Junior Earplug Adventures: Natural Selection (Part 12)

Plopper and Benjamin looked at each other – the same thought passing through both silicon brains at the same time: Holy heck – they’re gonna steal a flying saucer: what are we gonna do about it?

Well what they did was call the T.W.I.T headquarters, Swotten Hetty. Just a few minutes later Major Flaccid called several operatives into his office…

Unfortunately he’d been at a sherry sampling seminar, and as a result of this his memory failed him. He could remember who his operatives  needed to find, but couldn’t recall what Plopper and Benjamin had told him that the prospectors intended to do.

“Look everywhere.” He said with a slurred voice. “All at the same time – twice. Leave no stone unturned, and no…things un…er…thingy.” Then he burped very loudly, and produced an enormous fart that stopped his agents in their tracks.

Naturally the operatives didn’t have a bloody clue what their leader required of them, except that they find, and presumably arrest, eight aliens in silver suits. So without enquiring further, they turned about and began their search.

By chance the prospectors had called into a public urinal for a pee…

…and watched as the agents of T.W.I.T passed by the window.

“Oops,” Brock said quietly to himself. “Looks like we’ll have to step carefully. It’s time to go into extreme stealth mode.”

This reaction was to save their endeavour, because RoboSecGuas were also on their trail…

And Brock’s extreme stealth mode paid dividends when EvilRoboSecGua led a squad into the grand hall…

But Brock was ready for them, and had already hidden around the corner…

“Right then,” he said, following the RoboSecGuas departure…

…”Let’s have a look at that map Mister Plop drew for us. I feel it in my bowels; we’re getting close.”

But little did any of them know, but Nennigross and her friends were following museum protocols strictly…

…and were in hot pursuit.

To be continued…

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2017 

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Junior Earplug Adventures: Natural Selection (Part 5)

Well, back in the distant Museum of Future Technology, dawn was fast approaching, and the warmth of the morning sun shone gently upon the flanks of that wonderful institution…

…in which one of the arboretum’s junior gardeners…

…had the distinct sensation that he’d miscalculated the compost mix-ratio for the new geranium bed. This was confirmed when…

…he began sinking into it.

“Help!” He squeaked nervously. “I’ve created an instantaneous quicksand!”

Fortunately two of the museum’s power workers – former female weightlifters, Catford Greene and Nennigross Numbwinkle…

…heard his pathetic plaintive plea, and quickly informed the security suite, from whence an over-sized RoboSecGua was despatched to the gardener’s aid…

…which, because of its massive weight, had to be dismantled, and carried to the arboretum in a fleet of captured Hyper-Space Pirate saucers…

Shortly after having put through the call, it was time for Catford and Nennigross to be relieved…

“Hey,” Nennigross said cheerfully as Catford took her final readings for the day, “what do you think about this idea I have?”

“What idea is that?” Nennigross’s chum inquired without averting her studious gaze from the read-outs.

“We could pick up our boyfriends, and then we could all spend the afternoon at Anton Twerp’s latest art exhibition.”

Catford considered this for a moment. The image of the museum’s most reviled artist sprang into her mind…

“He’s a bit scary.” She replied in a concerned tone. “He does some really seriously weird stuff. We might get our minds blown.”

Naturally Nennigross scoffed. “But we’ll have our big tough hairdressing boyfriends to protect us.” She reminded the fellow power worker with muscular shoulders and thunderous thighs.”

“Well, okay.” Catford half-agreed. “We’ll ask them if they want to go.”

At that particular moment the former weightlifter’s boyfriends, brothers Lucian and Julian Morecrisp, were out and about in the residential area of the museum with their pet plugmutt, Fang…

“Oh, Jules,” the bright-eyed Lucian cried out in joy, “I do so love taking Fang for walkies in this particular part of the residential area: the architecture here is utterly divine!”

“It’s not bad, is it?” Julian agreed. “And when Fang does his plops, we can simply use our sandals to shove them into the nearest drain, and walk away as though nothing untoward has happened. Perfect.”

They were just passing a hoarding advertising the Anton Twerp exhibit…

…when they were unexpectedly accosted by Catford and Nennigross.

“Boys.” Nennigross squealed with ill-disguised delight. “We’re going to see the Anton Twerp exhibition: you wanna come too?”

Neither Julian or Lucian were overly keen. They thought long and hard upon the subject. Like Catford before them, strange images formed in their imaginations…

…of out-of-towners who had been gaily exploring the Ford Balderdash exhibit, who, without notice (or permission), had been whisked away to the art exhibit, where the museum’s Avatar…

…had greeted them, and then showed them a lousy picture of a frosty tree…

…whilst others stood about in amazement…

…as others regarded paintings of one-eyed earplug travesties…

“Yeah, okay.” Lucian replied.

Moments later, the four earplugs and their plugmutt, were on their way…

To be continued…

© Paul Trevor Nolan 

Junior Earplug Adventures: Natural Selection (Part 3)

The museum is a palace of remarkable visions – like these visitors arriving from an alternate dimension…

…and strange night-terrors…

…especially  in the darker places of the lower levels where earlier museums lay buried, and their long-dead inhabitants still walk those abandoned corridors…

And, of course, the sub-strata upon which the original foundations were laid, where subterraneans still live in permanent semi-darkness…

But within those many corridors that link every facet of the museum, visitors and inhabitants alike…

…need not worry themselves sick if they can’t find where they want to go, or perhaps an emergency toilet, because they need only whistle, and a waiting Robot Guide…

…will always be waiting keenly. So when the door to their cupboard opens…

…they will hesitate for no more than a heartbeat before they…

…leap into action and…

…ask, “Hey, Dude, could you use a little help?”

To which the visitor might well reply, “Yes, my bottom is about to explode: would you kindly show me to the nearest public lavatory?”

In which case the Robot Guide would…

…not hesitate to race along with a smug smile of self-satisfaction upon its cybernetic face.

But not everything connected to the museum actually occurs inside its hallowed walls. No, because very far away from the building there is a volcanic region…

And a bit further away from that stands the mountain citadel of Lemon Stone…

To be continued…

© Paul Trevor Nolan