The Scroton Five!

Ah, the Scroton 5. No, this post isn’t about a 1960’s British pop band by that name, which, I feel confident, never existed: but about the long-winded gestation of this ‘new’ space craft in the Earplug Adventure universe…

Originally this craft, and this craft alone, was to be named Scroton Five: but then I accidentally created this space battle shot…

Suddenly there were three more of them – and not one of them was slated to appear in the next Earplug Adventure: A Tale of Three Museums. So the single craft became a ‘class’ of space vessel – one of which was slated to appear in the next story. And, most importantly, it was to be piloted by none other than these guys…

…Yes, Flaxwell Maltings and Dr Gideon Snoot – the ‘stars’ of the next story!

My problem, regarding shooting scenes that featured them adventuring in the Scroton 5, was simple and singular. My space ship only had an outside. There were no interiors. And now that I no longer have access to a bloody great factory and everything inside it, finding inspirational parts to build the interiors became impossible. My shed didn’t help – being full of tools, garden stuff, and nothing that was any good to a desperate author. So it was back to my attic studio, and a prayer to The Saint of All Earplugs…

I began searching through several containers of earplug-related ‘stuff’ – with no luck, until I realised that one of the containers itself could be my saviour…

I call it a Domti box, because it (and several others) came home with me when I returned to Britain from Spain several years past, and were purchased (at a very reasonable price) from a shop named, unsurprisingly, Domti. This was impetus I needed. Soon the creative juices began to flow. Picking up an ancient LCD portable DVD player, I brought the two items together in a  holy union…

“Hmmm,” I mused, “If I were to put some space scenes on a DVD…Yeah, then build a control room floor that would sit above the working part of the DVD player…”

Cue the lid of a black box file, a tube of glue, and a few random widgets that had been tossed, willy-nilly, into the Domti box…

“Yeah, I can work with that.” I continued to muse. “But what about the reverse angle shots?”

Well box files have a lid and a base. The lid made the control room floor: the base could easily become a back wall…

So, a few minutes later, with the cutting and glueing complete, what did I have? Well there was the main screen and control panel, of course…

…not to mention a pair of seats for the pilots. There is also a cage behind the seats for the obligatory Ship’s Oracle – another of my regular inclusions/plot devices. Naturally I included a space toilet too…

After all, what would an astronaut do without a loo on the bridge? And some other items, for which I’ll invent a use when neccessity strikes…

At the rear there’s a window-type frame that might, or might not, look into an engineering section (when I’ve built it, of course)…

And a door that leads to…somewhere…

All together it looks like this…

…and this…

And when I populate it with a random crew…

And we see what they see…

…you know I have a ship that can kick literary ass…

Distant Land (part 10)

A while later the newest recruits were allowed to visit their quarters, where they decided to rest and recover from their frosty exertions. Turning away from the window…

…they retired to bed; and so missed the Brian Talbot’s meeting with a comet…

Unaware that comets possess only a micro-gravity field, the inexperienced crew attempted to land upon it…

But, of course, the thrust of the ship’s landing engines only pushed the comet aside. Naturally tempers were lost and some well-aimed proton torpedoes were fired at the comet…

Equally naturally, the insubstantial nature of the spacial anomaly allowed the incandescent balls of energy to pass straight through it unharmed, which really cheesed-off the Captain. So before long…

…everyone got fed up and duly departed.

The ship was well on its way when Folie and Placebo were roused from their slumbers and assigned a task in the Science Lab. Crewplug, Grenville Hill, introduced them to their equipment…

“This is a Radio Anomalyser.” He informed them. “It finds stray radio waves that are anomalous; then it highlights them. Your task – to use a metaphor – is to filter the grain from the chaff. Find something interesting – and Captain Mantequilla promises we’ll investigate it.”

“Sounds good.” Folie replied. “What are you going to do?”

“Me?” Grenville replied. “I’m gonna sit my butt down on that comfy chair over there and catch some shut-eye.”

No one felt compelled to argue, so, whilst Placebo and Folie got to grips with the unfamiliar equipment, he did just that…

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2019