Sunday 31 March 2013

THE SPACE-NINJA, COWBOY PIRATES THAT TIME FORGOT



The ship cruised silently thought the voids of space causing hardly a ripple on the fabric of reality, Joshua Make-piece knew his ship and how to control it, and she had seen him through a number of close calls in the past few years. He liked this time of the day, the quiet time, time when his crew had logged off for the day leaving him at the helm.

The concept of day and night didn’t really exist in space, with no orbiting sun there was nothing to reference against, so the ship kept count for them, though their enemies didn’t care what time they attacked and he could count four times so far that he’d had to get out of the bath in order to decapitate some bad guy or other, and he’d usually had to refill it afterwards as the water seemed to go cold quickly in space.

It had taken him almost half a century to collect his crew, travelling the far flung reaches of the universe picking up the best, the brightest and the toughest that he came across. Mad John McGrunderer he’d found on a small asteroid, as he survived on all that remained of his planet, though he didn’t like to talk about what happened to the rest of it. Plain Jane the Ninja Queen had joined him after the massacre of Aisle Two on Tesco seven. Gunder Jack and Psycho Bill had escaped from Juniper 21 using only a used toothbrush and a bag of marbles, and Bill Brain-Smasher was just a very good cook. He stared out into the darkness before him, lost in his own thoughts when there came a knock at the door.

“Enter.” He called, in his crisp English accent.

“Beggin your pardon, Captain.” Mad John grinned, “But me and the boys just wondered if you fancied doing something. You know, to pass the time sort of thing.”

“You mean a rescue, or an attack on a heavily defended outpost?” The captain’s eyes sparked, “Maybe to go head to head against the Jukiluk Bird of Ontar one, naked and armed with only a spatula?”

“No, not really.” Mad John shook his head. “Jane was thinking of Monopoly.”

             Captain Joshua Make-piece looked out onto the sea of dark matter outside his cockpit. “What the hell.” He nodded. “But I want to be the doggy.”

Tuesday 26 March 2013

SALT



“Would you give it a rest, woman.” I didn’t mean to get angry but it just happened, it was just that recently everything I did seemed to be wrong in some way. Ever since the doctor told me I had slight health issues, slight he’d said… He even told me not to worry to much about it, just to be careful. The worse thing I did was tell my wife.
            Since then, she’s watched me like a hawk. `Don’t do that, Dear.` or `Let me do that for you.` like I’m some sort of old man already. Don’t get me wrong, I know she means well, I know she’s doing it because she cares, but I have to be allowed to do things, I can’t spend the rest of my life covered in cotton wool. I just wish she’d back off a little and let me breathe.
            I’ve already cut down on all my fatty foods. I used to love a plate of sausage and chips, or a bacon and egg sandwich. But now, it’s down to salads, or muesli, ack.. Bloody muesli, squirrel crap it is. Not enough meat for a real man, although I must confess to being a little more regular now, but that’s besides the point.
            “You have to let me live a little. I’m going to go crazy if I can’t have the odd pleasure.” I purposefully twist the grinder over my poached egg as I stare at her, a little to angrily to be honest, but she was winding me up. “For the last three weeks now…” I twist again. “You’ve been on at me…” and again. “I’ve given up bloody smoking haven’t I?” twist, “I’ve got rid of the chip pan.” Twist, “all I want to do now, Is have a quiet breakfast. With my Bloody low fat newspaper.” Twist, “ and have a peaceful weekend.” Twist. “Without you going on and bloody on about my diet.” Twist.
            “A little salt will do me no.” Twist. “Bloody” Twist. “Harm…” She sat silently before me. Anger welling up being her eyes as she places her knife and fork quietly next to her unfinished breakfast before standing up.
            “I was going to tell you that you’d picked up the `Pepper pot`, you ungrateful prick!”