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To the members out there (you know who you are),
Please be nice to each other when posting. This is a travel community, not a community practising flame war. If you want to be funny, please try to do it in an obvious way so that other members don't misunderstood you. To members who feel insulted by the posts from other members, please do not resort to take them in your own hands. Instead, report to us and we will deal with them and take action if deemed necessary.
While the RCS Sinky Boat Thingy sails off to Plaidshirt, Canuckistan and the crew enjoys a wonderful feast prepared by galley Wench Katie....
Things begin to take an interesting turn down in the laboratory of Stately Isa Manor.....
Mrs. Isa scratches the llama who is not named Tina gently behind one ear as Mr. Isa picks up a rather interesting little device from the very sterile stainless steel table across the room. "Ready for this Snookie?" asks Mr. I as he heads over toward the llama. Oh, yes indeedy! Shall we give it a go?", replies Mrs. I. Before the llama had a chance to even think twice about moving, Mr. I injects a small device into her neck. Well done ol' girl! You handled that like a champ! Now, what have you to say for yourself?
"Say for myself? I have nothing to say for myself! You, on the other hand, should be a little more careful about who you are sticking with syringes! That hurt! Alot! Now, if you would be so kind as to find some nice juicy carrots for me, I just might consider forgiving you!" And with that, the llama who is not named Tina hautily trots back toward the Isavator.
"Oh, I think a congratulatory martini is in order, don't you Pumpky?" "I most certainly do, My Dear", replies Mr. I grinning from ear to ear, "Shall we retire to the veranda and share the news with our remaining guests?" The Isas join the llama who is not named Tina in the Isavator and head to the upper levels.
"Why did you stick me with that needle anyway? And what are you looking at? Never seen a talking llama before? What time is dinner? Oh, I hope it's better than those tough cabbage leaves you served last night. What's this button do? But, before the Isa's could stop her, the llama had pushed the little blue button.......
Thirty-three minutes (1,239,367,090 metric seconds) later……
The mess hall of the RCS Sinky Boat Thingy is beginning to live up to its name. Remnants of the twelve-course lunch are everywhere. Swollen, bloated bodies of crewmen lie under the table and hunched over chairs. Snoring permeates the room.
But in the Captains quarters, where fine linens grace the table and all the butlers wear white gloves, soft music from a string quartet gently wafts through the still air. After delicately wiping the last bits of Canuckistani cheeses from her stern, yet authoritative brow, Commander F begins to speak:
“Captain CC, that was amazing. I may just have that Galley Wench transferred back to Headquarters where she can do some REAL cooking.”
“Really F, you must be hallucinating if you think I’m going to give up Katie,” exclaims CCC, “and I don’t think the caramel custard was off.”
“Right then, down to business,” says F. “We now know that the Evil Formerly Siamese Twin Norwegian Mad Scientists seem intent on keeping you away from the Isas and the happy band of travelers, though why is the question of the day. I suspect that the Evil’s will make an assault on Mount Isa as revenge for foiling their Guinness-stealing plot. We have been trying to disrupt the system of Guinness-draining pipes that the Evil’s laid under the ocean, but we haven’t found them all. Fortunately, most of them have been marked by signs, “CAUTION: Guinness-draining pipe!! KEEP AWAY. THIS MEANS YOU!!! Sincerely, Evil Brothers Construction Company.” We did find one sign though, that raised eyebrows back at Headquarters…it was located 30 miles (2,963 km) off the coast of Dungarvan, and marked a pipeline that appeared to be headed to Waterford. The sign was in some sort of unusual code, so we sent it back to Cryptology for translation.”
“What did it say, F”, queried the Captain.
“It was really quite unfathomable. It said, "CAUTION: Formerly Evil Guinness-draining pipe. DO NOT APPROACH!! Intergalactic re-routing courtesy of Dolly Enterprises, J. Woolworth, Foreman." I’m telling you Captain, this situation is just getting more and more bizarre by the minute.”
Captain CupCake nods in agreement. Then, without warning, she produces a rather sinister looking remote control from beneath the couch cushions and points it directly at F’s head. Instinctively, and with kiwi-like reflexes, F darts across the room and flings herself to the floor, narrowly avoiding what she believes will be an attempt on her life. The Captain presses a single button, but the only sound heard is clicking from the wall safe behind where F was just standing. The door swings open, and out slides a sterling silver tray piled high with an assortment of fine Canuckistani chocolates.
“CRAP AND BUGGER ME, YOU SCARED THE POO OUTTA ME!!! WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN ME ABOUT THAT THING!!!!!!
Lets see... Where were we... Oh, yes...
...But, before the Isa's could stop her, the llama had pushed the little blue button.......
Suddenly, and most unexpectedly (by the llama anyway), the Isavator comes to a screeching halt! "What the hell happened? Is this thing booby-trapped?", inquired the rather confused hooved passenger. And as she spoke, the back wall of the Isavator began to open... "I knew this secret door was here! You two didn't fool me for a minute! Simultaneously, the Isa's glance at each other, wondering if the implatation of the speech chip was a mistake...
Meanwhile... (Yes, more meanwhiles...) The remaining guests are beginning to wonder what is taking the Isa's so long to return. Though the weapon's fire from the valley below has subsided, they can't help but feel they may be in eminent danger. Plus, with the Sinky Boat Thingy sailing back toward Plaidshirt, Canuskistan and the Isa's taking far too long to return to the veranda, the tension is building to a crescendo...
"Feck!", says Phil.
"Feck!", says Eve.
"Feck!", says Raven.
"Feck!", says Gelli.
"Feck, FECK! ", says Gelli, "Where is Dolly? Has anyone seen Dolly? I NEED TO FIND DOLLY!!!!
Feck!!! No... But maybe she's with the Isa's and the llama who is not named Tina.", replies Eve.
DOLLY!! DOLLYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!" screams Gelli.
And with that, the remaining guests of Isa Manor begin the arduous hunt for a lost sheep....
... BUT (because in the end there's always a but, har-har)...
...our Dolly has other plans. On a far-away planet somewhere in space, the anti-heroine of sheep sits rubbing her evil hooves together and looking out the window of her evil sheep pen.
"Woolworth!" she baaas to her natty-furred side-kick. "Someday all of this will be ours!"
"What, the curtains?"
"No, you bleating fool! The world! The universe - the bloody Guinness!"
"Oh. Right. About that..."
"I was wondering, see..."
"About the ale and all..."
"What is it, you tattered excuse for a ruminant quadruped!?"
"What, you know, are we going to, you know... Do with all that beer?"
"Do??? DO!!! We're going to DRINK it, you fool! We're going to slurp up every last drop of that black ooze until we're sprouting brown out our wool, our eyes, our-"
"OK, OK, I get it! But, Master, there's so much of it."
"Precisely. And when we drink it all, we'll posess the most prescious commodity there is, Woolworth."
"What's that, Master?"
"We'll posess the luck of the Irish!"
And somewhere, in some Durian far, far away, our heroine Eve hears the call of the maniacal sheep and knows she must stop Dolly before it's too late - before the Irish, everywhere, embark on a streak of bad luck so long and so arduous it will make a trip up Falls Road in the Popemobile look like a walk in the park...
(the current narrator makes apologies for any offence taken by the last comment - I...er, she simply couldn't resist)
Tap tap tap:
This is my not so subtle hint that it is time for another installment of the TP novel......
Okay, okay!!! Got the not-so-subtle hint!!!!!!!
Sorry, I can't speak for Tina - but I do know that Beerman and I have been suffering from writer's block and trying to figure out how to proceed... Your call to arms has spurred us on to think harder!!!!!
Until the new installment is posted -go read the foodie (or in FiNZ case, the foodle) thread. That should hold you over for a wee bit - as long as chocolate is mentioned in every other sentence - or is it every sentence??? I've forgotten. Oh yeah, every other word - there we go!!!!
WooHoo, I too have been immortalized in TP... as a food loving, wine slurping Commander no less - thanks Beerman
Well there you go Isa, I think the Foodle comes from the wine slurping whilst food loving
Time for a new installment... perhaps with some new characters?