Tag Archives: science fiction

9.1 Belinda got a gun, Belinda’s having fun

07 Monday Jun 2010

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The boys have landed on a deserted ICCB planet to get a little practice in before the main game against the Deathball

Pics by Warrigal

Belinda here. Helvi and I have taken the S.S. Julian II out into space while Sandy is having rehabilitation after hitting, well head butting, the winning runs in the one day final on Missen for the Male Nurses United. Our enemy, Lord John “The Rat” Howard had threatened to take military action against the Flongians so we decided to lure him away. We left behind 500 elite Helvi trained troops to protect Sandy just in case, at the advice of our garrison commander Al, Al Foyle. Al’s sort of spooky, he has these deep blue eyes, just like Sandy when he hasn’t been on the shiraz, and he doesn’t say much but seems to able to figure things out brilliantly.

The Julian has the fire power to match the Rats death ball. The big problem is the Death Ball’s defence shield which, like ours, protects the ship from space debris to laser cannon fire. Helvi and I call a meeting with Al, GO, Catherine and Warrigal. “Okay everyone” I start “anyone got any ideas on how we are going to get them to turn off the defence shield?” “How about we tell them I want to paint it?” says GO as he writes the words ‘cark it’ on a piece of paper and ponders off into the distance. “I know” says Warrigal “why don’t we just ask them to turn it off for a bit” Hmm, We are getting no where fast and without any farcical powers I can see I’m going to need a piece of complex fiction to solve this quandary. Al just sits and smiles however Catherine pipes in “I have an idea, lets ask Julian, he will know being a ship himself?” “Great idea “ says Helvi “And tell him we will fight and die heroes and martyrs” Do you get the idea Helvi has a death wish?

So as usual it takes a while for Catherine to get the answer back from Julian so we head for the pub. Dave the guitar droid is playing some Bill Withers and Michael the publican is doing a crossword. “Tonic water thanks Michael” as I settle in my chair. Of course all the guys get pints of Trotters, terrible stuff, makes you a bit trippy. I’m listening to the music when Catherine strolls in, in her cat mode and jumps up on the bar. “Well Julian has a solution” Catherine informs “See Howard is a cricket freak so Julian says to send the two cricket droids we picked up in the last junk sale, you know, Mark War and Shame Worn”. The bar goes deadly quiet, this is complex fiction at its best. “So I call Howard and tell him the droids want to come over for a chat and present him with the ball that took Mike Gatting’s wicket that went on to be called the ball of the century”. Yes I remember Sandy raving on forever and a day about that ball “But Catherine how will that get rid of Howard?” I ask. “Well” replies Catherine “in the Mark War droid will be a B.O.M.B.” An acronym, lucky Sandy’s not here “An acronym Catherine?” “No not an acronym young Bel, a real bomb, a WaughHead.”

9.0 Rehab a la Sandy

20 Thursday May 2010

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Warrigalised Pig

I open my eyes. Hmmm, where am I? I don’t seem to able to move and I don’t recognise the room. Gees, I must of hung one on last night and have CRAFT Disease at the moment. C’mon, I don’t need to explain that one do I? Okay then, its you Can’t Remember A F*#@king Thing, c’mon guys you know I hate swearing.

Someone approaches, it’s Big M “Hi Sandy” he says “you hero, winning the game for us. Man, the party at the club was wicked, what a shame you missed it,  pity you almost died and ended up here in a regen-o-bubble in the local stute. Yeah, Sandy, you’ve got the best man, IV line, poovac and uripack, mate we’ll have you back to best before you can say, er, um, I mean, um Jack, oh well whoever” Big M informs. “Seems pretty self sufficient” I mumble as I look around at the bubble, “but don’t the nurses do all that?” I ask, “Nah” replies Big M “we just hang around the nurses station and look busy, it’s a bludge man”.

“Where’s Belinda?” I ask. “Well, it’s a long story but she’s out in space at the moment with Helvi” relates Big M “fighting the rat Lord Howard”. Oh, Belinda, what are you doing girl? “Get me outta here Big M?” I ask rather forlornly. “Sandy, you ain’t going nowhere at the moment, you still need another couple of months. Now go back to sleep and when you wake Belinda will be back and all will be well”

I’m having this weird dream. I’m walking down the street when a woman approaches and is thrusting out some eggs. “Deedee” she says “Deedee, deedee”. So I pull out my gun fire a shot into the air and say “Gees, in all the excitement I can’t remember how many shots I have fired. I mean this is a .44 magnum, the most powerful hand gun in the world, I could blow you head off with one shot punk”. The woman replies “well you have only fired one so in theory you should have five left” I thank her and take aim. I’m about to pull the trigger when I wake up. Darn, don’t you hate that, just as you get to the good bit.

Warrigal is sitting on a chair in the room reading a magazine. Knowing Warrigal it’s bound to be a scientific journal of some kind that will explain all the wonders of the universe. “Hey Warrigal, what cha reading?” I ask “The spring edition of Big and Bouncy Sandy” Warrigal replies refusing to move his eyes off the page, hmm, must be something about big objects.

Big M and a woman approach “Sandy, this is Dr. Voice, she is a NERD” Now I have been in space long enough to know what’s coming but my head is hurting so much I fall into line hopelessly “A nerd Big?” I reply. “Yes Dr Voice is a NERD, a Neurological Emergency Response Doctor and she will operate on you.” “Yes Father, I have had your brain scanned only to find that there’s not much there and the tiny little bit you do have needs help if it’s to be saved” informs Dr. Voice. Acronyms, everywhere acronyms. “Well Dr. Voice, do your worst” I reply trying to hide my nervousness “Yes Father, I am sure that I will” says Dr. Voice with a very strange expression on her face. “Oh Sandy” says Big M as the needle goes into my hand “Helvi left this message for you when her and Belinda when back into space, she said don’t worry they will fight and die heroes and martyrs” just as the anaesthetic is administered…..

8.1 Sandy Gets a New Body

16 Tuesday Mar 2010

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TD Schnitzel’s work on rebuilding Sandy was a huge success and for the first few days it was all Sandy could do to tear himself away from the mirror. Belinda loved his new pectorals and thought the tat was sweet. When resting her head on Sandy’s ample new chest she imagined her fairy whispering in her ear.

Digital Muscles – Warrigal raises the Bar – Bel

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.” “No not today, ain’t in the mood. Henry tell him to zark off and put the peddle to the metal and get the zark out of here” I state firmly into the intercom.

Suddenly the walls start to melt and the room seems to spin. Wow, this Trotter’s is strong stuff. Belinda and Helvi are sitting at the table, no the roof, no outside, no at the table, what is zarking going on? Just as that thought enters my head everything returns to normal, what ever that is. “Catherine” I bark into the intercom “what’s going on?” I demand. Silence. Catherine is the central computer and hasn’t responded something bad is happening. “Henry” I yell to the navcom “what’s going on dude?” More silence. Helvi touches my arm “Sandy I think we’ve hit a POTHOLE” Oh zarking hell, this place is mad. “A pothole Helvi, out here in space” I rant getting more nervous by the minute, “No not that sort of pothole. POTHOLE stands for Potential Other Time History OverLay Episode” A zarking acronym, boy when I get back to earth that Hung One On bloke is gunna get a beating. “Helvi, a what, please explain?” I ask pathetically, mentally drained and tired I wanna go home. “A POTHOLE occurs when an incident happens somewhere in the universe where there is more than one outcome. So something to do with Lord Algernon has changed. Maybe in another time history you actually met with him, in this one you don’t.”

I feel ill. The ship has changed, everything is bigger and there seem to be more crew. Funny thing is that I seem to be able to see much better like never before. Colours, clarity and at any distance. I glance at Belinda, her bust line is magnificent, bigger, bolder and superb. Something stands to attention in my jocks. I pull my shirt out of my trousers and take a quick look. Cowabunger! It’s huge. What in zark sake is going on? A pothole, did something else really happen, why am I thinking about baked beans on toast, very strange.

“Central computer respond” I ask “Central Computer responding Lord Climate” states the computer. “Why don’t you respond to Catherine?” “There is nothing in my memory banks that recognises that term sir” “Okay then, from now on you are Catherine, a cat loving IT guru with a feisty personality style, understood?” “Reprogramming” says the computer. “Navcom respond” I bark. “Navcom responding Lord Climate” “What is your model number?” I request “Ne.V.ILL.e” Hmmm, n e v i l l e, spells Neville, well sort of “Respond to Neville” I request. “Reprogramming to Neville. What personality would you like Lord Climate?” asks Neville. Well Henry was English so lets have a change “Sassy American with a liking for fishing and jazz” I inform. “Catherine ask the ship its name” “Yes Lord Climate” purrs Catherine.

“Sandy, you look different” says Belinda “You’ve lost your tummy and wow, you’ve got more muscles” Yes and you wait till later tonight to see what else is different “Lord Climate” interrupts Catherine, just when I was getting to the good bit, “The ship is called the S.S. Julian II……”

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.”

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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