Rude Mechanicals in Space.
|
To read the story from the beginning click here |
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||
![]() |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
The Battle Oh what a montrous creature I've been, ignoring my slaves for so long, giving you no snippets, no insights, no moments from my extrodinary life to make yours just that bit more bearable. How did you survive? Maybe you didn't. But I have good reason for not contacting you, for we have been in battle with the Big A and a radio silence had to be maintained. The battle we fought was hard and treacherous, there were loses on both sides (mainly Smudge's effects peddle). Hiddeous noises shrieked throughout the darkness, the Cos Tone Bender failed at a crucial stage (but then we're very used to that), a couragous string was plucked forth from it's resting place only to be torn, torn in two, by relentless nonrepenting anger. We coped, we battled on, with dry tongue and dirty fingernails we got
through, our ships engineer Matt ensured the smooth running of our space
ship and finally we made it though the night - Ok that's enough of that, I must leave you now to continue my journey through the space time continum. Laying in a course for 2004 Make it so.
Teeth It was my wisdom teeth. But lucky for me they were rotting. A very nice man somewhere deep down in the Big A's stomach, wrenches them out for me with a crowbar (what a gorgeously brutal individual.) My wisdom teeth are, being as I am a superhero and all, absolutely bloody huge, enormous, so big that you'd have to get one of those extra big trolleys from Tescos to push them round in, which might put the other shoppers off a bit. Anyway, the very nice man drops my teeth onto the floor of the Big A's stomach. The teeth then start gnawing away at his stomach lining, oooh...painful. This causes a frightful commotion as the Big A begins to heave, and wretch and generally vomit all over the place. I and by wisdom teeth are cast out of his mouth at a hundred miles an hour and land safely back in theRUDEMAN, right next to Smudge who is eating baked beans. This dramatic escape happened yesterday, and boy does my mouth hurt now. My cheek has swollen to the size of a beach ball and I look immensely ugly....perhaps even uglier than Uglyboy! No, surely thats not possible 30th October 2002 The Storm On Saturday we educated a small mooring planet just off of that rabid solar system known as Grafton. To those innocent boating people I revealed my latest creation; a master piece sculpted from bile, blood, saliva and dishwashers, the beautiful, the grotesque.... The Miraculous Mechanical Man, hurah! But he misbehaved so I sent him back to Oxford. As we spread the word a huge storm was brewing in the outer darkness. It pushed past planets, it punched out black holes, it screamed into the blackness and scolded the souls of the gods. It was a bad storm and it landed at last in my intergalactic letterbox as a thin, cheap piece of yellow paper. The timid quarter of my heart makes it's apologies and hides behind my left macho lung as I watch the yellow paper beaming up molecule by molecule. He was calling me. The yellow paper activates the chip in my head and there is nothing I can do, like a rag doll I am grasped from within and dragged towards the Big A. Leaving our space ship, 'THE RUDE', with the rest of the crew still debating the disposal of Smudges blondes, I take a small shuttle craft and fly slowly towards Big A land. When I arrive I am swallowed hastily by one of his many automatic mouths (the Big A is rather lazy and he eats so much it would take forever for him to manually open and close his mouths). In fact I am so rapidly swallowed that I think he has mistaken me for his regular meat. This is exceedingly lucky for this means he is not conscious of me, the Great Miss Roberts, sliding through his oesophagus. I have escaped his guts before but it is exceedingly difficult. As I wait in one of his many stomachs I start to sense a plan hatching. Or is that just my wisdom teeth? Beware of the colour yellow.
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
7th September The Blonde Problem Last night I heard a scratching from the wardrobe, it woke me up, thinking
that it might be a monster of grotesque proportions I approached with
care. 'How many Blondes does it take to change a light bulb... five. One to
hold the light bulb, and four to turn the chair, ha ha ha!'".
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Big A explained Many of you, my loyal personages, have been asking "who is the Big A?". I am reluctant to tell you anymore about him than is necessary, for knowledge breeds thoughts and thoughts are dangerous. The Big A shall use them to conquer you from within. But what I can tell you is this: His guts are vast and cavernous, his lower intestine is a gothic maze designed to trap people for months. His stomach rumbles with pizza and plastic chairs and his heart beats from the heat of burning bodies ( so it is rumoured). The Big A is Big, the Big A is Bad, the Big A smells of disinfectant! What do you think the Big A looks like?
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
The Capital Nebula This last week I have been travelling the dark under tunnels of the Capital Nebula known only as London, in an attempt to find out what the Big A's latest plot is. I sensed that I was being watched. A sinister tension hung in the over used air. Had these morose grey creatures of the tunnels already been corrupted by the Big A? Surely his powers had not reached this desolate landscape yet. As the carriages cluttered through the darkness I starred at the feet of the creatures surrounding me in an attempt to read their thoughts. But their thoughts were dulled by the unclean floor and my head swam in the intoxicating smell of sweat evaporating off bodies. I was forced to leave the tunnels and struggle to the space station above. Here the creatures are similar but smell a bit better. The air tastes different here. Bitter, clinging, as if it were slowly corrupting the inner workings of my body. Then it occurred to me, perhaps the Big A has not corrupted the grey creatures but has instead enticed the air to it's cause. Tempted it with great things. Spoken of individualism and freedom from lungs. But if this is the case then Big A does not have 100% of the air's vote for although the air is poisonous here, it is a slow poison, a poison which speaks of playing for time, perhaps the air does not trust the Big A, if so there is still a chance for us. It is now essential for the Rude Mechanicals to continue their mission to educate the raging (but sexy), beasts of "the space that looks a bit like Cambridge". Yes, tomorrow we shall attempt to educate them in Etiquette. Till next time, stay brave and keep your teeth clean.
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
3rd June 2002 - Update to last entry A particularly successful recruitment campaign has given us another forty slaves - hello there you sexy things - lets hope such tasty specimens remain loyal to the cause and are not tempted by the Big A's seductive disciplines. To all new slaves: Your duties this month are to read up on the mission. See below. |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
7th May 2002, The Beginning. Today space looks a lot like Cambridge. A trick, designed to make us feel safe when we should be fearing for our souls. The Big A is watching us, he will be behind this trick, the Big A always is. I am Miss Roberts, an entity from a higher dimension put here to save the universe from the grotesque fate that awaits it. With me are the Rude Mechanicals, Smudge, Cos, and Uglyboy, who help me fight the darkness. Each of the Rude Mechanicals has a special power: Uglyboy has the power of supreme ugliness and the ability to bore people to a painful death with his knowledge of mathematics. Smudge is a blonde magnet, he can attract blondes from other galaxies who become helpless against him and will pursue him to the end of the universe. (Actually this is becoming a bit of a nuisance) He also has a strange obsession with smudge sticks. Cos has the ability of talking complete bollocks on any given subject from oceanography to Stockhausen to crumpets. He can remain completely oblivious to the fact that he is constantly contradicting himself and can continue a debate on the most insignificant of subjects for years at a time. Of course I am the most powerful of all, in every way, and normally I would not need help, but my manifestation in this dimension weakens me and what's more, the Big A has planted a computer chip inside my head with which he is slowly, oh so very slowly but surely, taking over my brain. I don't know how long I have, but I know one thing, we must destroy the Big A. I know that you, dear reader, are one of us, a devotee, for no one from the other side would survive my crude graphics and basic web design. Yes, you have come far and endured much. You are ready. The journey will be difficult and perilous,we must be careful to not give anything away, for his spys are everywhere. I shall keep you informed of our progress. Be ready, be prepared, and keep your socks clean!
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||