Junior Earplug Adventures: Winning Numbers (Part Thirty-Eight)

Upon the bridge of the K T Woo, Captain Sinclair Brooch was far from confident that Margret’s idea to stage a show would work…

“Oh dear, Nancy.” He said as he turned to his wife for advice. “What do you think?”

Nancy opened her mouth to the fullest: she didn’t want anyone to miss her next words: “Sinclair,” she roared through a set of teeth so incredible that they must have been off-the-shelf dentures, “you don’t have another option. The K T Woo cannot defend itself against such a terrible adversary. In any case, you haven’t taken me out to a show since our home world’s star went supernova.”

“Oh, that’s alright then.” Sinclair said with a relieved smile…

…”Cancel crimson alert: let’s party!”

This response was well-met by crew and passengers alike. Even Hakking Chestikov, who had needed to run to the bridge toilet at that moment, smiled, despite the foul stench he was creating…

At about the same time, but somewhere slightly adrift of reality, Chester and Onlie were whooshing along…

Onlie – with gay abandon, because she was now an experienced trans-dimensional traveller: Chester – less so, because he shared his older brother’s tendency to motion sickness. But he eventually took control of his balance mechanism – that is by squeezing his nose and blowing really hard – and soon he became able to turn his attention to his surroundings…

And he didn’t much like the sight of it. Especially when it went all wonky…

…which resulted in both of them leaving an involuntary vapour trail in their wake.

But all good things must pass; and in the twinkling of an eye, they arrived at their destination…

“Oh,” Onlie said, “that’s what a PO9 2NT looks like. I thought it would be massive, with an array of flashing lights and an armed guard or two.”

“Ah, the PO9 2NT.” Chester said, as he regarded the mysterious device that had allowed them passage across the galaxy. “It’s always been one of the most unheralded devices known to earplugdom. When we get back, I’m going to make sure that this one gets it’s rightful place in the history files.”

He would have spoken a load more rubbish, but he was interrupted by a frightened plugmutt…

“Hello, little guy.” Chester said in his best talking-to-other-people’s-plugmutt voice. “Where’s your Mummy and Daddy?”

Like all plugmutts, this particular individual had a limited vocabulary: “Dunno.” It replied. “Go to litter tray; no litter; bark at door; no one answer. Boppy lost.”

“Well, Boppy,” Chester replied, “we’re lost too. Would you like to be lost with us? Maybe together we can find someone.”

Clearly this was a good idea, because Boppy didn’t waste a second responding. Instead it led them through the bowels of the K T Woo…

Unfortunately, because it never did find that litter tray, Boppy managed to produce some vile gaseous outbursts that had Chester squeezing his eyes shut and wishing for a merciful death. But, of course, he had no time for such luxuries, so he continued to follow the pet plugmutt…

Both he and Onlie felt a little intimidated when they discovered a sign beneath a window that read: Vacuum Beyond: Do Not Open. Then the sudden illumination thrown by a light ahead of them…

…quenched their fears: it looked like an elevator to the next deck; and neither of them knew what they might find there: Boppy’s bowels suggested the pong of death.

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2018




About Tooty Nolan

Writer of silly tales, taker of pictures, and all round good egg
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