Captain Lacey And The Borbanx Space Crew
I left my sense of humour on the NBF.
How about this for a joke? What do a brick and a cat have in common? They both have tails. Except the brick. Hahahahahahahah!
Chapter One: Right Slap Bang In The Middle Of Things
Chapter Two: The information was lost on the NBF
I yawned, stretched my arms and half fell, half stepped out of my bed. I hate waking up in the morning and going to school, but it has to be done. School? Why did I think that? I passed a mirror hanging on the hall wall as I neared the stairs and glanced briefly at it. I can smell coffee and croissants lingering in the air, and it’s luring me downstairs. I can hear the familiar clatter of my mother, the sound of pottery clashing with cutlery. This is what morning is like in my house, and I love it. Wait… I went back to the mirror and took a full look at my face.
ARGH! Spots! Unshaven, whispery facial hair! Puppy fat! Pore marks! Unplucked eyebrows! Oh god, what is happening? I’ve really let myself go! I get closer to the mirror. My eyelashes are not long and thick, my usual soft, brown hair is messed up… it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase: “Bed Hair.” I stepped away from the mirror and looked at my full body. I was expecting to see perfect, flawless, pale skin that shone with healthiness, soft but noticeable muscles that made my body look so right, legs that were toned and moisturised, not too hairy to be unattractive, but enough to make me look a man. This was not I, staring in the mirror! I was an attractive, worshiped man hidden inside an alien body!
I prodded myself and checked myself over to be sure it wasn’t a trick. Everything resembled a fifteen-year-old body. It wouldn’t have been so bad, had my package not been so small! Ladies will never look twice at me! I am disgusting and foul. I spat at the mirror and wanted to cry.
The worst years of my life came flooding back to me, and I had to sit on the floor to steady myself- my legs pressed up against my chest, hugging my body to stop myself from shaking. Oh God, I realise my mistake! I took my position for granted, being captain of a travelling ship was just a dream. I had woken up in the same body I thought I left behind. This is my worst nightmare, and my Lord I am pathetic.
After a while of moping I pushed myself to my feet and slumped down the stairs, filled with such utter depression I had to forcibly stop the tears. I heard the post box fill with letters as I passed it, and thought dully back to my dream. I didn’t worry about the post in my dream; I always had good mail that came to my house, no threatening letters from people that hate me, no anthrax... I sighed as I took it out to glance upon the names. I vaguely remember the time before we could afford the Shooter Deluxe Edition of mailbox, which just teleported the mail from the centre office in London.
“Lacey… Lacey?” A panicked voice cut across my edge of utter depression, and I poked my puppy fat idly.
“Coming mother…” I slumped into the kitchen and sat down on the table.
There was no one there; the kitchen was so empty, the counters gleaming and new, no smell of breakfast and morning hovered in the air. I looked around for any sight of life, but there was nothing; just another day in the Jesse Lacey household. I slumped across the table ready to be absolutely depressed.
“Lacey? I know you’re in there… talk to me dammit…”
I think I’m right in saying…. “Eh?” What the hell was that? Was that our microwave talking? I have to admit, it was rather strange walking into the kitchen and not being welcomed by the electronic equipment. I strained my ears to hear again… it was so quiet. Perhaps it was the iron? That’s in a cupboard though, it must be shouting pretty loud.
But nothing happened. Even the appliances didn’t want to talk to me. I’m so alone and depressed. No one understands me! I figured that I had to go to school soon. In my dream I didn’t have to go to school; I passed my pilot test and got to work in a catalogue company, travelling around the universe… But it’s not going to happen, I am alone and bullied, and I have to go to school like everyone else…
“Do you think I should give him the kiss of life?” Oh God, that voice. I almost threw up on the shiny floor. What the hell kind of appliance is that? Eurgh, it’s so ugly sounding, I do not believe I would ever allow my mother to buy appliance that spoke like that.
“No, no… I think that he can cope…” Now this voice, this voice was creamy and smooth and so, so lovely. Sometimes, when the tumble dryer gets lonely it talks to the washing machine. I don’t like the tumble dryer. But they’ve never sounded like this before…
“Wait, wait, Adam I don’t think that prodding his cheek is going to help…”
And then my skin started to crawl and I wanted to vomit. I was hyperventilating now, more with anger than fear. The room around me dissolved so that all I could see was Lazzara’s face. He looked so stupid, standing over me, a bit of drool coming out of the side of his mouth. I put out my fist and punched him in the face. Surprised, for some unknown reason, his arms wind milled and he flew backwards and tripped over, falling into someone else, managing to wrap a towel around his head like a turban.
I roared and sat up swiftly ready to kill him. But the sight of whom he landed on made my jaw drop. I know I was staring but it didn’t matter, this boy was made to be stared at. Everything that had happened started to leak back into my brain as I watched him. He giggled, his deep, chocolate eyes laughing too, his soft, long eyelashes combed the air as he closed his eyes and his beautiful brow furrowed. His perfect lips were so full and soft- sign of a well looked after appearance with lots of Vaseline. His skin was so light it seemed to have been painted on his beautiful, thin body. I watched him push the bumbling Lazzara off him and scramble to his feet. He was our saviour from the awful gases, I realised with a start. I saw him before I passed out, his beautiful face etched on my brain.
He bounced up lightly onto his feet as Lazzara was still scrambling around on the tiles not elegant in the slightest. He came over to me and for the first time I was speechless. He put his soft palm against my forehead and all I could do was stare into his beautiful, beautiful eyes.
“Don’t worry Captain Lacey, I’ve injected you and the rest of the crew with Gillform®- a drug that will help you breathe on this planet.” His voice hung in the air, and it was like listening to beautiful poetry. Not that I read poetry, or go to poetry readings… gross. I’m not that pathetic. But I’ve heard people say that phrase before, and that’s the only way I can describe it. If I cared about soppy poetry about being depressed and killing your self then I sure as hell would only want to hear it being read from him. He shouldn’t feel like he should kill himself as he has no reason to. However, Lazzara should feel like he has to, my Lord I hate him. This ‘alien’, which is entirely the wrong word for him- he was sent from heaven, continued to speak, each word being approached as delicately as the last. “We had quite a fright when your ship crashed onto our planet, and our first contact with alien life form was a whole crew collapsed on the floor. Well, apart from the blue one with suckers on his feet. He seemed to find the whole situation rather hilarious.”
“What? First contact? What’s happened with my ship?” I spoke, struggling to get the words out. My throat was dry, and my mind was numb. In fact, so was most of my body…
“Our best mechanics are piecing together your ship… however, your crew members seem very unhelpful, something about a strike?” I didn’t mention that it was HIS fault; after all, he could have chosen NOT to have a nuclear firework display. “The other crew members recovered very quickly, I’m surprised you were affected so bad.”
I heard a cough from nowhere that sounded strangely like “Karma”.
“I…” I started to speak, but his soft finger touched my dried lips, I’m in desperate need for some lip salve people! Oh I seriously thought about taking his manicured finger into my mouth and running my tongue up its length.
“Hush, you are weak, Captain. You must rest until you are ready to face the world.” His other hand squeezed mine and I felt a shooting, tingling feeling, all up my left arm. This never happens. No one is this beautiful; no one is better than me. Is my beauty being challenged by this entity? Am I still dreaming?
He got up and motioned to Lazzara to follow him out of the hospital and I just melted into the camp bed, staring at the tiled ceiling. I had a warm feeling in my stomach as I looked around the hospital- just like pictures of the old Earth hospitals. It had just enough equipment to keep someone alive, but not complete with screaming children and being overly busy and terribly confusing. In New Earth (I’m talking after the technological era- best thing that has ever happened to us) we just spoke to a doctor over a Neron Broadband Frequency (NBF) and got diagnosed online, the drug needed for recovery was teleported into the Drug Receiving Bay (DRB). This was amazing, like a step back in time.
I sighed in complete happiness, I haven’t been this happy for a long time, well with my moronic space crew who can blame me? He was perfect, and he was mine. I don’t care about anyone else who could be involved- I wanted him and I always get what I want.
Review. I know I say this each time and no one does but... PLEASE! Even if it's just to say how not funny I am.
How about this for a joke? What do a brick and a cat have in common? They both have tails. Except the brick. Hahahahahahahah!
Chapter One: Right Slap Bang In The Middle Of Things
Chapter Two: The information was lost on the NBF
I yawned, stretched my arms and half fell, half stepped out of my bed. I hate waking up in the morning and going to school, but it has to be done. School? Why did I think that? I passed a mirror hanging on the hall wall as I neared the stairs and glanced briefly at it. I can smell coffee and croissants lingering in the air, and it’s luring me downstairs. I can hear the familiar clatter of my mother, the sound of pottery clashing with cutlery. This is what morning is like in my house, and I love it. Wait… I went back to the mirror and took a full look at my face.
ARGH! Spots! Unshaven, whispery facial hair! Puppy fat! Pore marks! Unplucked eyebrows! Oh god, what is happening? I’ve really let myself go! I get closer to the mirror. My eyelashes are not long and thick, my usual soft, brown hair is messed up… it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase: “Bed Hair.” I stepped away from the mirror and looked at my full body. I was expecting to see perfect, flawless, pale skin that shone with healthiness, soft but noticeable muscles that made my body look so right, legs that were toned and moisturised, not too hairy to be unattractive, but enough to make me look a man. This was not I, staring in the mirror! I was an attractive, worshiped man hidden inside an alien body!
I prodded myself and checked myself over to be sure it wasn’t a trick. Everything resembled a fifteen-year-old body. It wouldn’t have been so bad, had my package not been so small! Ladies will never look twice at me! I am disgusting and foul. I spat at the mirror and wanted to cry.
The worst years of my life came flooding back to me, and I had to sit on the floor to steady myself- my legs pressed up against my chest, hugging my body to stop myself from shaking. Oh God, I realise my mistake! I took my position for granted, being captain of a travelling ship was just a dream. I had woken up in the same body I thought I left behind. This is my worst nightmare, and my Lord I am pathetic.
After a while of moping I pushed myself to my feet and slumped down the stairs, filled with such utter depression I had to forcibly stop the tears. I heard the post box fill with letters as I passed it, and thought dully back to my dream. I didn’t worry about the post in my dream; I always had good mail that came to my house, no threatening letters from people that hate me, no anthrax... I sighed as I took it out to glance upon the names. I vaguely remember the time before we could afford the Shooter Deluxe Edition of mailbox, which just teleported the mail from the centre office in London.
“Lacey… Lacey?” A panicked voice cut across my edge of utter depression, and I poked my puppy fat idly.
“Coming mother…” I slumped into the kitchen and sat down on the table.
There was no one there; the kitchen was so empty, the counters gleaming and new, no smell of breakfast and morning hovered in the air. I looked around for any sight of life, but there was nothing; just another day in the Jesse Lacey household. I slumped across the table ready to be absolutely depressed.
“Lacey? I know you’re in there… talk to me dammit…”
I think I’m right in saying…. “Eh?” What the hell was that? Was that our microwave talking? I have to admit, it was rather strange walking into the kitchen and not being welcomed by the electronic equipment. I strained my ears to hear again… it was so quiet. Perhaps it was the iron? That’s in a cupboard though, it must be shouting pretty loud.
But nothing happened. Even the appliances didn’t want to talk to me. I’m so alone and depressed. No one understands me! I figured that I had to go to school soon. In my dream I didn’t have to go to school; I passed my pilot test and got to work in a catalogue company, travelling around the universe… But it’s not going to happen, I am alone and bullied, and I have to go to school like everyone else…
“Do you think I should give him the kiss of life?” Oh God, that voice. I almost threw up on the shiny floor. What the hell kind of appliance is that? Eurgh, it’s so ugly sounding, I do not believe I would ever allow my mother to buy appliance that spoke like that.
“No, no… I think that he can cope…” Now this voice, this voice was creamy and smooth and so, so lovely. Sometimes, when the tumble dryer gets lonely it talks to the washing machine. I don’t like the tumble dryer. But they’ve never sounded like this before…
“Wait, wait, Adam I don’t think that prodding his cheek is going to help…”
And then my skin started to crawl and I wanted to vomit. I was hyperventilating now, more with anger than fear. The room around me dissolved so that all I could see was Lazzara’s face. He looked so stupid, standing over me, a bit of drool coming out of the side of his mouth. I put out my fist and punched him in the face. Surprised, for some unknown reason, his arms wind milled and he flew backwards and tripped over, falling into someone else, managing to wrap a towel around his head like a turban.
I roared and sat up swiftly ready to kill him. But the sight of whom he landed on made my jaw drop. I know I was staring but it didn’t matter, this boy was made to be stared at. Everything that had happened started to leak back into my brain as I watched him. He giggled, his deep, chocolate eyes laughing too, his soft, long eyelashes combed the air as he closed his eyes and his beautiful brow furrowed. His perfect lips were so full and soft- sign of a well looked after appearance with lots of Vaseline. His skin was so light it seemed to have been painted on his beautiful, thin body. I watched him push the bumbling Lazzara off him and scramble to his feet. He was our saviour from the awful gases, I realised with a start. I saw him before I passed out, his beautiful face etched on my brain.
He bounced up lightly onto his feet as Lazzara was still scrambling around on the tiles not elegant in the slightest. He came over to me and for the first time I was speechless. He put his soft palm against my forehead and all I could do was stare into his beautiful, beautiful eyes.
“Don’t worry Captain Lacey, I’ve injected you and the rest of the crew with Gillform®- a drug that will help you breathe on this planet.” His voice hung in the air, and it was like listening to beautiful poetry. Not that I read poetry, or go to poetry readings… gross. I’m not that pathetic. But I’ve heard people say that phrase before, and that’s the only way I can describe it. If I cared about soppy poetry about being depressed and killing your self then I sure as hell would only want to hear it being read from him. He shouldn’t feel like he should kill himself as he has no reason to. However, Lazzara should feel like he has to, my Lord I hate him. This ‘alien’, which is entirely the wrong word for him- he was sent from heaven, continued to speak, each word being approached as delicately as the last. “We had quite a fright when your ship crashed onto our planet, and our first contact with alien life form was a whole crew collapsed on the floor. Well, apart from the blue one with suckers on his feet. He seemed to find the whole situation rather hilarious.”
“What? First contact? What’s happened with my ship?” I spoke, struggling to get the words out. My throat was dry, and my mind was numb. In fact, so was most of my body…
“Our best mechanics are piecing together your ship… however, your crew members seem very unhelpful, something about a strike?” I didn’t mention that it was HIS fault; after all, he could have chosen NOT to have a nuclear firework display. “The other crew members recovered very quickly, I’m surprised you were affected so bad.”
I heard a cough from nowhere that sounded strangely like “Karma”.
“I…” I started to speak, but his soft finger touched my dried lips, I’m in desperate need for some lip salve people! Oh I seriously thought about taking his manicured finger into my mouth and running my tongue up its length.
“Hush, you are weak, Captain. You must rest until you are ready to face the world.” His other hand squeezed mine and I felt a shooting, tingling feeling, all up my left arm. This never happens. No one is this beautiful; no one is better than me. Is my beauty being challenged by this entity? Am I still dreaming?
He got up and motioned to Lazzara to follow him out of the hospital and I just melted into the camp bed, staring at the tiled ceiling. I had a warm feeling in my stomach as I looked around the hospital- just like pictures of the old Earth hospitals. It had just enough equipment to keep someone alive, but not complete with screaming children and being overly busy and terribly confusing. In New Earth (I’m talking after the technological era- best thing that has ever happened to us) we just spoke to a doctor over a Neron Broadband Frequency (NBF) and got diagnosed online, the drug needed for recovery was teleported into the Drug Receiving Bay (DRB). This was amazing, like a step back in time.
I sighed in complete happiness, I haven’t been this happy for a long time, well with my moronic space crew who can blame me? He was perfect, and he was mine. I don’t care about anyone else who could be involved- I wanted him and I always get what I want.
Review. I know I say this each time and no one does but... PLEASE! Even if it's just to say how not funny I am.