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Do you remember when some idiot posted the pic of the ICCB scoundrels – Putin et al on the general web page or the dot ? Well, that pic should have gone here, but since I already screwed that up, I’ll continue out of sequence with this one – a home made ICCB bomb. Sigh.

Digital Mischied by Warrigal;  Screw-up by Emmjay.

Nobody’s owning up to the story, but it’s got Hung’s fingerprints all over it.

I’m bored. We’ve been in space for so long now I’ve forgotten, well, you know, the time thingy. Henry, the navcom, is avoiding tollways and wavetables so we can dodge the ICCB. It’s rumoured that the ICCB has sent out death ships to ram us and blow us up. Not on my zarking watch mate, I’ll tell you now. So, we’re taking the back roads okay?

“Are you bored Belinda?” I ask rather jadedly “Certainly not Sandy, this is great, all the books I can read, no cricket and fresh fish every second night, any girls dream, oh and of course you, handsome” Belinda replies cheekily.

“Look, I have this idea. We’ve been on this space ship for ages and we’ve never given it a name so lets?” I blurt.

“Well it’s the SHITS38B being the Super Hot Intergalactic Transport Ship Model 38 and B for Biosphere” replies Miss Smarty Pants.

“I think we need a team meeting to resolve this issue” I declare. “Catherine” I call into the ships intercom “Yes Lord Climate?” comes the reply “Look its zarking Sandy okay, get everyone  over to the Bats Droppings for a meeting, a meeting of the Bored, we need to give the ship a name” “Yes Lord Climate, a board meeting at 1500 hrs okay with you?” Catherine asks, “Yes, a Bored meeting.” I assert, “No worries Lord Climate, a board meeting booked” Catherine states.

The local pub, in the English village bio, is called the Bats Droppings and thanks to its owner they serve Trotters Ale, my favourite mildly hallucinogenic gluten free beer. Merv the droid got the recipe off Merv the publican, who brews the ale on site at the Pigs Arms back on Earth.

The crew are rolling in. There’s George our house mate, Michael the publican, Helvi our coordinator, Dave the guitar droid and the Kipper and Jilligan. There are a couple of new crew in the mix. I discover it’s the chief sensor called Warrigal. Warrigal reviews all of the data received by the ship and filterers it digitally so it makes more sense. The other droid is GO, an artist droid that immediately starts sketching a picture of this historic meeting.

“Okay you lot, grab a pint on me” I call, cheers erupt round the room, buying votes? Never crossed my mind. Oh, and yes droids can eat and drink when they want to. “Now I want to name the ship, anyone got any ideas?” I put to the group. “What about Sunev which is Venus backwards” says Dave, “The Van Gough” says GO “What about the Myfanwy” says Michael “Very Welsh” he continues and rubs his groin. The crew keep tossing up ideas. I love brain storming because basically I don’t actually have a brain.

Suddenly Belinda speaks up. Holding her tonic water to her ample bosom she says “Sandy, why don’t we ask the ship what it wants to be called? You see one night I couldn’t sleep as you were snoring so loudly. [Tutu here: Know what I mean girls?] I did some research about the ship. The ship is built by the Arcups and when the WEE is turned on the ship becomes sentient.” Gee I’ve heard some farcical things since I’ve been in space but this takes the cake. Suddenly the room starts to spin “Sandy, Sandy, come back, it’s true, ask Catherine” Belinda calls. Boy, the farce is strong at times.

I talk into the ships intercom “Catherine is what Belinda is telling me true?” “Yes Lord Climate, the ship is sentient” replies Catherine. “Can I talk to it?” I enquire “No, but I can” relates Catherine. “Okay, then ask the ship what it wants to be called?” I request of the central controlling computer. “Okay but this will take a few minutes and you may not like the answer” says Catherine.

Another round is poured as GO completes his sketch. Dave plays a few tunes from Pink Floyd just to break it down. Michael brings out a couple of trays of wedgies. Life’s good ain’t it.

“Lord Climate the answer is er, well, um, you know, sort of, well, Julian” says Catherine. “What Julian! What sort of sprauncy name is that I mean what about something mean and evil?” I state firmly, “I told you you wouldn’t like the answer” Catherine replies “But that is what he wants to be called although it’s not the name his mother gave him”

So there we are, I’m the Chairman of the Bored of the SHITS38B which is now called the S.S. Julian and Gordon bless all that sail on her.