, you're so cute!"

I think I saw steam coming out of her ears as she stalked off towards the front of the ship. I followed her once I heard the engines starting up.

"--three years building this thing, Kirrock, and now I'm going to have to recalibrate everything -- oh, hello," the gray pixie smiled blandly at me. "Daddy, this is -- I'm terribly sorry. I didn't get your name."


"Fatty it is, then. You might want to strap in. It's the first time flying this ship since the accident." Her gray face turned a darker shade of gray. I guess she was blushing -- or maybe just nauseated.

"Accident?" I asked, not liking the sound of it at all.

"Nice to meet you, Svetlana," said the man who was her father. I swear there was no family resemblence. He stood up...and up...and up...and, damn, where do they make people so tall? The very tall, ominous-looking man reached out to shake my hand. "My name is Kirrock. This charming young lady is Ragabash. Svetlana -- I have important news to share with you before we leave port."

"What is it?" I was struggling to strap myself into the chair. God, what was this thing that they didn't have seatbelts for a full-figured woman? Southwest Airlines? I decided to give up on the straps. If we got into an accident, well, I've heard that body fat is like a helmet for your internal organs. And where were the damn in-flight peanuts? I love those little packages.

"Your entire past has been a lie. Your parents are not who you think they are. You are actually a descendant of the great Sith Lord Exar Kun."

"I'm--what?" This was news to me. "Are you in the right game, Kirrock?"

He produced a large book with the words "GM BIBLE" emblazoned on the front. "Let's see...cloned Maul, ion cannons on platforms, Jedi apprentice with constantly changing ages..." His face turned bright red as he got to a particular page. "...I think Mozyr will want those pictures back....though they would fetch a pretty credit...oh, here it is! 'Your entire past has been a lie.' Wait, what was your name again?"


" don't have green hair. ...Oh! I'm sorry! I was supposed to tell you your past was a lie if your name was Ka-- then again, the name's not important. She dumped me for an underage Jedi. I must have misheard you. Are you sure you don't have a green hair gene?" He hid his GM Bible away and sat down at the controls.

"Positive. So what was this accident?" I asked of the little gray person.

"I don't want to talk about it. It hurts my ship when I discuss it." She waved her hand at me dismissively.

Kirrock started the engines. They shuddered to life and the entire ship started shaking.

"Is that normal?" I asked, grabbing my seat.

Ragabash was grabbing the console in front of her and stroking it adoringly. "It's okay, baby, shhh." She patted it with her hand. "Yes, it's completely normal. Repulsorlifts are supposed to sound that way when they're under a great deal of stress." She returned to cooing over the ship.

The ship suddenly jerked forward.

"No, daddy, the other lever is the accelerator. I rewired everything and added in a few new systems since the ship told me it was tired of being made fun of by all the other ships." The ship groaned as it lumbered forward into space. "There, there, baby, it's okay. We're not going to let some Jedi pull a nuclear device out of his rear end and hurt you again like that last time on Coruscant." Ragabash looked at me quite gravely. "It was a tragic experience. We were flying along in our ship, miding our own business, when suddenly our," she coughed, "furry business associate decided to start sticking her hands where they didn't--"

"That's enough, Ragabash. You don't want to scare the poor girl."

"I'm just letting her know what she's in for."

And so we flew for as long as the little taxi-ship would allow. It was hard for the ship to reach top speed without having the engines burn out every ten minutes, so we puttered along at a nice, relaxing pace of about ten miles per hour. Thankfully, the space station wasn't that far away.

By the time we reached the station, appropriately named Space Station Alpha, I had a sinking feeling in my gut. The feeling that something incredibly bad was going to happen. I think I was just hungry and craving those Little Debbie cupcake things with the white filling inside. You know, the chocolate ones with the white-icing on top? Yeah, those. Oh, how I love them...

I was jolted out of my reverie when our ship gracelessly puttered in at last, and landed inside the station with a clunk and a clatter. I think I heard parts falling off of it. There was lots of smoke. The bay doors opened and I gathered my belongings and left the ship. As soon as my feet left contact with the small taxi-vessel, it rocketed up towards the ceiling -- I guess I was the only thing holding it down.

I heard a muffled, "Dammit! I just got finished fixing that..." from the inside of the smoking ship as its repulsorlifts kicked back into gear. It took off a few moments later, limping its way out of the space station with a large plume of smoke trailing behind it. I almost felt sad for the little taxi dropship. It was such an adorable little space-boat thing!

But I was here, now! Where I was meant to be, where I could truly prove to everyone that I could fly! Everyone else seemed to be in a great hurry to get somewhere, so I did my best to try and look busy -- and then realized I'd left my directions on board with the two marines. Somehow, I didn't think they'd be back.

Well, this was certainly shaping up to be interesting! It was time to put those wonderful people skills to work, begging for Twinkies.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Mission One: Part 1

Mr. Bennet boldly takes on the first of many challenges to come....

"Here? Don't we have restrooms?" I asked as Jon was giving us the details of the first challenge.

"Drop ships!"

"Oh, nevermind then." I listened attentively. Remedy pilots, taste Asian alfalfa, lunch tubes, deck elves, race odds, six boys....sounded like standard first challenge obstacles.

I heard enough. I took off running. If I was going to remedy the pilot, I'd need to get to him before his symptoms progressed too far.

I jumped aboard the nearest dropship. "I'm Mr. Bennet. I'm here to remedy you!" Suddenly, the craft jolted into the air. I was knocked to the floor. The momentum kept me pinned, but I wasn't concerned for my well-being. I only cared about helping the pilot. Because if I didn't help him, I'd fail, and then The Company would revoke my pension.

Eventually, the momentum went away and I was able to get to my feet. I ran into the cockpit. "What's your illness?"

"I'm special, ma'am."

"You are?"

"Yes, ma'am. Very much so."

"I'm not a woman."

"I know. They haven't taught us how to refer to males yet."

It was clear this man was a moron. Why? Out of all the pilots, all the possible illnesses, I had to get a mentally-challenged one. That can't be remedied! I would certainly fail this challenge.

And then we landed. "Mission accomplished!" my pilot said to me.

"Hey, aren't you..."


"What are you doing here?"

"Being in the Hacknor Colonial Marines keeps me out of the war."

"So, is this it? I finished the challenge?"


"So, what are they doing?" I pointed out the window. Other contestants were arriving and running inside a space station.

"Cuttin' and runnin'."

challenge 1

I run up to the ship. And of course the one assigned to me has smoke comin' out of it. I thought it was the engine , but no the smoke was coming from the pilot.

" Hey man! Want a hit?" He asks putting something in my face.

" um no....I answer. " Wait your flying on drugs?"

" Not drugs ,man!"

" Oh think goodness ." I Sigh.

" It's just incense to clean out the smell of space vodka!"

Good thing I'm invulnerable I think to myself. I get in despite every survival instinct I have telling me not to. He starts it up and we go ....sideways.

After nearly killing half of the bystanders, he slams into the Old Gladiator's Home. An old guy is hanging on the wind shield. "

" Hey man get him unstuck from there!" I demand. He turns on the windshield wipers. smacking the poor guy in the face.

" I'm gonna get you inta the arm lock ya whipper snapper!" The gladiator shouts.

The marine splashes the ship into the nearby ocean. The old guy was dislodged, and cursing us from the middle of the sea.

" Man ya didn't have to nearly kill him! " I shout.

" You wanted him off didn't You? Now we go down to the space station. "

" Up! Up! Opposite of down!" After a grueling few minutes He actually goes into space, going away from the station.

" Hey! Our goal's that way!" I kick his seat.

He chugs some vodka. " I know where I'm goin!"

I use the one power I have that Superman doesn't, Tactile Telekinesis and turn the ship around. I should have kept control of the the craft, because he crashes into the station's galley.

I jump out of the ship. Grab some aliens floating into space, then weld the hull with Heat vision. Some alien starts shouting at me. I point at my pilot. " Issue all complaints to that drunk!"

I use some X-ray vision, and find the space pods. The one that says "Kon-El. " Has a key turn ignition. Great Krypton! Why do I get the cheap one? I turn the key, and get what sounds like a car dying. Oh forget this!

I kick out the floor ,and rip out the engine, and fly it out under my own power. The slalom course, and the buoys were easy. Around the moon of Hacknor though I hear "wocka wocka wocka!"

Wait, a second am I supposed to be hearing things in space? And am I about to be attacked by Fozzy Bear? No It's worse but not by much.

After about fifteen minutes of the chase, I finally lose him in the Asteroid field when the thing busied itself eating chunks of rock. On reentry I realize I tore out the shields.

Ow! This burns. I finally crash on the finish line. I brush off the slag that used to be my escape pod, Synth Lin comments " I can see your happy to see me."

" Huh?"

She points down. Oh great. Reentry burned off my clothes, Why do I have to be the only one wearing an "S" Shield without semi invulnerable Kryptonian clothes? If any body needs me I'm gonna be hiding in my room in shame.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

My Fellow Gladiators-Challenge 1

Greetings to My Fellow Gladiators,

For those of you who may not know me, my name is Nathan Petrelli. I am incredibly good-looking, and I am running for congress in NYC. My campaign manager signed me up for these games a few days ago. She really didn’t have time to explain the rules to me because I have been tied up in Vegas on important business. I only know I am here to….Hey…Where did everyone go? Hello? Oh. I have a message from Jon Intergalactic Gladiator…Ohhh… That’s where everyone went.

I took off at a run, not knowing where I was going. I saw a large hanger and headed for it. “Hello…Hello…Is anyone here? Oh, I see someone. Excuse me…Sir..Do you know where the landing pad is located? I’m looking for a dropship??? Do you know what that is?"

“You’re not from around here are you? No matter…Landing pad is behind this storage bay. You can take a short cut through the bay. When you get to the landing pad, you will see the dropships. You’ll know them when you see them.”

I gave the strange man my thanks; and I was on my way. As I exited through the back of the hangar, I saw the landing pad. It was behind the hangar alright. It was two miles behind it. I could see the planes?? from where I stood. One of the planes flew away just as I cleared the door. It sped away faster than anything I have ever witnessed. The government must have spent a pretty penny on them. Since I couldn’t tell how many planes remained on the tarmac, I took a risk and allowed myself to lift off the ground. With no one around to witness my solo flight, I zipped across the landing pad and landed at the foot of the craft.

I rushed aboard with my jacket, briefcase, and the rest of my luggage. I called out to the pilot and told him to get the show on the road. I plopped down behind the pilot's seat and asked him if Planet Hacknow was anything like Planet Hollywood. Instead of answering me, he just made a few growling noises. That didn’t hurt my feelings, not everyone is talkative. Seconds after I strapped in, we lifted vertically off the tarmac. We shot into the air so quickly, I thought I would lose my lunch. Once my stomach settled, I looked out the window and noticed the Earth becoming a small dot in the distance. I yelled to the pilot, “I don’t care if you aren’t the talkative type. I need to know what is going on here. I know the challenge stated you were taking me to Space Station Alpha, but I thought it was a metaphor. This can’t be happening. The world doesn’t work like this!!!

The pilot shouted—no he growled—from the front, “We aren’t playing by the rules of your world anymore, Congressman Wannabe…”

Well, I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to say that to me, so I stood up and staggered toward the cockpit. I put my hand on the pilot’s shoulder; and when he turned around, I almost peed myself. My pilot looked like Bigfoot!!! Instead of the smart@#s reply that I was planning for him, I decided to return to my seat and keep my mouth shut until we docked at the space station. I pulled out my cell, but it was getting no reception, so I made a mental note to fire my campaign manager upon my return. Imagine, signing me up for Gladiator games with all sorts of different creatures without telling me about it, and during the final days of the election at that….

Seconds later, we landed at the space station, Bigfoot growled me toward the door. I grabbed my luggage again and went in search of the pod. Getting to deck twelve wasn’t a problem, I did notice a few people struggling with the pods. Apparently some of the pods didn’t have ramp entrances. This was not a problem for me. My flying abilities have come in handy so far, and I didn’t have a problem using them now. I flew the necessary distance to my pod and threw in my bags. I settled into the pilot’s chair. My experience in the gulf war served me well in this challenge…Well, my experience and the picture descriptions on the panel.

It didn’t take long for me to launch back into space. I pulled up the slalom course on the monitor and prepared to push the pod as fast as she could go. I passed by all six buoys and did a Tokyo Drift around the moon. It was smooth as silk. However, when I hit the asteroid field doing top speed…Well, let’s just say, I’m glad I had a clean pair of Joe Boxers in my luggage. Even now, I can’t tell you how I made it through that asteroid field. I can only remember screaming like my brother, Peter, at a Menudo concert. (Don’t repeat that last part.) Anyway, I made it back to the landing pad in one piece. I don’t even know if I came in last place or not.

Just as I poked my head out of the pod to enquire about what I should do next, my cell phone beeped. I had 50 messages. All of them were from my Mother. The strange mechanic pulled up in a cart and offered to take me to the other contestants for celebratory drinks, but I ceased to hear what he was saying. All I could hear was the the distress in Mother’s voice.

The next thing I know, the mechanic is shaking my shoulder and asking me, “Are you alright, Mr. Petrelli? You are as pale as a ghost.” I didn’t respond to him. I just grabbed my bags for the last time. I told him I had to get back to NY. I darted into the sky quicker than any dropship could take me and broke the sound barrier in my attempt to get home to Peter…
Well, what happened next belongs in a blog at; but for now, just realize that I am not out of the games…Well unless I’m voted off or something, but that shouldn’t happen. I am a natural leader and incredibly good-looking. Why would anyone want to get rid of me?