Tag Archives: Beans

8.3 It’s Bean a Flong Time Coming

04 Sunday Apr 2010

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Unbeknown to most, Methane rules the universe

So, here we are, out in deep space. We have left the Milky Way and are on our way to Andromeda, to a planet called Missen. Belinda and I spent last night in the Cruel Room getting acquainted with our destination. For those of you new to The Father O’Way Chronicles, the Cruel Room resides in the Manor. When you sit on the chairs the walls, floors and ceilings disappear and the computer simulates the surrounding space outside the ship so you feel as though you are sitting on the ships hull. At first it’s spooky but you get used to it and it becomes fun.

Our contacts on Missen are Hardy Cocksure and his long time girlfriend Pussy Couscous. Hardy and Pussy run a cricket competition on the island of Flong which is in the southern hemisphere of Missen. Rumour has it that the island is called Flong because it’s long and narrow and the first people to arrive, got off the boat and mumbled “This is a effing long island” hence Flong however another theory has been postulated that Flong is the sound of a partly decomposed bean hitting porcelain.

I call Neville, the navcom, to make sure he knows where he is going “Neville respond” I say authoritatively into the intercom. “Neville here Lord Climate” says Neville. “Neville, do you want a route?” I ask casually. “I beg your pardon” replies an indignant navcom, “Did you say a root?” “Yes Neville, a route” I reply in rather annoyed tone, feeling that this conversation is going nowhere. “Well Sandy, I mean, I hardly know you plus this man on man thing is not really for me”. Oh, for zark sake, has this navcom got the stupid gene or what? “No, not a root as in having sex with, a route as in, you know, directions?” I assert. “Sorry Sandy but I’m blushing at the moment and no I don’t want a ro.., er, directions” Gees, that’s all I need, a navcom that doesn’t have a body who blushes, space, never ceases to amaze.

It will take weeks to get to Missen so Belinda and I head off to the snowfield for a holiday. Jilligan picks us up from the river port in the S.S. Nimmow. GO, the artist droid,  comes along as he wants to paint some pictures of the mountain range and Helvi, well, she’s our body guard. It’s a cold morning in the bio and mist is rising off the river as we head upstream. The river generates the electricity to run the ship so once it starts flowing the ship remains powered indefinitely.

After a scrumptious breakfast on the deck we head inside as we approach one of the tubes. After last time I don’t feel like being knocked unconscious. The tubes are made of a clear material and connect the bios together. The new Nimmow is bigger and more streamlined and seems more powerful. “This seems faster Jilligan, has it got a new motor?” I ask semi-interestedly. “Certainly has” says Jilligan “Come below and I’ll show it to you” Oh shit, why does everyone assume that just because you are a bloke that you will be interested in motors? “This is called the BEAN engine Sandy, beautiful hey?” Well no, only to the mentally challenged, which clearly Jilligan meets the essential criteria and another zarking acronym. Putting on my watching-paint-dry voice I ask the obvious “BEAN Jilligan, what’s that mean?” “Well Sandy” launches Jilligan, just like a little school kid that gets one to many Easter eggs “BEAN stands for Bean Emissions Accelerator Nexus. See you put a 420 can of Heinz Baked Beans in Tomato Sauce in here, then super bugs from the MBL break the beans down, the gas is then connected in a series to the turbine which then blows it out the back passage” grins Jilligan, sort of mocking but not quite. Hmmm, blowing gas out the back passage after digesting beans, somehow I know what the designer was thinking.  “MBL, now hang on we are not letting baseball take over in this book old chum” I state “No Sandy, MBL stands for Mythical Biological Laboratory”. Complex fiction indeed.

8.2 Pigs In Space

28 Sunday Mar 2010

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Warning: This picture has been Warrigalised

Sandy here. Had a strange dream last night. Belinda and I had some curried scallop pies washed down with some creamy apple cider so I think that’s what brought it on. Yes, well, I dreamt I was in a canoe on a lake in Africa with my mate Evil Car Knee Ville. Knee Ville and I were fishing. Anyway we started drinking beer, eating boiled eggs and smoking this strange substance from a pipe. So I cast out and along comes this magnificent looking fish and the fish says “Hey mate, got anything to eat, I’m hungry?” “I’ve got some bait if your interested, fish are supposed to love it” I reply in a casual semi-interested sort of tone. “Hmmm” says the fish “is there a catch, no pun intended?” “Well yes” I reply rather hesitantly  “See I attach the bait to this hook. When you bite it the hook pierces your palate causing terrible pain and suffering. Then we haul you ashore, cut you up into little pieces, pan fry and eat you along with chips and lemon juice and salt.” “I don’t think I like that idea much” says the fish and leaves. “Hey Knee Ville , did you see that fish I almost caught?” “Sandy, that’s the oldest line in the book and by the way that’s Hemingway with one M” says Knee Ville. Then I wake up thinking about baked beans on toast, weird.

Helvi hasn’t been able to establish eye contact with me since my body altered however she is doing her best to help us understand the morphing process that has taken place. The village bio is much bigger as a garrison has been added and so an auto-pilot electric car is needed to get me to the Bats Droppings for a few Trotters, I mean you wouldn’t what to drink and drive would you, I mean that would be really bad and only evil dickheads would do that. The farm bio is now run by Mr and Mrs Douglas with their farm hand Eb. We also have a snowfield/chalet bio for holidays, a tropical island bio for Jilligan, who by the way, lives out there alone now the Kipper was killed. We now also have an outback station bio. The pics on the computer of it look great.

I ring Gordon, you know Gordon O’Donnell the creator of the universe. Gordon currently on Earth in the Pigs Arms drinking Trotters Ale all day every day as he does. “Gordon, Sandy here how the zark are you?” I press knowing it’s always good to get on the front foot with Gordon. “Bloody good mate, it’s all good” answers Gordon in an unusually good Australian accent “Now Sandy old boy” he continues “I believe you hit a POTHOLE, nasty things, will have to get onto the Council, anyway glad you rang mate, want you to head to Missen, the score in the first innings must be between 320 and 350, got that, it MUST be” asserts Gordon. “Gordon how can anyone head to missing?” I ask rather naively knowing I won’t like the answer. “No Missen, it’s a planet that orbits Capricorn in the Andromeda Galaxy, Neville will know the way, it’s only a couple of million light years away. You must get there before the rodent, you know he will zark the whole thing up, you know bribes, kids overboard. This is a very important part of my thesis.”

“On the subject of your thesis Gordon, what is it you are actually studying, I mean it’s not the cricket is it?” I barge in rather hot under the collar. “This is war Sandy” Gordon replies “And war is hell, and hell is beans Sandy, baked beans on toast. Forget this low glycemic index crap or the high fibre bullshit, this is about beans, baked beans and how they rule life the universe and everything” Gordon voice tapers to a final whisper, a man possessed by some demonic spirit or just really pissed on Trotters Ale, this has become scary stuff. “So why has the score in the first inning got to be between 320 and 350 Gordon?” I wade in foolishly. “Well Sandy, that’s the estimated number of beans in a 420 gram can of course!…..”

8.0 The Return of the Ball

10 Wednesday Mar 2010

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Have another go….

Genital Mischief by Warrigal

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm,nnnnaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh, whiz, bang, bang, tonk, tonk, tonk. “Nanobot 249 to Base, come in base” “Base receiving 249, what’s up?” ”Base this brain is a mess, are you sure the plan is right?” enquires 249. “Apparently this was a fully functional earth being at one stage. We have to repair the creature to the map from the last teleport and that’s what is says” says the Base supervisor “Okay then” says 249 “this earth place must be full of weirdos if this is a functional example, 249 out”.

*******

Zarking hell, what’s going on, last thing I can remember is a blinding bright light, lots of pain then blackness. Must have had one to many Trotter’s Ales. Shit, where the zark am I. It’s getting lighter, gee I’m in some sort of room but I’m in, well, like a clear coffin. I can see a sign on the door it says “Astrophysics 101”. Hmmm, isn’t that what Gordon is studying.

A man in a white lab coat approaches “Hi there” he says “I’m Professor T.D. Schnitzel however just call me TD” “Hi TD, I’ve heard about you from Gordon, where am I? What happened? Where’s Belinda?” I rattle off, confused and angry. “Now, now Sandy, don’t panic, Belinda’s fine. You have been transferred to our dimension and are on the planet Meup. We are reverse engineering your destruction and rebuilding you. It will take a few days. The ICCB Death Ball blew the S.S. Julian up destroying everything so we have to rebuild you. We have ordered you a new ship so when we send you back you’ll be able to go on your merry way, you are a very important to our research project. Your effect on the cricket wars is crucial to the overall project”

So Belinda and I were killed and the crew destroyed. The S.S. Julian gone. It was a great ship with a great crew. My heart sinks “So TD what are you researching, I mean if it’s the meaning to life, there ain’t none” I state rather confidently for some one who only has half a brain and one eye. “No, nothing that straightforward” says TD “We’re trying to figure out why baked beans on toast are a healthy meal option. Anyway in a few days you will be back on your new ship and this will only feel like a dream.”

“So I’m off to the Scientist of the Year dinner tonight. Trouble is I never know what to order” informs TD “How bout schnitzel with chips and salad” I bait “Yes they are coming with me, we’re a very popular choice. I always get anxious though” “What, are you chicken schnitzel?” I probe rather rudely. “No I guess I just have to beef up a bit. Look there is some good news and some bad news.” Gees, I hate conversations like this. “The bad news is we can’t find one of your eyes and your genitals so we’ve replaced them with bionic parts. The good news is we have increased your muscle strength and tightened that tummy of yours” “Hey TD” I ask “How about making it a big bigger, you know psst psst psst” I request rather pathetically “Okay then, is that all you earth men think of?” TD asks rather lamely “Yes every 4 seconds apparently. And look when you rebuild Belinda, what about a bigger front veranda?” TD stared back with a rather blank face. Then the penny dropped “Okay Sandy, I suppose that’s not too much to ask” as he walked away shaking his head.