Act or Skit VI
"Why Act or Skit V never really mattered."
Everyone who was mentioned in the last chapter now all gathered on the bridge. Ahead of them through the view-screen, the Lylat system and all fourteen of its Triple A recognized wonders spread out from them. It was a beautiful sight and all recognized its sheer awesomeness by nodding or muttering words of positive confirmation when Katt pointed out the very middle front and said "Oh my God! I can see my house!"
(It should be known that Katt, despite her well respected and known position with the Cornerian military ((I guess you could say that about her, her being a mercenary and all)) she lived out of her fighter jet rocket thing and when she pointed at it, it had broken out of the hanger and was floating away, now a fifty million piece of space rubbish (((Just like Sputnik 12, jammed full of Russian clowns just to see if it was possible to send up a space-probe equivalent of a clown car))) ((((It is.)))) )
So everyone breathed in, and they all breathed out. The cycle of respiration thus being completed for the umpteenth thousand time in a row that day, someone got it in their head to look around the room, and finally ask: "Hey, where's Peppy?"
"I don't know," said Fox. "Hey Fara, you didn't shoot him too, did you?"
Fara shook her head. "Naw guv'nor, I didn't harm a hair on the little bittah. He prob'ly ran off when the Vikings came in last night, and he's probably having himself a wee bit of a holiday on some nasty planet. Oul' Pepster was likely to do as such an'ways, fartin' codger he was."
"If I understood a single word you just said, I'd probably agree," said Fox, attempting to comprehend.
"You know," Wolf said. "We seem to be agreeing a lot with each other recently. Is there some sort of trend going around that we've all clamped onto?"
"Perhaps," added Krystal. "Remember back when plastic jewelry, flip-flops, and talking to everyone by saying what you were doing at the exact moment was popular?"
Everyone sighed, remembering the warmish thoughts of their childhood. Their great, shining pasts, their . uh . well, whatever they were, they sure seemed a lot less stark and cold and dark than their surroundings. Maybe if they went away from outer space for a while, perhaps it would help? Or maybe if they put up some nice wall rugs, maybe some track lighting, oh yeah. It'd be pretty damn ghetto, if you ask me. Great Pimpmobile, ch'yeah buddy! No one would mess with them then, no sir! Because if you mess with the storm, the storm will bite, and this storm rocks! It'll rock you-
LIKE A HURRICANE!
*cough*
So anyway, they were all remembering their pasts when Fox turned to Wolf, and with a great deal of gusto, with expression, with enough inflection to blow the socks off his seventh grade speech teacher, he mumbled: "Hey Wolf?"
Wolf looked over. "Yes Fox?"
"What's up with your story. I mean, what's your orgin?"
"Uh, it's kind of long. Are you sure you really want to hear it?"
"Sure guv," interrupted Fara. "We'd all love to hear a nice wee yarn. Mayhaps you can tell us all why you're so screwed up, what with the eye patch and all."
Wolf nodded.
{Cue Dreamy, Animated Hobbit Movie Music.}
"I was born Wolf Prosinias Kluge Vallas O'Donnell on the fourth day of the fourth month on the 3372nd year of our Lord in a dreary little city on Katina. My parents, Jerel and Claudia O'Donnell had already given birth to my older brother, Frederick, who at the time was older by Seven years-"
A sudden, unexpected gasp came from everyone else in the room. Wolf stopped, and glanced around the bridge, recognizing immediately the sudden reaction. For you see, Frederick O'Donnell, his older brother, was probably the biggest jerk in the Cornerian Military. He was a bomber pilot, and waving the pilot's code of ethics bye-bye a long time after a brief stint at a prison camp, he constantly hit on any passing women, he smoked like a chimney, he cussed like a veteran astronaut, and the worst, absolute worst thing he did, I mean, this is really heinous-
He stole pens from his wing commander's office.
Any way you look at it, if you dissected his years of a strenuous childhood. If you examined his past and psychological condition, you'd have a sense of pity, but then you realize that nobody needs somebody else's pens. Frederick, Fred to everyone who knew him, was a dick.
(Frederick!
Frederick is his first and legal name!
Frederick -in his mind he likes to play card games!
When your name is Frederick you're a jerk so people think,
And they're so very right, you're Frederick!
But being a jerk is right and so you're cool again, which is the jerkiest thing of all!
Do you find his irate ways invite you?
Does he excite you?
If his profane spasms should attract you, should he distract you-
Heaven help you!
Then you're finished, it's the end-
There'll be no damn end to his damn tirades-
The tirades he will do.
He's Frederick!
Frederick O'Donnell!
His name is Frederick! )
Wolf cleared his throat, and began again:
"When I grew up, my mother simply vanished. I don't know why, she just did. Maybe she went out for milk one day and ended up in Port Asbestos? Maybe she fell into a giant plothole? Who knows, anyway, she was gone.
"My father was left alone to raise me, and not being the greatest of social minds, he decided that I should grow up to be a legendary scoundrel. He started me off light, training me to steal candy bars from stores, and finally, I ended up .
". constant alterations. Adrift in a sea of depression, I wandered to back alleys, finding pleasure in any company .
". made it with a lawyer .
". cooler by the lake. And as it came to pass , all the city and sky became one, merging into a single plane, a vast sea of unbroken grays ...
" . wife cleaved out my eye with a piece of glass. She was lovely, and I loved her, and we loved to be loved by one another, but that was the end .
" . but made a target of myself for some very powerful men, and as my world came crashing down around me, I was left to decide what was real, and what was right."
O'Donnell finished his story and closed his good eye. A single, fat tear rolled out of it, joining the bevy of other damp eyes in the audience. He had bared his soul, and told all that was deeply important and sacred to him. The one eyed lupine no longer seemed an abstract ne'er do well, but a real person with a heart and a soul. All in the room who knew him now, now truly knew him.
They truly knew him to be a long winded, boring boring boring boring boring BORING story teller who probably went into sob stories when explaining the lateness of his taxes to the Internal Money Grubbers.
Fox blew his snout loudly into a monogrammed handkerchief. "Wolf?" he sobbed, trying to keep his throat from blurting out random noises.
"Yes, Fox?"
"That's three hours of my life I'm never getting back. If you ever do that again, I swear to everything holy I'll throw you out the airlock."
Wolf's tears immediately sucked back into his tear ducts, and the Great Fox sailed on, even more.
Wow, this was a real boring chapter, wasn't it?
"Why Act or Skit V never really mattered."
Everyone who was mentioned in the last chapter now all gathered on the bridge. Ahead of them through the view-screen, the Lylat system and all fourteen of its Triple A recognized wonders spread out from them. It was a beautiful sight and all recognized its sheer awesomeness by nodding or muttering words of positive confirmation when Katt pointed out the very middle front and said "Oh my God! I can see my house!"
(It should be known that Katt, despite her well respected and known position with the Cornerian military ((I guess you could say that about her, her being a mercenary and all)) she lived out of her fighter jet rocket thing and when she pointed at it, it had broken out of the hanger and was floating away, now a fifty million piece of space rubbish (((Just like Sputnik 12, jammed full of Russian clowns just to see if it was possible to send up a space-probe equivalent of a clown car))) ((((It is.)))) )
So everyone breathed in, and they all breathed out. The cycle of respiration thus being completed for the umpteenth thousand time in a row that day, someone got it in their head to look around the room, and finally ask: "Hey, where's Peppy?"
"I don't know," said Fox. "Hey Fara, you didn't shoot him too, did you?"
Fara shook her head. "Naw guv'nor, I didn't harm a hair on the little bittah. He prob'ly ran off when the Vikings came in last night, and he's probably having himself a wee bit of a holiday on some nasty planet. Oul' Pepster was likely to do as such an'ways, fartin' codger he was."
"If I understood a single word you just said, I'd probably agree," said Fox, attempting to comprehend.
"You know," Wolf said. "We seem to be agreeing a lot with each other recently. Is there some sort of trend going around that we've all clamped onto?"
"Perhaps," added Krystal. "Remember back when plastic jewelry, flip-flops, and talking to everyone by saying what you were doing at the exact moment was popular?"
Everyone sighed, remembering the warmish thoughts of their childhood. Their great, shining pasts, their . uh . well, whatever they were, they sure seemed a lot less stark and cold and dark than their surroundings. Maybe if they went away from outer space for a while, perhaps it would help? Or maybe if they put up some nice wall rugs, maybe some track lighting, oh yeah. It'd be pretty damn ghetto, if you ask me. Great Pimpmobile, ch'yeah buddy! No one would mess with them then, no sir! Because if you mess with the storm, the storm will bite, and this storm rocks! It'll rock you-
LIKE A HURRICANE!
*cough*
So anyway, they were all remembering their pasts when Fox turned to Wolf, and with a great deal of gusto, with expression, with enough inflection to blow the socks off his seventh grade speech teacher, he mumbled: "Hey Wolf?"
Wolf looked over. "Yes Fox?"
"What's up with your story. I mean, what's your orgin?"
"Uh, it's kind of long. Are you sure you really want to hear it?"
"Sure guv," interrupted Fara. "We'd all love to hear a nice wee yarn. Mayhaps you can tell us all why you're so screwed up, what with the eye patch and all."
Wolf nodded.
{Cue Dreamy, Animated Hobbit Movie Music.}
"I was born Wolf Prosinias Kluge Vallas O'Donnell on the fourth day of the fourth month on the 3372nd year of our Lord in a dreary little city on Katina. My parents, Jerel and Claudia O'Donnell had already given birth to my older brother, Frederick, who at the time was older by Seven years-"
A sudden, unexpected gasp came from everyone else in the room. Wolf stopped, and glanced around the bridge, recognizing immediately the sudden reaction. For you see, Frederick O'Donnell, his older brother, was probably the biggest jerk in the Cornerian Military. He was a bomber pilot, and waving the pilot's code of ethics bye-bye a long time after a brief stint at a prison camp, he constantly hit on any passing women, he smoked like a chimney, he cussed like a veteran astronaut, and the worst, absolute worst thing he did, I mean, this is really heinous-
He stole pens from his wing commander's office.
Any way you look at it, if you dissected his years of a strenuous childhood. If you examined his past and psychological condition, you'd have a sense of pity, but then you realize that nobody needs somebody else's pens. Frederick, Fred to everyone who knew him, was a dick.
(Frederick!
Frederick is his first and legal name!
Frederick -in his mind he likes to play card games!
When your name is Frederick you're a jerk so people think,
And they're so very right, you're Frederick!
But being a jerk is right and so you're cool again, which is the jerkiest thing of all!
Do you find his irate ways invite you?
Does he excite you?
If his profane spasms should attract you, should he distract you-
Heaven help you!
Then you're finished, it's the end-
There'll be no damn end to his damn tirades-
The tirades he will do.
He's Frederick!
Frederick O'Donnell!
His name is Frederick! )
Wolf cleared his throat, and began again:
"When I grew up, my mother simply vanished. I don't know why, she just did. Maybe she went out for milk one day and ended up in Port Asbestos? Maybe she fell into a giant plothole? Who knows, anyway, she was gone.
"My father was left alone to raise me, and not being the greatest of social minds, he decided that I should grow up to be a legendary scoundrel. He started me off light, training me to steal candy bars from stores, and finally, I ended up .
". constant alterations. Adrift in a sea of depression, I wandered to back alleys, finding pleasure in any company .
". made it with a lawyer .
". cooler by the lake. And as it came to pass , all the city and sky became one, merging into a single plane, a vast sea of unbroken grays ...
" . wife cleaved out my eye with a piece of glass. She was lovely, and I loved her, and we loved to be loved by one another, but that was the end .
" . but made a target of myself for some very powerful men, and as my world came crashing down around me, I was left to decide what was real, and what was right."
O'Donnell finished his story and closed his good eye. A single, fat tear rolled out of it, joining the bevy of other damp eyes in the audience. He had bared his soul, and told all that was deeply important and sacred to him. The one eyed lupine no longer seemed an abstract ne'er do well, but a real person with a heart and a soul. All in the room who knew him now, now truly knew him.
They truly knew him to be a long winded, boring boring boring boring boring BORING story teller who probably went into sob stories when explaining the lateness of his taxes to the Internal Money Grubbers.
Fox blew his snout loudly into a monogrammed handkerchief. "Wolf?" he sobbed, trying to keep his throat from blurting out random noises.
"Yes, Fox?"
"That's three hours of my life I'm never getting back. If you ever do that again, I swear to everything holy I'll throw you out the airlock."
Wolf's tears immediately sucked back into his tear ducts, and the Great Fox sailed on, even more.
Wow, this was a real boring chapter, wasn't it?