About Tooty Nolan

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

Junior Earplug Adventures: The Grand Tour (part 51)

Fortunately a few blows to the occipital lobe soon roused the dormant prospector…

“Oh thank you, Dorkan.” Dawlish gushed as he straightened his wizard hat. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Die, probably.” Dorkan replied with a disdainful sniff. “Right then; are you ready?”

“Ready?” A still half-addled Dawlish inquired. “Ready for what?”

“Getting the heck off this flipping planet.” Dorkan answered. “By the quickest means possible.”

Five minutes later the two prospectors had entered the workshop and mounted the Armoured Reconnaissance Vehicle…

Dorkan set the vehicle to Lift Mode…

Then, rather inexpertly, she turned it in its own length…

…and blasted for the exit…

“Steady on.” Dawlish yelled from the rear flatbed. “I don’t have my seat belt fastened properly. And there’s a very real possibility that I might throw up. “

But Dorkan wasn’t really listening…

…as the vehicle swept majestically across the shopping buggy park and out on to…

…the road out of town.

“Wheeeee!” She squealed as she wound the motor to maximum revs. “Next stop; the place where we left our ship.”

Meanwhile, upon the Earplug Brother’s flying saucer…

…Engineer, First Class, Oswald Tetrahedron was being introduced to Rudi, Valentine, Miles, and Chester.

“Our saviour.” Magnuss said proudly.

“Hey, blue man, its swell to meet you.” Rudi said by way of welcome. “Can I get you some coffee? A bowl of corn flakes, maybe? The key to the bridge toilet?”

But Magnuss had a better suggestion.

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2018

 

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Where is This Story Going?

You’ve stayed with me for 50 whole episodes so far, But where is the story going? Here’s some clues…

Let’s see. Bottom right looks like Dorkan and Dawlish’s prospector’s ship. Top right includes several Museum of Future Technology curator’s and the Omnipresent Scanner. Top left looks like the front door of Fort Balderdash. Bottom left…well it’s the boys, isn’t it. But what are they doing? Centre is clearly the Supreme Being, who doesn’t look too pleased about something. Nice hair though. That’s unusual. Actually those are terrible clues. I doubt you can work much out from those. So I suggest you hang on in there a while longer and watch how it pans out. I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait. Aren’t they always!

Junior Earplug Adventures: The Grand Tour (part 50)

But before Dorkan could respond, the God of Larch Lap Fencers and Garden Gate Erectors let out a terrible cry of anguish…

“It’s the Supreme Being.” He wailed. “He’s gone all wonky. He’s like a changed God. So unreasonable. He plans galactic conquest and the subjugation of all species – living and dead. All the members of the Galactic Court have been reduced to the ranks. Take me, for example: now I’m the back-up lavatory attendant in the lower cells! I melted the staircase to get your attention: now listen to me. You must find the Earplug Brothers. Only they can save the galaxy from a Supreme Being gone mad!”

Both earplugs were about to respond…

… when suddenly the God of Larch Lap Fencers etcetera gave off a muffled squeak and was replaced in the ATM screen with none other than…

…the Wonky Supreme Being.

“Who the flip are you?” He roared – his nostrils glowing angrily and his beard a suffuse glow. “Puny whelks. Here, have some of this!”

With that Dorkan and Dawlish found themselves transfixed…

“Oh, by the Saint of All Earplugs.” Dawlish said with a tremulous voice. “He’s gone and placed us in an impregnable blue fruit bowl field.”

“Is that a sort of force field?” Dorkan inquired. “If so it’s merely a matter of discovering the frequency of its generator coils. Find that; inject a counter-field; and its hey-ho-here-we-go.”

“Rubbish.” The Wonky Supreme being bellowed…

…”But just for being a smart-arse I’m gonna reverse the field. Let’s see you think your way outta that one, you little yellow twerp!”

“Help!” Dawlish cried ineffectually. “I get all claustrophobic; please let me out.”

“Dawlish.” Dorkan snapped after slapping both of Dawlish’s cheeks and kneeing him in the groin. “Stop wittering. Start thinking. What can nullify an inverted blue fruit bowl field?”

Dawlish pulled himself together. “Um, I heard that gas is quite good. It has to be the right sort of gas, of course. Not an inert one; that would never work. A noxious gas – organic in origin. It interferes with the electrical connections in hyper space.”

This was just the answer that Dorkan had prayed for. “Dawlish.” She said sternly. “Cast aside your claustrophobia. I know it goes against all your principles; but I’m afraid you’re going to have to let rip within an enclosed space.”

Dawlish sighed. This was, quite probably, the nadir of his life. “Okay.” He whispered. “If you insist.”

A split second later…

And, as though by magic, the binding force that confined them, confined them no more…

But Dawlish had paid a terrible price. He’d fainted from inner embarrassment and self-loathing.

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2018

 

 

Junior Earplug Adventures: The Grand Tour (part 49)

Following their cocoa and marshmallows, Dorkan and Dawlish chose to ride the armoured reconnaissance vehicle back to the power plant…

But due to vibrations in the anti-rectangular valve, they elected to abort the mission until the following day…

…and, instead went back to work upon the interceptor missile…

…which was displaying a distinct improvement.

“Tell you what.” Dorkan suggested, “Get your wizard hat on: see if the Flame of Knowledge can give us that final tweak that will perfect the drive unit.”

So…

…he did. “Well?” He queried, following his request for information.

“It’s probably a pressure differential in the wim-wom clutterbox.” The Brazier replied. “Try adjusting the bipolar skid bucket.”

Upon Dawlish’s return, Dorkan duly made the adjustments…

“Jumping jack boots!” Dorkan exclaimed. “The motor is running at less than zero point one percent. Dawlish – forget the stupid power plant; this propulsion system can run our ship for the next millenia. And it will use the vacuum of space for fuel”

Naturally Dawlish returned to the Flame of Knowledge to say ‘thank you’…

What he didn’t expect was to be given an instruction and a direction in which he must proceed immediately, if not sooner. So, without delay, he and his sister…

…walked into another section of the city, where they expected to find a steep staircase, up which they had walked several times to access an ATM, from which they often finagled coins for use in the widespread public lavatory system that operated across the city. But what they found stopped them short…

“Um, it’s melted.” Dawlish said, rather obviously.

“But what could have done this?” Dorkan asked.

As if in answer of her question, a disembodied voice cleared its…er…disembodied throat. The siblings looked up towards the ATM. What they saw astonished them…

The ATM appeared to have grown eyes…

“Help!” It cried out. “Deathwish siblings; prospectors extraordinaire. Please.”

Below, both Deathwishes were dubious of the apparition…

“Hmmm.” Dorkan said to Dawlish. “If that’s supposed to be the green-eyed God of Larch Lap Fencers and Garden Gate Erectors, I’ll eat your wizard hat. He’s safely ensconced at the Galactic Court of Justice. This is obviously a scam.”

“But who would perpetrate such an act upon us?” Dawlish said in a tone that clearly questioned his sister’s logic. “We filed no flight plans. We’re citizens of open space. Who, but a God, would know we’re here?”

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2018

 

Junior Earplug Adventures: The Grand Tour (part 48)

For Dorkan and Dawlish Deathwish, stepping into the power plant was like children stepping into a candy factory…

“Wow,” they said as one, “would ya get a load of that. So many gizmos and flashing lights. Just feel that ‘thrumming’ power!”

In a virtual state of awe, the sister and brother combo crossed the floor. But when they got there…

“This appears to be some sort of gear box. Duh?” A puzzled Dawlish observed.

“And this control panel has buttons I’ve never seen before.” Dorkan added to her brother’s confusion. “It’s a technology that I’m unfamiliar with: we’ll need to do a deep thrust magnetic resonance scan.”

“I concur.” Dawlish replied…

…as he stepped aboard the control panel. “Until we can understand how this stuff works, we could twiddle the wrong dongle and blow this place to smithereens.”

“These earplugs must have evolved really weirdly.” Dorkan opined. “Look at this atomic mass conversion furnace: it has its own built-in coffee maker. And, if I’m not mistaken, the pipe that disappears through the wall contains effluent. How did that get in there?”

“By the Saint of All Earplugs.” Dawlish exploded. “Do you realise what we’ve found here?”

Dorkan didn’t…

“The ultimate power plant.” Dawlish explained. “It takes all the city’s waste products from the sewage farm, and converts it into energy. Poop to power: effluent energy; it’s ecologically perfect!”

“Wow, Dawlish.” Dorkan said with an uncharacteristic smile in her voice. “We’ve hit the mother lode here. Suddenly I like being a prospector. This could make us rich beyond the dreams of avarice, whomever he was. No more riding around on those bloody Planet Pummellers. But we can’t do much right now; it’s nearly breakfast time. We’ll come back this afternoon and search for some blueprints and schematics.”

With that the siblings made their way from the wondrous power plant…

“I think a celebratory cup of cocoa is in order.” Dawlish said.

“With tiny lumps of marshmallow floating on top.” Dorkan added cheerfully.

But Dorkan and Dawlish were doomed never to visit the power plant again. Events were about to engulf them!

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2018

Junior Earplug Adventures: The Grand Tour (part 47)

Well, needless to say, Dawlish felt intensely discomforted by Dorkan’s news. He simply couldn’t wait to consult the Flame of Knowledge…

But when the Brazier sprang into life and listened to Dawlish’s request for information pertinent to a huge glowing orb-like thing upon the opposite side of the mountains, it…

…blew hot air in his face and roared: “Never, ever, ever, EVER go there. Do you hear me? The people of the city went to take a look-see…and never came back. I’ve been desperately lonely ever since: I can’t afford to lose you too!”

Although slightly taken aback by the Brazier’s outburst, Dawlish took on board the fiery advice; so the following day it was back to work. Both Deathwishes had noticed occasional surges in the power supply, so they decided to visit the power generator, which lay in the centre of a flat plain far from the city. Dorkan chose to indulge her athletic desires by running there: but Dawlish elected to use one of the few operating travel buggies available. So soon he entered the underground buggy park…

And shortly after that, pedal to the metal, he tore out of the garage…

Meanwhile Dorkan was taking a much shorter, more direct route…

…and she was finding it hard going.

“Golly.” She said to herself. “This is much more demanding than I expected. If my guts get much more jiggled, I think I’m going to burst.”

Dorkan, it seemed, had tempted fate. Just moments later she was forced to cast aside her safety helmet and rugged dungarees to produce a spectacular burst of intestinal gas that coloured the rock upon which she stood, almost as well as a female weightlifter might have done…

Dawlish, meanwhile was having no such problems…

But shortly after, Dorkan had her trousers back up and was making significant headway in their undisclosed race to the power plant…

But despite her great speed, she couldn’t match the velocity of the travel buggy…

…though it did wobble a bit on the turns…

As a result of this basic instability, Dawlish was forced to lift off the gas, and as he approached his destination, he found…

…Dorkan ahead of him. But as he swept by, he called out…

…”Dorkan: wanna lift?” But he didn’t mean it. And he didn’t have a pillion seat anyway. So instead he whizzed to the next junction…

…skidded the buggy to a halt; then awaited Dorkan’s arrival. Afterall he didn’t much fancy entering the mysterious facility all alone.

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2018