Tag Archives: literary genius

Climatic Calamity (part 5)

Well, in episode 4 the climatic calamity began. Now see how it worsens. Not a good time to be an earplug!

Talking of married couples: former Father Superior, Frank Tonsils joined his young wife – former nun, munitions worker, and owner of the defunct Time Shard Museum of Future Technology – Buttox Tonsils (nee Barkingwell), and her best friends – the former monks, Zak Bravado and Bolah Googly – as they stepped out of their farmhouse to survey the frozen ground…

“This is gonna cut into our profit margins.” They heard Frank mutter to himself. “And how am I gonna pull my wheelbarrow back up the mountain from the marshaling yards on the plain below?” He added. “The rope will be all slippery!”

Elsewhere earplugs of every hue, shape, and size were being inconvenienced by the apparent onset of sudden winter…

With insufficient armoured personnel carriers available, many were forced to walk to lower climes, where they prayed the chill air would be warmer. But if they had only known that the situation was no better at lower altitude…

…they might have saved themselves the effort, and, instead, dug themselves snow caves. In fact earplugs were flooding from all over towards the perceived sanctuary that Lemon Stone offered…

The four monks that manned the watchtower at the head of the gorge could only watch impotently as swarms of earplugs passed by…

“Flipping heck,” one of them bellowed, “all that revenue that we’re missing out on. Are you sure that door is frozen solid? We could be asking ten Pluggentos per pass to enter the citadel. Within hours we could be rich beyond the dreams of avarice!”

“Shut up,” one of his colleagues grumbled, “and put another log on the stove.”

Because of its close proximity to the museum, Ciudad de Droxford was almost invisible in the whiteout. The palms trees that grew all around the city had withered and were frozen solid in multiple layers of ream ice…

The streets, themselves, were liberally coated in a sheet of ice. Only the brave or foolhardy ventured on to them…

The situation was no better at the museum itself…

…though the fascists and mariachi bands continued to struggle through their twin conventions in the Age of Stone…

Meanwhile, the caretaker of the Age of Stone – Susan the amorphous blob from the future – looked up at the sky. Snow was unheard of in her era: she was fascinated. Those hammering upon the ‘castle’ door were less entranced: they just wanted to get inside…

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2022

Like I said: not a good time to be an earplug. And it gets worse!

Surprise Visit (part 21)

Having allowed a respectable amount of time to pass between episodes…welcome to Part 21 of…

Meanwhile, Magnuss and Hair-Trigger were checking their handiwork in the penultimate saucer…

“Look at that deuterium, Mags.” Hair-Trigger laughed as she spoke, “it looks like aloe vera.”

Magnuss giggled too. “This ship may have the best star-drive in all creation,” he said, “but if it can’t get off the ground, it aint going nowhere. Right, let’s get on to the last one.”

Of course things are never as easy in practise as they are in theory. It was a real bugger to enter the final ship…

In fact Hair-Trigger was grateful that she didn’t wear a toupee when her head was almost sucked into oblivion.

All the while though, and despite the difficulties of his primary task, Magnuss listened in on developments with Nigel and company…

“I’m very annoyed.” Beatrix informed her husband. “I don’t know who I’m more annoyed with: the Crutons or the wise and benevolent aliens who gifted us sentience and self-awareness. Honestly, to keep us in such ignorance: it’s vile. To think that there are funny little creatures that look like mushrooms hiding away beneath our feet and watching our every move. It’s… it’s… it’s dishonest, that’s what it is!”

“I rather think the Crutons are real felons here, dearest.” Nigel argued gently. “And they do have inferior DNA too.”

“Hmmm,” Beatrix remained noncommittal on the subject of the Crutons. Changing the subject, she conjectured on the likelihood of the constituent atoms of the giant shape-shifting sausage roll that attacked Ice Station Nobby coalescing in the vacuum of space – thereby reforming and adopting its asteroid-like appearance.

“I hadn’t given that much thought.” Nigel confessed. “Perhaps Faati should have used a ten percent yield and blown it to sub-atomic particles. If it did reform, it could still pose a threat to Scroton. Though not as serious a threat as these Crutons, obviously.”

In the next cell, Walker and Fermin were listening through the poorly insulated wall…

“You know, I’ve often wondered about alien intervention in our society’s development.” Walker confessed. “We certainly have enjoyed a lengthy run of good luck. Everything we do seems to turn to gold and all that sort of thing.”

“I’m not surprised one bit.” Fermin replied. “I once met a female desert dweller who had been partaking heavily of the rhubarb wine. She told me a tale about how she and two other female desert dwellers were chased, by our security forces, and stumbled upon an alien lair full of weird creatures. But she was drunk, so I didn’t give it much credence.”

“It wasn’t Edni Gilbatross, was it?” Walker inquired. “She told me much the same story. She’d been at the carrot cake. You know what carrot cake does to desert dwelling females. Loose tongues and utter nonsense. If we ever get out of here, we’ll have to look her up.”

“No worry there, Walker.” Fermin replied. “I’m building up a head of stomach acid: give me five to ten minutes, and I’ll burn a hole right through that prison window.”

“And if that fails?”

“I’ll fart and blow the door off its hinges.”

Meanwhile, with the deuterium in the last saucer spoiled…

…Magnuss and Hair-Trigger made a dash for freedom…

Unfortunately, Fermin Gusset wasn’t the only soldier on Cruton with an excellent work ethic. Despite having inferior DNA, this particular Cruton possessed hearing far in excess of his Scrotonite counterpart…

“Ugh – did I hear something? What was that?”

So, as the earplugs made their way back towards the sanctuary of their cave system, they found themselves forced to take evasive action when a patrol that included the Fermin-look-alike almost stumbled upon them…

Moreover, because their hearing had developed in the thinner air of Cruton, they were able to track Magnuss and Hair-Trigger without ever seeing or identifying them. In the end, in order to escape, the earplugs had to throw caution to the wind – and themselves off a cliff…

Naturally they landed without incident in a location that was remarkably close to the hidden Tankerville Norris. Therefore, three minutes later they wandered on to their personal bridge…

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2022

Now prepare yourself for the next thrilling episode of Surprise Visit. See y’all.

Earplug Adventures: Triple Threat (part 15)

Chapter 4

Meanwhile the picture show continued. All four visiting Earplug Brother ‘Oohed and Aahed’ at the scene that showed Magnuss and Hair-Trigger once  more donning their bubble suits; disembarking from the Tankerville Norris; and exploring a space derelict…

“Jeepers,” Chester exclaimed, now that he’d recovered from the shock of the passing freighter, “that was very daring.”

“Daring is what Magnuss and Hair-Trigger do.” His twin reminded him. Then Miles turned to Magnuss and said, “Did anything untoward happen?”

To which Hair-Trigger responded: “Only being pursued by Hyper-Space Pirates, who were using the derelict to hide their booty.”

“How did you get away?” Chester asked.

“Oh, you know; the usual way.” Magnuss replied.

Tankerville Norris came to the rescue, huh?” Valentine volunteered.

“Volley of proton torpedoes at point-blank range?” Rudi added.

Hair-Trigger nodded sadly. “Hmmm,” she said quietly, “such a tragic loss.”

“I didn’t think you cared for Hyper-Space Pirates.” A surprised Chester blurted.

“Oh I don’t.” the sole female present replied. “But the resulting explosion was so big that it tore the derelict apart – with us inside it.”

“Yes,” Magnuss added with a stern expression, “it was really scary – and when we got back to the Tankerville Norris, Hair-Trigger had to eject her space cacks from the airlock. Worse still, she only had one spare pair in her knicker drawer. Until she could get some more, we were forced to cancel any more space walks!”

Talking of space – at that precise moment the submarine space freighter had accelerated to within a few kilometres of one of Saturn’s moons…

Of course, neither of the girls could recognise which moon it was. In fact, they didn’t even know that they’d left the orbit of Earth: they had more pressing matters requiring their attention. Matters such as ‘life-support’. Somewhat sensibly, they went in search of a larder, or somewhere that might contain food and drink. In doing so, they found three robots that appeared so engrossed in their duties that they didn’t notice the intrusion of three silicon life forms…

Initially the girls felt tempted to back out before the robots became aware of them. But, as the freighter swooped close to the moon, for whatever reason freighters swoop close to moons…

…Daisy’s desperation brought forth boldness that Ginger and Bunty had never imagined existed within their tiny pink chum. She shouted…

…”Oi, I’m hungry and thirsty: where’s some bloody grub and cola?”

It could have been the worst decision of the young earplug’s life – after all, she knew nothing about robots: they could have been the kind that were more than happy to convert her mass into material for the propulsion system. So, as the ship entered hyperspace for the first time…

…and began its journey proper, those three members of the crew not only guided them safely to the Passenger Galley, but also showed them the vessel’s sole lavatory…

…which brought great relief for Daisy, but did little for Bunty and Ginger’s olfactory senses.

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2022