Category Archives: Mark

7.2 The Kipper Gets Canned

04 Thursday Mar 2010

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The New Chairman

Digital Vader by Warrigal Mirriyuula

The mood on the S.S. Julian is sombre. The Kipper was killed in the fighting with the ICCB troops on Zog. This is our first loss and I’m finding it rather difficult to come to terms with the whole thing. We have just held the funeral service for the Kipper and placed him in a can, just like all good Kippers like to be. Dave does a rendition of Don McLean’s Vincent and Jilligan places the Kipper’s favourite hat on top of the can. We all head to the Bats Droppings to have a few pints or so to mourn the loss of our crew member.

Henry, our navcom, informs me that we are being followed by an ICCB ship however it’s not a warship “Blow the zarking thing up” I call through the intercom. “Lord Climate, an ICCB representative wishes to beam aboard, it’s a Lord Algernon, the ICCB’s Business Relationships Manager” says Henry “Tell him to zark off, anyway what business to we have with those dickheads?” I reply in a rather frustrated tone. I’m tired, the gun battle was hard going however what was worse was I had to listen to some Beatles music, yyyyeeeeuck. It was good though watching those ICCB troops running for the hills trying to get there headsets off.

“Sandy” says Michael in his usual Welsh sing-song way “Why don’t we at least listen to what he has to say, could be entertaining.” “Okay then Henry, let him come in, turn the defence shield off and no weapons” I state firmly into the intercom.

We meet in the middle of the green, on top of the wicket actually. “Lord Climate” the creature says “Salutations.” “I know you, you went to school with me at Inner Cyberia, it’s T..” I assert. “Yes it’s me Sandy” interjects Lord Algernon “I no longer go by that name. Yes we had fun didn’t we. The test match in the park every weekend, Glenda coming in off her long run and scaring the shit out of everyone. Remember when Emmjay stood up to Big Willie, boy, he was brave, I mean Big Willie was mean. Went on to become a Hells Angle I believe.” Yes, those were the days, when cricket was fun unlike now, now I’m caught up in an intergalactic cricket war.

“Now I’m sure you didn’t come here to discuss the good old days Lord Algernon, what is it exactly that you want?” I press. “Well, you’ve racked up quite an account with us, a death ball, a dozen or so destroyers and around a million staff dead, yes quite a bill” announces Lord Algernon. “Look mate, I’m on a mission from GOD, I didn’t ask to be drawn into any war and if that stupid Death Ball hadn’t caught us in that detractor beam none of this would have happened.” I reply rather assertively. “GOD you say?” queries Lord Algernon, “Yes, Gordon O’Donnell, the creator of the universe, sent me out into space to report on cricket games.” “You’re working for Gordon?” chokes Lord Algernon “Gee wish I had known that.” Lord Algernon pulls out his phone and makes a call. “Great Sandy” he says “Gordon has said send him the bill care of the Pigs Arms and we are to leave you alone” then vanishes.

Just as Lord Algernon vanished the Death Ball opened fire with its Annihilation Rendered Series Energiser ray destroying the S.S. Julian and all on board. Puts new meaning into the phrase ‘Blow in out your arse’. In fact the strike was so powerful that a cloud of atoms rose into the sky for half a light year. The ruse had worked, the fake call to Gordon was the signal for the Death Ball to fire in one minute.

On the planet Arcup a ripple in the space fabric was felt as they had lost one of their own. On Earth, in the Pigs Arms, everyone stopped momentarily and Astyages looked up into the heavens and muttered “Something bad has happened in the cosmos tonight”

7.1 The End of Zog, Part 2

23 Tuesday Feb 2010

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Here we see the Nimmow III, proud successor to our flagship, which just happened to be in the area on patrol and witnessed the Death of Zog

Warrigal assured me this really happened.

Worms and Music by Hung One On

We’re heading for the teleport station as fast as we can go. The Zogarian officials herd us into an isolated cabin on the perimeter, probably they don’t want to see us get killed by the ICCB. See, Zog has an unsteady relationship with the ICCB, they pay their fees but that’s about it.

“We fight to the death and die heroes” says Helvi. “Helvi, can you cut the die bit, you know I’m a born coward” I reply meekly. “But Sandy, unless the defrag finishes soon the only thing we can do is fight” grins Helvi as she breaks out the laser cannons. “Yeah, let’s fight” says Belinda. Belinda has that look in her eye that says ‘Don’t zark with me man’. Wow, these women are scary stuff.

One side of the room has some windows looking out over the fence where our navcom has said that the troops will come from. The crew line out and occupy a window space just like you see in all of those war movies. I try to think of something stupid so I can use the farce to get us outta here but my mind is blank. I’m so scarred that I wanna shit myself.

Suddenly there is a big bang and all of the windows explode and we are all knocked to the ground. My ears are ringing and I throw up. That lobster salad I had for lunch with the cricket coaches tastes different on the way out I can tell ya.

Warrigal says “That’s the sonic boom they send in just to unsettle you, won’t kill you though, the troops like to do that personally.” Gee, thanks Dingo, I think to myself. We open fire as the troops approach and as usual Helvi is taking them out left right and centre. The fire fight escalates and chaos reigns around us.

Dave the guitar droid comes over to me “Sandy, I found a TIME machine, come and have a look.” Dave and I crawl over to the corner of the room on our hands and knees. “So we can travel in time Dave?” I ask naively. “No, not until the next book Sandy. See this is a Temporal Intermittent Music Emitter. You plug in music here and it will transmit it into the headsets that the ICCB troops wear. So you plug in something really awful and the troops will run for it. Only catch is, someone needs to take out the Field Unit Control Kapsule.” Acronyms, they will be the death of me.

Helvi bursts out the door firing laser cannons from each hand and races up to the ridge. Hey, there’s always a ridge in war movies. The crew are backing her with continuous rounds of fire. Helvi uses a rocket launcher from behind the ridge and as usual hits the Kapsule first shot. I sing out to Dave “Put on the Beatles, She Loves You that would scare the shit out of anyone.” Immediately the troops start wrestling with their headsets and start running away.

Michael grabs my arm “Sandy come quick, the Kipper’s been hit” I race over to the Kipper who has a large wound to his chest and is lying on the ground. “Don’t worry Kipper” I reassure “We’ll take back to the regen station” “Sorry Sandy, I can no longer be regenerated I’m finished” the Kipper relates as he struggles in immense pain. “But Kipper” I blurt nervously “You are part of the story. I mean I need to take the mickey out of a 60’s American sit-com.” “Well” suggests the Kipper “How about Petticoat Junction or Greenacres perhaps?” The Kipper stops moving. Jilligan closes the Kippers eyes. I cry, zark, this wasn’t supposed to happened, what would Mr Douglas do I wonder.

My phone rings, its Henry the navcom, “Hi guys defrags finished, beam on up”

[Authors Note: The End of Zog you ask? If we time travel into the future of Zog we find that the cricket teams start sledging each other which leads to conflicts of their culture. These conflicts lead to skirmishes then onto wars. Each regional cricket council tries to annihilate the other until one dark day a scientist arises called Say Tin. Say Tin is an evil nasty little creature with an attitude problem. Say Tin invents a bomb that kills everything on the plant, hence the end of Zog. Scary but true, well sort of.]

7.1 The End of Zog

16 Tuesday Feb 2010

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Sandy and Belinda’s Wedding Cake

Digital Matrimony by Warrigal

We are currently on Zog staying with our host Ziggy McGurk, no relation. Zogarian culture is very advanced compared to Earth. See on Zog there are no nations, its just one nation, sorry Pauline. There hasn’t been a war for over 100,000 years. As there are no wars the Zogarians got on with solving all of the problems like poverty, homelessness and disease. Zog has been a member of the space community for about 5,000 years and are experienced in space exploration and most importantly welcoming aliens. When you land you are scanned for disease and cured so no more methicillin resistant staph. aureus for me. You know it on Earth as the super bug MRSA that infects every hospital on the planet.

The problem on Zog that I have been sent to fix is that Zogarians are so dammed polite no one seems to be able to win a cricket game. Oh yes, the Zogarians are cricket fanatics. Some of the crew have come down as well to watch a few plays and go to the cricket. Ziggy has arranged for me to meet the cricket coaches so that I can teach them how to sledge an opponent Aussie style so that the teams can start to win.

I’m taken to a meeting venue at the Grand Arena, the HQ for Zogarian cricket. The room holds about 200 people and it’s packed. I’m shitting myself but this is what Gordon O’Donnell, the creator of the universe, wants me to do. “Now listen up. The players are too polite” I lead off “So you have got to get the fielding side to get into the head of the batsmen. This upsets them and throws them off there game.” I inform. “So if a batsman comes out who’s a bit overweight the bowler has to yell out ‘Hey fatso, can you move over a bit I can’t see the stumps?’” I declare. Around the room gasps and cries are rising up. “That’s cheating” one coach says “Well mate, that’s how the Aussie’s have been winning games for years and we’re the best on our planet. Anyway there is nothing in the rules to prevent it.” I state rather sternly, not like me at all.

To balance it up I lunge on “So now the batman has to say ‘Mate the reason I’m so fat is that every time I make love to your wife she gives me a biscuit’”. Faces turn to horror and cries ring out around the room. “Out with this cad” cries one man. “Get rid of this scoundrel” says another. “Look I understand you don’t like it but you do want to win don’t you?” I ask. The room quietens down. Yes, I’ve hit a nerve. They obviously want to win but it seems it’s against their culture.

“So Father, do you have any others?” asks a man at the front. “Well, yes, a few. But look here’s the rules. Pick on their appearance, their parents and their batting and bowling technique. At the end of the game always shake hands and have a few beers and tell them you were only joking” I deflate knowing how pathetic this really is.

Just as I finish my phone rings “Lord Climate, its Henry here. Look Father there’s some good news and some bad news.” Don’t you just hate these types of conversations?  “Okay then, please don’t give me a choice, just tell me what’s up” I say rather forlornly. “Well” says Henry “The good news is that the ships drive is being defragged so it will perform better.” Nice one Henry I think to myself. “The bad news is that while this is in progress the teleport transponder won’t work and we’ve just detected 500 ICCB troops closing in on your position” says Henry.

6.1 The Chairman of the Bored

07 Sunday Feb 2010

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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.

5.3 The Great Escape Part 2 – The Great Batsman

02 Tuesday Feb 2010

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The image that was previously here was apparently based on an image claimed by Kenny Hyder of Chicago.

We offer our sincere apologies for this oversight

So, we are about to be zarking blown into kingdom come as the ICCB has us surrounded as we orbit Mars. “War cabinet” I cry into the ships intercom “Catherine, over to the control room, on the double” I demand of the central computer. “C’mon Belinda, honey, lets go, I ain’t dying and neither are you “.

Belinda and I cross the green. I note that Dave the guitar droid is playing “Sweet Surrender” by Tim Buckley from the pub balcony, not on your Nellie I think to myself. Boy, I’ve changed since I’ve been in space, become a rebel, a space Lord, blown up star ships and fallen in love, I might just write a book about this one day.

The Helvi-tastic meets us halfway to the control room. “Lord Climate” she says “Count me in, let’s fight”. Now after the fight with Lord Deaf Vision and his guards on the Death Ball that statement scares the zark out of me. “Okay, c’mon Helvi, war cabinet in the control room, we don’t have long” I reply in a half committed tone. “We kill and die heroes Sandy, lets go” states Helvi. Now I’m really scared.

Catherine enters the control room in her ship mode as a cat. Gee if only I had a shotgun handy, anyway, Catherine has calmed down now I reprogrammed her. Turned out to be not too hard. Da Catherine Code I called it and went something like this,

Procedure Global  Keep_Calm

Define variable sedate, numeric

Set sedate: = 0

If Full_Blown_Arc_Up >= 3 then

Full_Blown_Arc_Up:= sedate

Else

Set sedate:= 0

Endif

If High_Level_PMT >= 3 then

High_Level_PMT:= sedate

Else

Set sedate:= 0

Endif

Exit

End procedure

“Okay” I start “Anyone got any ideas. I’m not gonna get killed and neither is anyone else” With that the crew roar “Aye”. Wow this is like the Australian cricket team. “We fight” howls Helvi, another roar goes up. “We die heroes and martyrs” she continues. The room suddenly goes silent.

“Well we could surrender. I’ve heard that they send you to a prison moon called Penal Erectus to live out the rest of your days” chips in Henry, the navcom.  “Penal Erectus, sounds promising” quips Belinda “But anyway we are not giving up”.

“I know, why don’t I ring Gordon. He’ll tell us what to do?” I blurt nervously. “No Sandy” Belinda pleads “Lets get ourselves out of this mess we’ve got ourselves into”. I look over at Belinda, she has that unmistaken look of determination on her beautiful face and it instantly fills me full of pride and courage. “Anyone for a drink?” I question. “No” says Henry, “You’ll upset Jayell.”

“Now, now everyone” a rather calm and sedate Catherine states reassuringly “Lets not get too carried away” Gee I think I’ll have to set the parameters higher in that piece of code, she’s become too laid back. “You could always push that button over there and run for it” Catherine purrs rather laconically. “What button is that?” I query. “That one over there, on the second computer bank” Catherine informs.

I walk over to the computer terminal. It has a button on the left that says “If you want to make the ship invisible push this button”. Oh for zark sake, this is just farcical. I push the button, “Henry, run for it” and with that cry the ship accelerates vertically at high speed. We all hit the ground. Incredibly the ICCB opened fire just at that moment however we were gone and as they had us surrounded every missile fired hit another ICCB ship and were all destroyed. Amazing but true, well sort of.

5.3 The Great Escape, Part 1.

26 Tuesday Jan 2010

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Mars Pitch – Digital Colour from Warrigal

Well, after a night on Earth and a big piss up at the Pig’s Arms with the gang, I’ve really hung one on. My head hurts and feels like I’ve got a meat cleaver wedged in my brain. Anyway back on the spaceship we are headed for Zog, no not where Zig and Zag come from or anything to do with maths. Zog is a planet a long way from Earth and those ICCB cronies however Zogarins love cricket and Gordon wants me to review the progress of cricket on Zog. Zog orbits a star we call Meissa, “The Shining One” and is found in Orion. It’s quite a few kilometres away but in light years around 640 or thereabouts. The problem on Zog is that everyone is too friendly and Gordon thinks that they need a bit of Australian mongrel in them so he is sending me, the Good Father, to teach them to sledge.

As we are manoeuvring out of the solar system Henry, the navcom, calls us to the control room to view a picture taken by the ships sensors of Mars. You can see it above, so Belinda and I don our space suits and board the S.S. Nimmow with Jilligan and the Kipper to go and take a look. Now one thing that’s hard to get used to is talking to the crew from a space suit especially when they don’t wear one as they don’t breathe, man, it’s spooky.

We go up the stairs in the middle of the arena and enter the change rooms. Amazing, the walls are covered with posters from the sponsors. “The One Wipe Toilet Paper Company, proud sponsor of the Syrtis Major Cricket Club, remember you only need one wipe with One Wipe”, fantastic, can’t wait to tell the gang back at the Pig’s Arms about this one.  The next poster “Mao the chair man, for all your chair needs, call Mao the chair man on 117059322, sponsor of the Arabia Terra Wanderers”. I wonder, nah, couldn’t be.

In the next area is the Umpires Room and has a saying written on the door “If in doubt, it’s not out”. Obviously they couldn’t get leg before right either. On one of the walls is a notice board that has a memo pinned on it. It says “Calling all umpires. Now is the time to join our new society to protect your rights and income. Join the Cricket Umpires New Technologic Society” and then in brackets the acronym which I won’t post here as it makes a very rude word on Earth and there may be some kiddies reading.

We head on through the museum with pictures of little green men holding bats and wearing pads. So it was true, Mars did have little green men. One of the pictures has been attacked by a graffiti artist. Someone called “Phoenix” has drawn a circle out of the mouth of one of the players and written “Take me to your leader”. Shit, they have even spoilt the place way out here.

The intercom goes off. “Sandy, er, I mean Lord Climate D’Change. You better come back. The ICCB are beaming in a hologram”. We return to the ship and go to the Cruel Room. Belinda and I take up our seats. “Greeting Earthlings” the creature says, “My name is ToeKnee Egg, Vice President of the ICCB. We have you completely surrounded, 2 slips, a leg slip, silly mid on and short cover. I have bet my colleague Bul 5000 G.U.’s that you’ll try and make a run for it down to deep fine leg. Now that’s 5 grand I don’t mind losing to my pigeon fancying friend however if you what to surrender do so in the next hour. It would be appreciated as I have dinner to go to with my good friend Perry Kacker.”

5.2 The Umpire Raises the Ginger Part 2

14 Thursday Jan 2010

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OK, I know it’s a typo in the heading but it worked for me…

Australian coach receiving the O’Way Game advantage

I’m in Hobart an about to talk to the Aussie cricket team, you know, rev ‘em up, for the next game. The Bish has pulled some strings so I can get into the change rooms. I’ve been given some notes as to what to say as I haven’t got a clue about motivation or how to motivate others. Unfortunately as I walk in I trip and drop all the notes and when I pick them up they seem a bit messed up. In the change room I see their faces but only recognize one, the vitamin salesman, Dicky something. Always on TV telling me that the vitamins are clinically proven but then fails to say what they are clinically proven for. What he also leaves out is that a ham salad sandwich will supply you with about the same level of ingredients found in those expensive little pills.

Anyway I start “Who’s Thorn?” I ask. Dicky speaks up “There’s no thorn in our side Father” he replies diligently. “Well is says here Thorn needs to lift his game.” Just then an official approaches and reads my notes. He speaks softly so the others can’t hear “Er, um, Father, the letters must have scrambled when you dropped your notes, it’s North”. “Well” I continue “North your forms gone south so we need you to show us what you have got. The team and all the fans are behind you, we know you can do it.” The room erupts with a roar, wow, these guys are really into it.

“Now kick long to someone in a better position than you and tackle hard” I boast informatively. “But Father this is a cricket team we don’t kick or tackle” states Dicky. “Oh, well, get behind the service line and hit deep, only rush the net when you have set your opponent up” I say. “But Father that’s tennis. We’re cricketers” Dicky bemoans. “Oh, okay then hit the ball long, hit the ball high, hit the ball over the fence unless it’s still six and out” to which the team responds with a almighty cry “And finally” I add “Sledge the crap out of them” to which the team raises me up on there collective shoulders singing “Australians all let us rejoice…….”

*****************

5.2 The Umpire Raises the Finger

11 Monday Jan 2010

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The Dresden Ashes Test of February 1945 has gone down in cricketing history as one of the most hard fought battles in the game. Whatever the Nazi First XI was playing, it just wasn’t cricket. The Allied First XI, having comprehensively lost the first innings, came back to claim a glorious victory in Dresden which set the tone for the rest of that winning season. As you can see the Allies really knew about ashes.

A little bit of mischief by Warrigal; a lot of mischief by the Allied bomber command.

We are heading back to Earth as Gordon has phoned and wants me to give a motivational talk to the Aussie cricket team before the next test. Gordon tells me that they are calling the last win “The MacKillop Test” as a miracle was performed at the SCG so Mother Mary must have done something to get them across the line. Before we leave the Cricketmanistanis leave for Althus 5 to help populate the planet, eleven wives each, but someone’s gotta do it, poor bastards.

On the way back we will be calling in on a planet, well a habitable moon, called Beephard. The Beephardians are famous for there inventions such as the Galactic Telecommunications System which over came all of the obstacles and delays in communicating with spaceships.  I don’t fully understand the science but apparently there are points in space where relay stations are placed and are held in position by opposing gravitational forces. These relays use dark matter somehow so that every message sent is instantly relayed around the galaxy to the intended recipient. Complex fiction at its best. [Authors note: Tongue firmly planted]

The Beephardians love cricket but as there world is so small they only have one main oval. The Beephardians got there name because they go so hard at everything and when they are caught in traffic jams they beep their horns incorrectly thinking that this will somehow magically resolve the obstacle so they can get on with it.

The weather in the bio is perfect at the moment. Belinda and I have our breakfast outside in the courtyard. I see Belinda is reading yet another book. “What are you reading my sweet?” I ask. “It’s a detective story called Foodge about a copper who doesn’t know he’s dead and a private detective who has a penchant for hats and blondes” replies Belinda. Hmmm, sounds different. “Who’s the author?” I push. “I think it’s a guy called E M Jay” Belinda informs. “Never heard of him, anyway I’m off to talk to Henry” I announce. Henry is our navcom and I’m eager to get home and away from any of those T shaped IUD’s that are conceivably floating around trying to prevent me from achieving something.

“Sandy” Henry says sheepishly “Don’t you think that now you are a rebel leader you need some form of name that is fierce and causes fear in the hearts of all comers? I mean Sandy is a bit of a soft on sort of name” Henry bequests. “What like Axelrod the Marauder or something? “ I proffer. “Well sort of” says Henry “but I had something more confrontational in mind like Lord Climate D’Change. It combines science with authority and provokes robust community debate. If unleashed it could give you the drum. What do you think Sandy?”. “Do I get to wear a hat, medals and braids?” I joke. “If you like” says Henry.

We approach Beephard and Belinda and I get ready to teleport to the surface. Henry calls on the intercom “Sandy, something’s wrong, our usual contact is not answering. Atmosphere is normal and grav is 0.9. I smell trouble.” “Henry, you’re a computer for zark sake how can you smell anything?” I assert “Anything is possible is space Sandy er um Lord Climate” says Henry. “Oh for zark sake my name’s Sandy” I half volley.

Belinda and I beam to the surface. We are confronted with devastation. A small group of people are milling around the square that has a cricket pitch on it. The buildings are in ruins and looks like they have been recently bombed. The scoreboard is showing none for 105 so a game must have been going on prior to the bombing. We approach an old man who appears to be mortally wounded. “Old man, old man, what in blazes happened?” “The ICCB. Hadn’t paid our fees for this game, bombed the crap out of us but look who cares are you any good at bowling? We need some wickets.”

5.1 The Run Chase Begins

09 Saturday Jan 2010

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Darlek First 11

Deestroygital By De Warrigal

We are currently on Althus 5 a planet that circles Merak a star in Ursa Major about 80 light years from Earth. It’s great to be on a planet after all that time in space.  Althus 5 is a big planet with very few people. You see children are hard to have and women out number men by 10 to 1. The thing is that the men aren’t all that interested in sex and only do it at Christmas or birthdays and even then only if everything is in alignment with the Gods or should I say the God, Gordas. Gordas is the one god, the true god. I am the light, the truth and the way Gordas would say. Now you and I know that Gordas is really Gordon O’Donnell, the astrophysicist from another dimension but never let the truth get in the road of a good story.

Anyway Belinda and I are staying at Andy Smiths place, well actually they call him “Randy” Andy as he has had 3 children from 8 wives over 10 years. Randy’s two head wives, Zig and Zag,  take Belinda to the cricket as on Althus 5 generally only women go to the games and only women play cricket. If men go they are treated like sex symbols and are constantly taunted and many have numerous sexual propositions put to them like “Nice buns honey, is that a gun in your pocket, wanna come home with me baby for a good time” and other rude suggestions.

I get to go out with the “boys” to have my nails done, a hair appointment then coffee and croissants then off to a bloke flick staring Grew Hant. As I am walking down the street with the “boys” I suddenly realise how good cricket is. I mean I can take a few taunts and the idea of seeing a Grew Hant movie is turning my stomach over. I make a feeble excuse like “I’ve got a headache” and jump a cab to the ground.

After a few wolf whistles, a couple of pinches on the bum and some business cards stuffed in my G King undies I join the girls in the stand. “So you came after all Sandy?” says Zig suggestively. “Oh yes, love my cricket” I lie brilliantly, “Silly mid on in already?” I announce informatively to which the girls laugh, “No” says Zag “this is the pre game entertainment” causing all around to know that I am the Sergeant Schultz of cricket and that ‘I know nuthink’.

Just as the boredom of a whole day at the cricket smacks me in the face my phone rings. Saved by the bell, for zark sake. . It’s Catherine the central computer “Sandy we’ve got company, you and young Bel better get back fast”. As disappearing in public is against space protocol we go around to the back of the grandstand and insert a finger in our mouths. See when you get a SPIT, Small Personal Interplanetary Teleporter, in goes into your mouth on the inside of the cheek. The SPIT reads you as a list of particles, decodes you then transports you to the responder and reassembles you instantly.  This is a great and complex piece of fiction.

We enter Henry’s room. Henry is the navigational computer. “Sandy, a message is coming in as a hologram from the Captain of the ICCB destroyer Enterprise Bargaining” Henry relates rather nervously.

The hologram appears. Yuk. It’s some form of mental man with a laser cannon sticking out of his head and a cricket bat in his hand “Salutations, My name is Captain Ion Chappell of the ICCB first XI,  please be prepared to die, your ship is about to be  blown to smithereens and I want to watch it burn, eradicate, eradicate…..”

I can hear voices in my head, its Dad, he’s calling me “Use the farce Luke, er, um, oops, sorry, Sandy, use the farce”. “I think you will find that it’s exterminate, exterminate” I say stupidly and with that the farce takes the 38B into a deep spiral exit manoeuvre and out to the other side of the star. Using the forces of the star and being hidden it then closes in on the rear of the destroyer. Belinda pipes in “Fire when ready I think the saying is” with which a laser cannon fires hitting the IUD and blowing it out of the sky, if there was one. Gee, some things is space just never cease to amaze me.

4.4 Epilogue – The End of the First Innings

06 Wednesday Jan 2010

Posted by in Mark

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When the ICCB colonised Waterworld the indigenous inhabitants were rounded up and forced to work in floating ball manufacturies. Life was brutal and often short and revolution was continually being fomented.

Digital Ballistics by Warrigal

This is a Press Release put out by the Intergalactic Cricket Control Board (ICCB) from the president Sunil Galvatron.

“It is with much regret that I inform you that the ICCB Death Ball was attacked and destroyed at 1000 hours Central Galactic Time (CGT) by rebel forces led by a renegade priest who calls himself Father O’Way.

It further saddens me to inform you that in the fighting the Death Ball returned fire at the rebels and accidentally struck the Planet Joon, which just happened to floating by, destroying it and killing all 200 million residents. The ICCB regrets incidents like this and boy, we hate it when that happens.

The Death Ball and all those that sailed on her were killed in the exchange totalling 500,000 troops and our Commander in Chief, Lord Deaf Vision. Consequently we are advertising in Saturdays press for a new Commander in Chief so any of you evil Lord’s our there who are interested in the job, please submit your CV with two referees and anyone who can pass the police clearance need not apply.

As Death Balls are very expensive all fees have been increased to meet the cost of a new one. So juniors will have to pay 50 Galactic Units (GU’s) more per game and Under 16’s up to first grade will pay an extra 100 GU’s. Now don’t forget report to the coach on the dot at 1000 hours, wear plenty of blockout and bring extra water. The Canteen ladies as usual will provide the oranges.

To the rebels the Cricket Wars have begun and I have dispatched several Intergalactic Universal Destroyers (IUD’s) to exterminate, exterminate, oops sorry, resolve the conflict with you by communication and negotiation and if necessary extreme violence”

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Michael has taken Helvi to the repair shop so she can get a new arm put on after the other one was blown off in the fighting on the death ball. It’s a beautiful sunny day in the bio and I haven’t let Belinda out of my sight since returning. Without her I would be devastated and anyway Hung would have to invent a new girlfriend for me.

George has made a picnic hamper for us of stuffed vine leaves, olives, pita bread and freshly baked spanokopitas plus baklava for desert. George has also packed us a bottle of cold Verdelho. George has style I must admit.

Belinda and I head down to the river. Dave the guitar droid is sitting on the upper balcony of the Bats Droppings and is singing Van Morrisons Have I told you lately that I love you. It doesn’t get any better than this I thought to myself but there is something I have to thrash out with Belinda.

We pop the basket on the bench and I pour us some wine. “Belinda” I start “There is something I need to know.” She turns and looks intently in my direction with that beautiful radiant smile. “What is it Sandy?” she prompts.  I gulp nervously “Well, you know how I have been mirroring a certain story and in that certain story you turn out to be my sister and that you know we have been doing the wild thing for months now, please tell me you not my sister?”

Belinda starts laughing and is now to the point where it has become uncontrollable. Tears are running down her cheeks into her stunning cleavage and her ample bosom. “Oh Sandy, now firstly you have stopped mirroring that story and secondly no I’m not your sister. Remember I’m Glenda’s little sister and Hung introduced me into the story so he could do that gag about the soggy sombrero.”

Thank Gordon for that. I mean seeing that Lord Vision turned out to be Dad one just never knows. “Belinda, I love you, you know that don’t you?” I proffer nervously, I mean I’m a parish priest for zark sake, what do I know about love and women. “And I love you Sandy” Belinda replies and with that we eat our delightful meal taking in the river scene as the music meanders through the air and the sun warms our faces. Yes, something special has happened. Life will never be the same again. Just as that thought passed through my brain George comes racing across the green “Sandy, Miss Belinda, you need to read this” George proclaims “What is it George” I ask knowing I won’t like the answer “It’s a press release from the ICCB….

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