Date: Thu, 21 Mar 1996 03:10:14 -0600 From: The Other Immortal Subject: "Space: The Final Buffet" 1/4 "Space: The Final Buffet" Susan Schaefer copyright 1996 S. Schaefer part one of four Insert usual disclaimers here Note: For clarity's sake, Verdun is the name of a small town in southwest Oklahoma. If you are caught going 1 mile over the speed limit there, they will fine the pants (and whatever else they can get) off of you. This is, in fact, the town's primary source of income, and business is booming. Second note: Yes, I am a Cousin. I'm proud of the fact that I am a Cousin. However, my subconscious is very strange. I cannot be held accountable for any non-Cousinly material. Thank you. Space, the Final Buffet... These are the voyages of the V.D. _Nightcrawler_. The mission: to discover strange new bloodtypes, to seek out longer nights and more whammyable civilizations, to boldly go where no vampyre has gone before! ********************************************************************* The relative void of space was quiet. Too quiet (even considering that conventional physics allows no sound in a vacuum). A single, tiny ship hung crippled. All its power lay in life support and the emergency beacon which called in the dark. Out of 300, only 23 members of the crew survived. The new ship rule: _*NO*_ Squeezy Cheese in Engineering. On the bridge, Admiral Turbotu silently mourned. Its crew was doomed. The sexless creature waved a tentacle in an ancient curse against orange plastic byproducts. A ball of gook, resembling pneumoniac mucous, oozed down one of the spheres floating above it. Admiral Turbotu was crying. Suddenly, the emergency beacon's radar receiver buzzed. Saved! Oh, Murley, they would live! The alien flicked on a battery-powered viewer, hope overpowering its senses. That hope crashed as Admiral Turbotu recognized the hulking black ship outside. I DON'T BRAKE was clearly visible on the hull. Squeezy Cheese was a better fate... The ship was the Vampyric Destroyer _Nightcrawler_. The admiral let a soft sob, and tried to wait. General LaCroix sat back, content after his feast of Verdun. For androgynous beings the size of a Danielle Steel paperback, they were delicious. The drained corpses had already been jettisonned. He rested a moment, thought of something. The imposing man, clad in black and the black-and-white insignia of his empire, pressed a button on his chair. "Captain Knight!" A screen opposite him crackled to life. His Chief of Protocol appeared, sleepy-eyed, and clutching a battered teddy bear. "(yawn) Yes, Lord Uncle?" "Nicholas," LaCroix clasped his hands under his chin, "would you check with Cousin Blevins as to the supply of Squeezy Cheese currently on board?" "Uh, sir," the blond man looked puzzled, "shouldn't you ask her? I mean, she's head of Wicked, Cruel Weapons You Wouldn't Wish On Your Worst Enemy. I-" "Knight, what is your department?" "Protocol, sir." "Yes. And this is PROTOCOL." Nick almost dropped his teddy at that. "We're going to be making a little trip to the Verdun homeworld. We're giving them a little surprise." "Uh, yes, sir." "Good, good." LaCroix spun his chair around in happy, evil circles. "Now, get to it!" Captain KNight nodded, yawned, started to sign out. "One more thing, Captain." "Yes?" _Don't let it be about the slippers again, don't let it be about the slippers again..._ "Get rid of those stupid bunny slippers!" General LaCroix snapped off to viewer to Nicholas' now-wide-awake face. He loved being evil. Outside, another terror was lurking. (No, not Maddog and Rastro! Geez, this ain't FKFIC-L, ya know.) This terror, while not even close to the _Nightcrawler_ in size, rivaled, nay, surpassed it in nastiness. It cruised happily from planet to planet, an empire in a single, loathsome vessel. There were no survivors. But now it's time for a commercial! **(happy little jingle plays; female humanoid appears) If you're like me, you hate the headaches caused by annoyingly sweet small children. That's why _Angry Parents Monthly_ is proud to introduce our special new offer! If you subscribe now, not only will you receive twelve months of the best in child control, you'll get this handy straitjacket and rubber ball gag FREE. Yes, enjoy hours of relaxation by having the kids "tied up". Better tahn sending them to grandma's, more legal than cyanide! Only $26.95, plus shipping and handling, only through this amazing special offer. (disclaimer: only available in LaCroixan Empire. Good while supplies last.) (jingle repeats; humaniod smiles, holding up copy of magazine)** Cousin "Susan" Phoenix, The Cousin Who Ate All The Sushi In Japan (She Wishes) phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein On the bridge of the V.D. _Nightcrawler_, LaCroix sat talking to (at) Captain Knight and Chief Medical Officer Lambert. Knight, in addition to standard black uniform, wore a jade-hilt katana and pink bunny slippers. Lambert was covered in cat hair. The two panted heavily, thanks to their quite literal orders to get there _*NOW*_. "Well," sneered LaCroix 12 seconds after he'd given the order, "it's about time. I expect you to go through 30 decks faster than THAT. But," he gave them *The Look* (patent pending, Wicked Cousin Tippi), "down to business. Knight." "Yes, Lord Uncle?" Salute. "I assume you've spoken with Wicked Cousin Blevins about the Squeezy Cheese." "Yes, sir." "Good. What is our supply?" "500,000 cubic kilometers, sir." "Hmmmmm..." the general mused, "less than expected, but it shall do. Lambert?" "Sir." He started to protest, stopped. No use in trying to push it. Lambert had already gotten an employment offer from the American Gothic Federation, and he didn't want to lose the best coroner in the quadrant to something which probably wouldn't last one good war. "What did you find in your tests on the Verdun survivors?" The three he hadn't eaten. "They're small, bloblike, neuter beings with a fierce need to determine galactic speed limits. Toxic substances include denim and caffeine. Squeezy Cheese acts as a highly effective narcotic, and, according to Cousin Scott in Engineering, is highly corrosive to the materials in their ships." "Excellent." LaCroix grinned, a psychotic glint in his eye. Within moments, however, this changed to pure fury. He slammed a button, "SECURITY!" In exactly 1.68 seconds two officers, Cousins Avon and Rimmer, were at his attention. "Yes, Lord Uncle, sir?" they shouted together. "Take Captain Knight to the brig immediately. Keep him there until he gives up those damned slippers." "Yessir." "Hey, this is unjustified! This is cruel! You're just doing this 'cause I wouldn't let you have my shoes! I'll--" A lift door slammed, cutting the shrieking offcer off. "You know, Lambert, I liked him much more before he tried to change his name to MacLeod." The coroner nodded in wild agreement. "And, Lambert?" "Sir?" "You might want to stop letting Communications Officer Sidney sleep in your closet." He picked a bit of fur off her sleeve. Suddenly, an alarm buzzed madly. "Eh? Sidney, what's going on?" "Meow, mewl mer, purrr rrowl hiss row." The elctronic translator Sidney wore came up with, "Lord Uncle, we are being approached." "Specific?" Damn, that cat could be so vague. "Rrrwl hraaaack (hairball)." Unknown, sir. "Put in on viewer." A small cube blipped to life in front of the mammoth ship. "Magnify>" As it came into a larger focus, all the bridge let out a gasp of horror. "Oh, god, we're doomed," whispered Lambert. "It's... it's... The Gap." Cousin "Susan" Phoenix, The Cousin Who Ate All The Sushi In Japan (She Wishes) phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein "Trendy," muttered Lord Uncle. "Perky. Cousin Lore, check the database for, 'Gap, Trendy, and Perky'." "Better add saccharine and caffeine, sir." Lambert had recognized the molecular structures painted onto the building. In a moment the deranged 'droid had his answer. "Sir, it's bad." "How bad?" "Really, really, really, really, really, really, re--" "You sound like your brother! Get on with it!" "Sir, it's the Tracy." General Information: Tracy, the. Long, long ago, on a small blue planet some might say was cute and others considered annoying, a happy little race flourished. They sang (off key) and danced (with left feet) through the flowery hills of their native world. They were wide awake and bushy tailed at six in the morning. The bunnies were their friends, and the butterflies, and the cute little unnamed things with big, soft blue eyes. All was peaceful and perky. Then, on a day now revered by them and hated by everyone else, one of their race, a being named Tracy, realized something: outside of their world, not everything was perky. She was named their queen, and they set out to perfect the universe. Harnessing the power of the Cutiverse (the alternate dimension from which they first came) they set out in the only ship they had in order to make things perfect. Naturally, the galactic suicide rate quintupled overnight. Now, armed with the trendiest of their trendy weapons, they search for races in need of cuteness. They never take prisoners or leave survivors, for as soon as they announce their presence every being they encounter dies of fright. That is, until they met the _Nightcrawler_. Cousin Lore finished reading the results. With that, he opened his chest panel and ripped out a random handful of wires. "Goodbye, cruel w-w-w-w-world." "Great," muttered LaCroix. "He could've at least done something original." Why did every android he knew have to pull a Max Headroom? "SOmeone get him out of here. Maybe he'll be good for spare parts." "Mrrrrrwl, hraaaaaackck (ptooey, splat!)." "Yes, well, open communication channels then. Might as well get a look at them before we blow them up." A face appeared on the screen. It was blond. It was happy. It wore perfect makeup and a trendy dress. "Hi, there," it spoke. "Would you be my friend?" "AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHUT IT OFF! SHUT IT OFF!!! MY EYES! MY EYES!" LaCroix cowered on the floor, hands covering his face, whimpering in pain. He quickly rolled into a fetal position. "Tell me when it's gone." "It's gone, sir," Lambert assured him. Secrectly she wished Sidney hadn't fainted onto the close communications button and shut the thing off; it would be a great bar story if the general'd looked up and seen that hideous thing again. LaCroix gingerly uncovered one eye, then the other. He glanced around. "Ah, yes," crawling back into his chair, "not a pleasant race, are they?" He straightened his uniform, tried to recollect some dignity. "Ahem." "Sir, I think you need a rest." "Ah, yes, Lambert. Quite right. It's been a long day. You have command." He walked gracefully to the lift. Once inside, his screams could be heard throughout the ship. Lambert took her place in the command chair. This could be fun. Two days later, the Gap still hung outside. This was quite amazing as temporary commander Lambert had decided to do some Star Wars-style maneuvers just for kicks. No, not Imperial Cruiser stuff. X-Wing. The kind which should technically tear a ship to trillions of tiny bits, flinging the crew into the deep, cold void of space to choke and freeze and boil away in the cruel vacuum of eternity-- Oh, come now. It's not THAT graphic. Stop turning that hideous shade of green. Ummm... where was I? Gap, X-Wing, horrible vacuum of space. Ah. Okay. The tiny ship had repeatedly hailed the larger one, getting no response. At one point they invited the crew over for capuccino, but even this was ignored. LaCroix was finally summoned back to the bridge. He arrived carrying a sleep mask (no sense in risking it) and wearing a pair of pink bunny slippers (Knight had willingly relinquished them after six hours of Disney movies). Noting some new stains on the rug and a greenish crew he took his seat. He wondered why Lambert was wearing a shirt saying EVEL KNIEVEL. "What is the current status?" "Well, sir," mumbled a Junior Cousin behind him, "we've been repeatedly hailed--" "Say it like you mean it, cousin." The teenager pulled out a bullhorn. "WE'VE BEEN REPEATEDLY HAILED BY THEM OVER THE PAST TWO DAYS. THEY INVITED US OVER FOR CAPPUCCINO." "Thank you." LaCroix felt his hair, which was standing up straighter than normal now. His eyes were huge. _Isn't that cute,_ Lambert thought of her commander's new look. She snickered. "What was that?" "Nothing, sir. Um, would you like an aspirin?" "Yes, Lambert," he muttered. "Some B+ and a teddy bear would also be nice." He slapped a hand over his mouth in shock. "You didn't hear that last request." "No, sir." _You don't want the B+, right? Heheheheheh._ She went off to fetch a pain killer and Bobo the Teddy Bear for LaCroix. He in turn was feeling quite nasty now. "Cousin Redshirt, fire at the Gap." "Yes, sir!" The only crew member in red (and, incidentaly, a bull's eye), smashed his fist into a small button marked USE ONLY IN EXTREME OVERKILL. An array of missles, each the size of a small city, zoomed from the _Nightcrawler_. LaCroix sat back, waiting to enjoy the sight of the end of the Tracy. It didn't happen. Just before the missiles reached their target, they changed. Quickly they morphed into large fluffy bunnies in pink tuutuus and began to dance. One of them looked at the ship, batted its big, cute, cartoonish blue eyes and blew it a kiss. LaCroix went paler than normal. "My god," he moaned, "what have I done?" he stared in horror as the bunnies turned into a big heart with the words I LOVE YOU in the middle. They disintegrated in a burst of pure cute. Lambert returned in time to see most of it. She held a white pill, some red liquid, and a battered teddy. LaCroix grabbed Bobo and began sucking his thumb. Right now, he didn't care who saw. Cousin "Susan" Phoenix, The Cousin Who Ate All The Sushi In Japan (She Wishes) phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein By itself, the screen blipped to life. The same blond thing was there. "Hi! I'm Queen tracy, and I wanna be your friend--" She stopped. here eyes went big and mushy. "Ooooohhhhh. How CUTE!" She squealed like a schoolgirl. "You've got a teddy bear. And bunny slippers! Just like mine! Hey, let's be pals! We can stay up past bedtime, and do each others hair, and gossip, and play with makeup. I've got some base that would be absolutely PERFECT on you! Let me go get it!" She ran off. "Cousin Lister, set speed to maximum, and GET US OUT OF HERE!!!!!" "Uhhhh.. any specific heading sir?" "AWAY FROM THEM!" The _Nightcrawler_ tore off, heading away from the Gap. "HEE-hhee, HEE-hee..." LaCroix was still hyperventilating. When he finally had control of himself, he mumbled, "Lambert?" "Yes?" "If you ever see me wearing makeup and enjoying it, stake me immediately." "Yes, sir." Gladly. Visions of the Lambertian Empire swam through her head. "Uh, sir?" It was Lister. "Oh, no, WHAT?" "Um, Lord Uncle, sir, they... they appear to be following us." Sure enough the rear sensors had picked up a small cube, rapidly gaining. "They're hailing us." "No, not again," LaCroix muttered to Bobo. "Put them on speaker, and get me a stake." "HEY! WHERE'RE YA GOING?!? WE WERE GONNA TELL GHOST STORIES AND MAKE S'MORES. HEY, C'MON, PLEASE! PRETTY PLEASE WITH SUGAR AND ICE CREAM ON TOP? DON'T'CHA LIKE ME? I LIKE YOU. OH, WAIT, YOU'RE JUST PLAYING, AREN'T YOU. HEE-HEE! THIS IS FUN!" A cry of something like "YEEEEEEEE-HAW!" blew out the audio communications center. Lambert handed Lord Uncle a large, raw T-bone. "Excuse me? I asked for a stake, not a STEAK." She started to leave. "Gimme that." LaCroix grabbed the meat, began sucking it dry. "Get me a stake anyway." It was over. After hours of trying to run away from the perky menace, the _Nightcrawler_'s engines finally made a strange noise and died. A nebula slowed their advance and the Tracy stopped them in a tractor beam. LaCroix was again curled into a fetal position, clutching Bobo in one hand and a large wooden stake in the other. Oh, god, 5,000 years of great, sadistic unlife only to be stopped by THIS? It was enough to make a grown vampyre cry. Lambert had taken control of the ship about the time Lord Uncle had started shrieking something about his empire for a can of black spray paint. The can lay next to him, cap off. The viewer had been painted a patchy black. Lambert was currently talking to Queen Tracy (who'd come aboard), trying to figure out if LaCroix would look better in pink or powder blue, and how to make the perfect banana daiquiri. Even Knight had been swayed to the Cute Side of the Farce. Thus, our story ends. Keep watching for the future adventures of the V.D. _Nightcrawler_, now renamed _The Satellite o' Love_. Of, yeah. Cousin Blevins got away and founded the Great Wicked Union, based somewhere in Andromeda. She's happy. THE END? Cousin "Susan" Phoenix, The Cousin Who Ate All The Sushi In Japan (She Wishes) phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein