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Rocket Roger 1
Sit back and take a deep breath, then put it back....for you are about to
hear a harrowing tale of heroism, valour, bravery and courage .... with some
steaming space-gypsies thrown in.
__________________________________________________________________________
Roger Rogerson, Colonel in Its Majesties Space-O-Navy coolly surveyed the
situation. The tension had been building for weeks, the opposing parties
had frequently skirmished and now matters had come to a head. This would be
a battle to the death. Someone had to.....clean up the apartment !!!
Yes that's right, horrible as it may sound this cesspit of reflective
underwear, space-grams from Venus and half chewed Space-Chocs was going to
have to be cleaned up. Roger decided to put his best foot forward
.....outside the door......and down the Gravitic Lift......and into
the Patented People Mover street........
Calmly he raised his noble brow skywards to gaze at his apartment (the one
with the green fumes leaking suspiciously out the window) and decided
something.......STUFF IT !
With his highly trained arm he raised his highly dangerous Space-O-Blaster
and blew his highly offensive flat into highly small pieces.....The Space
Corps would pick up the tab, and probably give him a medal for halting an
epidemic in its pustulent tracks.
All of a sudden, the author ran out of plot, so he said ....
All of a sudden, his wristwatch bleeped and unfolded into a lightweight 7
foot wide hologrammatic screen with 14 inch speaker cones giving true
quadrophonic sound with such low distortion it would make you weep......
"Top Secret message incoming." bellowed a 747 inside the device.
"Attention Roger, " came a voice that boomed halfway down the street and
scared all the pets...." This is the highly secretive top-super-mega Heroes
and General Daredevil Lunatic Fringe Society who no-one has ever heard of
because we don't exist really....."
The speaker looked like Idi Amin, Sadam Hussein, the Ayatollah and the
last dozen American Chiefs of Staff rolled into one. From somewhere under
the medals, gold braid, ribbons and decorations, Roger noted a beady little
red eye twitching about nervously.
"Chadwick...., " blasted Roger in dulcet tones that made all women between
15 and 82 years of age in the surrounding area internally melt with delight.
"Chadwick, have you been ransacking the cereal packets and sending off for
those ridiculous play uniforms again....."
"I'm sorry, Colonel Rogerson, sir, b-b-but I just can't help it" blurted
the quivering Chadwick, "I do so want to join Its Majesties Space-O-
Navy..."
In a voice that made all female animals in the surrounding area develop
a nervous twitch, Roger replied.....
"I'm sorry, faithful yet incredibly idiotic sidekick. We can't have
kindergarten dropouts with terminal B.O and the social graces of a pox-
ridden clam like your vile self joining the incredibly useless yet very
necessary for tax reasons Space-O-Navy now, can we."
"Oh Colonel," blubbed Chadwick " so cruel, yet so handsome......" His
pathetic voice fell away in a torrent of tears.
"Come, come Chadwick, don't blubber...why did you call me, what's the
idiotic plot going to be this time..wait... don't tell me yet. First, feed
me that corny, cliched line that lets me look concerned, yet ready, anxious
yet brave and you know the rest."
"Yes sir, Colonel sir. Here goes...."
"THE EARTH NEEDS YOU AGAIN, SIR !!!!!"
****************************************************************************
Will Roger respond ....
Will Roger stop posing....
Will Chadwick get to join the Space-O-Navy....
Keep listening (or even reading) and await the next incredible installment
of Rocket Roger in The Space-O-Navy !!!!!!
============================================================================
Episode Two
============================================================================
In our last exciting episode, Colonel Rogerson was told that Earth was being
threatened with complete and utter destruction, unmatched since the 2012 AD
Grand Final. After posing dramatically, he turned to his Wrist-O-Studio
and told Chadwick, his idiot assistant, currently dressed as 18 separate
world leaders....at once.... that he would be at HQ as soon as the dramatic
music stopped.
============================================================================
As the last nauseating notes drifted up to the ether, much to the annoyance
of several minor deities, Roger strapped on his fusion powered Ferrari
Roller Skates and zapped off into the street, dodging the flying advertising
robots that plagued everyone nowadays.
There was one particular robot that kept harrowing our Hero, insisting that
his life was incomplete without Time-Life-Britannica-Reader's Digest's
Complete Guide to Great Cheese Makers of Titan. Roger could not see the
validity of this case and politely requested, for the 532nd time this
month...
"Piss off or I'll blow your chromic head into space-vapour" When the stupid
but persistent robot (sounds like our Marketing Students) kept following him
Roger grabbed it out of the air, and reprogrammed it to have a strong desire
to be within 4 miles of the centre of the Sun.
Roger made the final turn off the Skate-a-way into the building with huge
neon sign on top...."Highly Secretive Top-Super-Mega Heroes and General
Daredevils Lunatic Fringe Society (please kill yourself after reading this
sign)".
He was met by the strange creature that called itself Chadwick, which was
strange because everyone else called him "What's that bloody smell ?"
"Thank God you're here Colonel Rogerson, this episode is really stretching
out, and we haven't even begun plot exposition. Please hurry to the
briefing closet."
The briefing closet was a security device whose stupidity was unparalleled
in the history of sneaky backstabbing espionage. The directors of the
H.S.T.S.M.H.G.D.L.F.S decided to build a huge briefing room with the latest
in electronic briefing gadgetry and security devices, then "For super-
safety," decided to meet in the basement broom closet. This would "fool any
idiot trying to blow the building up." Naturally, they would be buried
under the rubble of a 40-storey building, but at least the ENEMY didn't get
them.
Waiting in the broom closet were two men. The first was the Head of the
H.S.T etc, Commander Xenophobia Bloodlust. The second was Dr. Frankenstein
Juliff, mad inventor of weird phrases as well as the most lethal modular
gadgets in the history of Gadgetry, with a beard you could lose a Arcturan
Mega-Wombat in.
Command Bloodlust stepped forward....
"We have your mission Roger. It will be deadly dangerous, but we want you
to do it because otherwise the story finishes here.
ATTENTION, PLOT DEVICE COMING UP: "Evil, sadistic communist sympathizer
aliens have set up a base on Uranus ..... Shut up Chadwick, no biology
jokes. They have built ....The Stupo-Ray, an incredibly fiendish plot-twist
which turns whoever it hits into a drooling vegetable with no intelligence
at all. They plan to fire it at Earth take over the world. We have a
suspicion they already fired it at some banana republic down South
called....Australia. They hit a little village called Canberra, but it
didn't seem to change anything."
"Your mission, should you decide to want to keep your pension plan, is to
infiltrate the enemy base on Uranus....Shut up, Chadwick.... destroy the
Stupo-Ray and save any beautiful maidens along the way....
CAN YOU DO IT, ROGERSON ? "
______________________________________________________________________
Can Roger do it ?
What can't Roger do ?
Will Chadwick get in that really neat joke about (SHUT UP, SCRIBE !!)
Sorry....
Will the people of Canberra notice any change in the politicians ?
Read on in the next exciting episode of..........
Rocket Roger Rogerson of the Space-O-Navy !!!
============================================================================
Episode Three
============================================================================
(Ed. Beware the In-Joke. It lurks in every line about Doctor Juliff.)
In our last episode, Roger learned of the imminent destruction of the Earth
intelligentsia by the Stupo-Ray. In a meeting with Commander Bloodlust and
Dr Frank 'Frankenstein' Juliff, Roger is asked whether he will accept the
mission........
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I would be honored, sir !!!" lied Roger. Actually, he was hoping the
mission involved a fact-finding tour to Eroticon VI, or shooting lots of
small furry mammals out of cannons on Alpha Centauri; he hated dangerous
missions, they tended to be, well, dangerous !!
"Good show, Roger !!" wheezed the Commander, "But before you go, Dr Juliff
has been working on a few gadgets for you. He tells me they're all modular
and really adaptable...Please continue, Doctor..."
Dr Juliff stepped forward....sort of....more like.....lunged forward and
shoved the most lethal weapon Roger had ever seen into his face.
"See this, son ?!" bellowed the good doctor.
Roger nodded slowly....
"Looks the spitting image of the M99 Mega-Pain Death Blaster, don't it "
Roger started to answer, but Dr. Juliff wheeled round and talked to the
wall, ceiling and the general atmosphere....
"I'll bloody say it does, look at the modules on this baby...standard Heat
Sensor gizmo here and this Sureshot Sniping Gizwhacker right here, I mean if
you couldn't hit a fly's left eyeball from a furlong away, Jeez, ya might as
well just go out and cook dinner for six, know what I mean, son. Right you
do....."
"Sorry, my lad where was I, hmm ? Oh yes the M99 and so on...well it's not,
it's actually a pencil, cunningly disguised at great expense. See, look at
this...you take off this module here, redirect this thingummy here point
this over here, divide by the number you first thought of, that's a joke,
boy, -laugh, and hey presto, Bob's your Auntie's best friend...A pencil !
Whaddaya think of that, son ?"
Roger didn't think much at all, he was too busy following the blur of hair
and trying to spot where the voice came out of. Unfortunately, the look on
his face set the good doctor off again....
"What are you looking like that for, you've got no idea how useful this
little baby is...fully modular, too. Imagine this, Charlie....you're in a
prison cell out back o' beyond, how you gonna send a rescue note without
this little baby, eh ? Didn't think of that, did ya...Well there's more
where that came from, just you wait here till the Great Spotted Blonks come
home to roost..... "
He left in a hurry muttering something about "Why don't they get heroes that
buy books about modules, I've got a brilliant one in the Highly Secret
Bookshop..."
Roger shuffled over to the Commander and whispered,
"Where did you find him ?"
"No-one's actually sure, " mumbled the Commander "He just showed up one day,
said he was from the Victorious Centre for Alien Elimination, and occupied
an office. We let him stay, as long he keeps turning out gizmos. He
brilliant, if just a little eccentric."
Dr. Juliff whizzed back in a cloud of metaphors.
"Cop this lot, Roger, the latest in modular suits packed with features from
the late twentieth century, the Seventies to be exact. Whack this gear on,
Rog."
Roger hated being called Rog, but something in Juliff's eye told him to do
what he was told.
"I'll just whack these babies in here...." said Dr. Juliff as he attached
the flare modules to the trouser section.
"Not too sure about them myself, but Sergeant Redpath seemed pretty sure."
In-Joke Mk II-----^^^^^
"One last thing, Roger, this suitcase that transforms at the press of a
button into....another suitcase !! You'll probably think of a use for it
by, say, the fifth episode. I mean, you'd better hurry up, because my
goat's gander been got at by the monkey's short and tall of it, so I'm
singing everything while I build a bloody brick wall and ...."
The Commander stepped forward and smacked the brilliant Doctor upside the
head with a very functional truncheon.
"Sorry Roger, he just goes on a bit, sometimes...." He started dragging him
out...." Good luck with the mission Roger, you'll be catching the 12:43
shuttle to Moonie Base One, tickets under the mat on the way out....bye
now."
Roger sighed, and trudged towards the door. Chadwick, the Lunatic Sidekick
was waiting for him, and as usual smelled like the North end of a South-
bound vulture. He didn't look too dissimilar either, dressed as he was in a
Kaftan six sizes too big with a shoulder length wig on backwards. His nose
was bloody from walking into walls.....
"Are we going to Moonie Base One, Colonel Rogerson, I've always wanted to go
there !"
"You wanting to go there is hardly a reason for their tourist bureau to
start leaping up and down for joy, Chadwick since you are the only so-called
human alive who can repulse a battalion of Tranthian Skunk-Fiends. Besides,
I don't think those throwbacks have any bureaus, except for the ones they
keep their alleged clothing in. I don't see why we have to dress like
them...."
Moonie Base One represents one of the triumphs of the New Age movement.
After all that messing about with Crystals and funny voices, they felt the
Karma of the Earth just wasn't right. So a group of militant hippies, if
you can call owning a picture of Rambo militant, hired a shuttle, landed at
Moon Base One, and sort of took over. And like, wow man, the breadheads
didn't care ! Actually the astronomical cost of running Moon Base One was
making the 'breadheads' think carefully about maybe playing darts with the
dome and collecting on the insurance. So they didn't mind the hippies
keeping the Base, as long as they allowed normal traffic through.
Unfortunately, the hippies insisted only 'Brothers and Sisters of the Soil'
could come through. The government hit back, as it usually does, by being
sneaky. It issued all travellers with flares, beads, kaftans and CND
necklaces, gave them phrase books and sent them to the renamed Moonie Base
One. The hippies were overjoyed to see all these new Brothers and Sisters
come filing through the Gates of Karma. So overjoyed, in fact, that they
didn't mind letting their new recruits "just pop off to Delton III for a bit
to meditate for a while....like, man, wow, dig it."
When none of them returned, they didn't really notice; what, with the Lunar
soil producing the most potent marijuana in the Solar System, you wouldn't
notice much either.
WELCOME TO THE MOST ABRUPT ENDING SINCE NAPOLEON DECIDED HE COULDN'T !!
Thanks to some highly expensive editing procedures, you'll have to wait till
the end of episode four for a cliff-hanger. Some of our older readers may
have been getting heart trouble anyway, so breath deep and relax till next
time when you'll see.......
Rocket Roger meets Episode Four in a small bar in downtown Milan !
============================================================================
Episode Four
============================================================================
As Roger and Chadwick hurriedly filed through to the departure area, dodging
weirdos handing out flowers etc and entered the VVVVVVVVVVVVVFT loading bay.
The V(etc)FT was the direct descendant of the Very Fast Train project, a
marvel of engineering, and rather a good joke, actually. (Well, I liked
it.)
It would take them to Saturn's largest moon, Titan in a matter of hours,
rather than the months it used to take when hitch-hiking from passing
Planetary probes. They still couldn't make edible sandwiches though, and
the coffee was still twenty dollars a slice......
Roger would have been bothered by all this, except his mind was on other
things, not the least of which was the modular pencil, which, being 4ft long
and bristling with weaponry while being hidden in his trousers, gave him a
nasty pain and got several impressed looks from many women, as well as a few
men. The other pressing issue was the news that Pirate Space Accountants,
the scourge of the System, had been spotted in the area.
Space Accountants were a new development in an old business, piracy.
Accountants had always been pirates but with the advent of planet sized
computers, human accountants were made redundant. Though they stopped
training them, there were a lot of old accountants hanging around
desperately stopping people in the street begging to be allowed to audit
them, for old times sake. Eventually, a large group of them (known as an
'overbudgeting of accountants') bought a ship, and started cruising the
space lanes, stopping ships and auditing everyone on board, giving them
coffee and company prospectuses etc... then slitting their throats.
As the train cranked up to 0.65 C, which is very bloody fast (thus the
name), Roger ran over a few facts in his trembling mind. Firstly, he knew
the concept of Pirate Space Accountants was irresistible and would certainly
be developed further, which meant peril for him. Secondly, he had no idea
how to get to Uranus...Shut up, Chadwick....and thirdly, the missiles and
laser bolts crackling outside his window were getting rather noisy, as was
Chadwick who cowered over Roger's head, snug in the baggage rack. Laser
Bolts ?!!
Roger leapt to his heroic feet, and struck a meaningful pose, ready to leap
into action as the Pirate Accountants boarded the train. Unfortunately, he
leapt too hard and forgot about the weightlessness. As he floated helpless,
but very brave, the train screeched to a halt, and Roger slammed into the
far wall and slid to the floor in a crumpled heap. Chadwick did likewise,
but swapped baggage racks in the process. After a few minutes passed, and
normal gravity had been restored, the door to Roger's compartment slid open.
The strange figure that entered was a sight not many have seen and survived.
A suit from Regent Street was accompanied by a smart leather briefcase, an
eyepatch, a bowler hat on top of a fiery red headscarf and a huge cutlass in
the other hand that would have made Blackbeard worry.
"Good evening sir, and yo ho ho."
Roger slowly awoke.......
"My card, sir....."
It read "Messrs Scurvy Dog Fletcher & Mad Dog St-Clair III".
"Shall we get down to business sir, or shall I slit your gullet and strangle
you with your own intestines ?"
As the Pirate Accountant awaited Roger's answer a soft moan came from the
baggage racks, which quickly escalated to a scream as Chadwick rolled off
the rack and onto the Pirate, bringing him down in a flurry of "Pardon me,
sir" and "I'll keelhaul the scurvy landlubber !"
"Good work Chadwick, " exclaimed Roger as he practised his art of kicking
the opponent when he's down.
"Now let's get off this train, and save the Earth."
Cautiously, Roger stepped outside his compartment. The corridor was empty,
save a butler robot trundling towards Roger carrying a huge cocktail. Roger
recognized it as a Brain Melter, a drink that made the Pan-Galactic Gargle
Blaster look like Santraginnian Mineral Water. Brain Melter hangovers were
know to last at least 16 years, thus the highly expensive drink was popular
only with the spoiled offspring of the mega-rich.
The robot turned and entered the compartment next to Roger's. A horrible
whining noise emerged.
"No no no, you stupid oik !! The parent company owns a 24% share in itself
while leasing back half the equipment under Section 13 ! Call yourself an
accountant. Ha ! I know Lesser Spotted Gronks with more brain power !! Get
it right, peasant before you bore me to death !!! "
Roger peeked round the door and saw a Pirate Accountant lurching in a number
frenzy, desperately scribbling figures on a wall sized piece of paper.
Watching him and pointing madly at various bits of the horribly convoluted
diagram was the most beautiful woman Roger had ever seen; well...bits of
her, anyway....
Her clothing was exquisite, obviously money was no object to this socialite.
Star Opals graced her ears, a gold and iridium weave dress clung tightly to
her svelte figure. Roger knew at once......it was all surgery. After all,
how genuine can a woman be, if their breasts have been filled and lifted so
many times they nestle on her shoulders, and affect her hearing !!
As Chadwick closed on Roger's heels, the woman turned, nose upturned.
"What's that godawful smell....Who the kufnuk are you ? "
Roger noticed that the accountant was stuck in an accounting frenzy, a
peculiar condition in which an accountant wouldn't notice if you ripped his
nose and ears off and served them to him on toast.
"I'm Colonel Roger Rogerson, ma'am. At your service. I've been ordered to
rescue any beautiful maidens I find, would you care to ...."
"By you ?" laughed the woman. "No way, prole. No-one touches me until they
reach at least eight million groats a year. Besides, this little man, " she
gestured toward the still scribbling accountant "is going to tell me how
rich I am. So off you go, and take your pet with you."
Roger shrugged and turned to leave, only to find the doorway blocked. No
ordinary blockage, i.e something in the Door department. This machine was
definitely from the Horribly Beweaponed Death Dealing War Machines
Department. It wore an eyepatch and bowler hat and was painted with the
legend " Debt Recovery Droid: Pay up in money, or bodily organs."
"Colonel Rogerson ?" droned the robot. Roger nodded, stupidly.
"About your expense account...."
Roger swallowed nervously, how would he get out of this one.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How will Roger escape the Debt Droid ?
Will he really miss having a pancreas ?
Has the author run out of accounting jokes ? (No way, matey)
Tune in next time for another exciting episode of ....
Rocket Roger Rogerson of the Space-O-Navy !!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
============================================================================
Episode Five
============================================================================
In the last episode, Roger escaped the pirate accountant, but was now being
menaced by a Debt Recovery Droid, the most hideous machine ever devised for
financial purposes, except the random phrase program making up Australia's
budgets, known as the Keating Device.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Roger stood there, his mind worked feverishly. Unfortunately, it wasn't
working on a brilliant plan. It was actually searching its memory and
preparing an Oscar-winning rendition of Roger's life, ready to let it flash
before his eyes. Roger was going to die, or so he thought.
Chadwick, with the cockiest look on his face since Saddam Hussein sent the
troops in, stepped forward and looked up at the robot.
"Hey robot, recite Pi to twenty billion decimal places. Run for it Roger
!!!" Chadwick took off in a blur, only to be picked up by the robot's
massive arm.
"YOU'VE BEEN WATCHING TOO MANY STAR TREK RE-RUNS, THAT ONE DOESN'T WORK ANY
MORE."
"Well," squirmed Chadwick, trying to wrestle free, "what does work ?"
"NOTHING LIKE THAT, INSECT ! YOU THINK I'D TELL YOU ?! "
Just then Roger noticed something shiny pinned to the robot's bowler hat.
He couldn't quite make out if it was Kylie Minogue or an Efrishian Drankut.
He decided to take a chance: "Everybody's doing a brand new dance now...."
he sang hopefully. With astonishing speed, the droid launched into a dance
routine, flinging Chadwick down the hallway, while deploying a blonde wig on
its head and a tight pink skirt around its waist.
"COME ON BABY, DO THE LOCOMOTION !!!"
Roger nipped past the droid and sped off down the hall.
"I know you'll get to like it if you give it a chance now..." suggested
Roger over his shoulder.
"COME ON BABY, DO THE LOCOMOTION !!!" bellowed the joyous robot clanking
around the hallway like the Flying Scotsman on amphetamines.
Laughing confidently, Roger turned the corner and entered the escape pod
area. A sign on the wall said "Only to be used when running out of train
jokes. Warning escape pods have very little joke capability. Use
sparingly." Nice talking signs they have round here, thought Roger as he
decided to take a chance on the jokes, and on being in a confined space with
Chadwick.
Making sure Chadwick sat next to the extraction fan, Roger reviewed his
options. There weren't many. He decided the best jokes and plot line would
be found aboard the Pirate Accountants now empty ship. As he let the pod
slide gently out of its berth, he felt a twinge of sorrow for the pirates.
Being trapped on the same train as that woman was a fate to hideous to
contemplate. But then again, that's the only kind of fate accountants
deserve.
A short time later, the pod docked with the Pirates Ship, the romantically
named Serial Number 29X8348H. The airlock hissed open and Roger entered the
Pirate ship's docking area. A sign on the wall read "Please complete this
form in triplicate before entering the ship." Three small forms fell
through a slot in the wall and a tiny shelf unfolded itself from the wall,
but it was too high up and far too small, so Roger just used his knee.
Name: Colonel Roger Rogerson
Occupation: Hero
Purpose of Visit: Takeover Bid
As Roger wondered what to do with the forms, the inner airlock slid open.
On the other side stood a young boy, about sixteen years old. "Obviously
the office junior gopher," thought Roger, and handed the forms to the boy.
"What are the forms for ?" queried Roger.
"The first goes to head office, " replied the boy "The second to our files,
and the third is for burning."
"Burning ?!" gasped Roger.
"Yes, " said the boy, very matter-of-factly, "something's got to run the
ship."
Pirate Space Accountants, having rejected all forms of computerization and
most forms of machinery, nevertheless need to power their spaceships. A
four month committee meeting decided that steam power, which represented the
Golden Age of Filthy Luchre (Industrial Revolution) was most suitable. Steam
power requires burning, however and all the coal and coke were long gone.
However, accounting's most abundant resource was easily found: Paper.
Centuries of filling forms in triplicate had resulted in a paper mountain so
vast, it would run their fleets for centuries.
Roger made his way to the bridge, crossed the bridge and entered the
'Pilot's Office.' (Accountants took everything so literally !) It held a
bewildering array of pipes, tubes and gauges with not a binary digit in
sight ! As he gazed around, one sign caught his eye. "Engine Room" it
read, sitting just above a large metal funnel.
"Hello ?" shouted Roger into the funnel.
"Good afternoon, sir." came the reply. "Are you the new Managing Director ?"
"I..I believe so." answered Roger.
"What are your goals and objectives, sir. We need them to aid in
formulating engine policy."
"Engine policy ?"
"Yes sir, the engine has to be happy with its role in our company. We give
it a policy, like, our last policy of catching your train before the next
financial period. Understand ?"
"I believe I do, yes. Well my goal is to get to Titan as fast as possible."
"Can do, sir. I'll schedule a committee meeting for Friday lunch."
"What about now ?" bellowed Roger,"or you'll be sucking vacuum !!!"
"Yes sir, now is also a very good time for me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Will Roger make it to Titan ??
Will the committee decide on engine policy ?
Will Chadwick rate another mention in this story ?
Tune in next time, for another brilliantly written, if a little hazy at
times...
Rocket Roger Rogerson of the Space-O-Navy !!!
============================================================================
Episode Six
============================================================================
Attention: The David Syme business school has expressed its dismay at the
portrayal of committees in this story as being slow, indecisive and useless.
They intend to present a draft proposal for changes, which they are now
discussing in a meeting. We expect to hear from them around November 2003.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Roger sat at what passed for controls on the Pirate Space Accountants ship.
After all, everyone knows accounting has no efficient controls. Titan
loomed large in the drawing one of the crew made for him. There were no
windows on the ship, because windows were clear, and nothing in accounting
practice should be clear. Like the general public, Roger just assumed the
ship knew where it was going got some sleep.
When he woke up, the ship was berthed and he and Chadwick left. Roger
resigned as Managing Director, collected his super and promised to invest it
wisely. That night, around the clubs and bars that dotted Titan City, he
did just that. Titan was still undergoing terraforming and was now the
furthest outpost of what passed for modern civilisation. That is,
advertising agencies, bars, Japanese restaurants and booming criminal
element. Few people lived on Titan, because everything had to be shipped in
from Earth, and so was horribly expensive. Advertisements tended to run
something like: "Got a few extra gold bars lying around ? Then why not
invest in this genuine chair !!"
With Titan being as far out as any ships went, Roger had a problem. He had
to reach Uranus....Shut up, Chadwick....and save the Earth from the hideous,
malicious, evil-smelling, ugly aliens who wouldn't think twice about
stealing your garden hose. The author also had a problem; making this
crossing of half a solar system sound plausible without inventing
teleportation. Hmmmm......
Roger was deep in thought, contemplating his navel, when he became aware of
a strange, overpowering voice behind him. He turned, to see it was coming
from a small CRT mounted under a sign that read OWT OF ORDUR (Dodgy signs).
"I'm Arthur !!" claimed the fat, ridiculously clothed figure.
"And I'm Wayne !!" offered the other moronic looking character.
"Are you having trouble saving the..."
"Universe ?!" piped up the other.
"Can't get to Uranus to fight the evil alien infestation "
"Then come on down to Dodgy Brother's Faster Than Light Space Taxis !!" they
announced in an approximation of unison.
"Since hyperspace is actually nowhere, we'll..."
"Get you nowhere fast !" bellowed the other flagellating throwback.
"Just press the button under this screen and we'll be there in a ...."
"Taxi !!" "Jiffy !!" "Nice suit !!" "Few hours !!!"
Chadwick piped up "Are we taking a taxi to the alien base, Colonel ?"
"We don't seem to have much choice, little smelly sidekick. "
Chadwick press the button, which promptly broke off in his hand. The TV
screen and the section of wall it sat in slowly moved up, revealing a
decaying embarrassment to the automotive industry. Inside it sat two
embarrassments to their Mother: The Dodgy Brothers.
"Another potential customer, Arthur."
"Whaddaya mean 'another.' You're not still saying that bloody dog was a
customer, are ya ?"
"Shut up, Arthur....Good evening, gentlemen. Care to fly the friendly
skies....no....Good, you'll want us instead then. Climb in...we're bound
for Uranus....Shut up, Arthur."
Many strange sights were beheld by the occupants of this weird vehicles.
Not the least of which was what looked like a blue police box with a scarf
hanging out the door. Wayne managed to sideswipe it, even though there was
nothing else around for at least 500 million miles.
Things quietened down for a while, until Wayne announced there was something
'bloody huge' on the Budget Radar. Arthur asked if it was edible at all,
but got no answer. As the minutes passed, a metallic glint could be seen
far ahead. They drifted closer and closer until the glint revealed itself
to be a spaceship. But it was huge !! Miles long ! Miles high ! Probably
miles to the lavvys in the back too !! The taxi was suddenly bathed in a
green light. Another insidious plot device !! Also known as a tractor beam
!! Cue suspensful music....Cue terrified looks of helplessness....Cue DANGER
!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What will happen on the spaceship ?
Will Roger every get to save the Earth ?
Will the author run out of plot before that ?
Send your ideas to me, how will this story end ?
See you next episode, same VAX-time, same VAX-account number for.....
Rocket Roger gets frisky and watches Olympic Gymnastics !!!!
============================================================================
Episode Seven
============================================================================
Episode Seven of Rocket Roger; you're welcome to it. In our last thrilling
episode, the Dodgy Brothers, Roger and Chadwick were all trapped in a FTL
Space Taxi being dragged into a giant space ship. What fate awaits them ?
Read on if you dare (or if you're skipping lectures, slack hoons.)
============================================================================
The green light bathing their tiny craft grew more intense as they
approached the gigantic ship. As they came nearer, Roger could make out a
name on its prow: The Challanic. Not THE Challanic !! (see end of paragraph
to understand the joke.) This ship vanished sixty years ago,on its way to
Alpha Centauri to build a colony. What fate befell the ship and its crew.
They would find out soon enough......
They stepped out of their taxi into the ships docking bay. Strange thing
was, it looked more like an office. Desks, carpeting, flimsy cardboard type
separators, and lots of graphs all over the place. On the near wall Roger
could see large photographs of the ships namesakes: The space shuttle
Challenger and the ocean liner Titanic.
A woman in her early forties, hair drawn back tight into a bun, glasses out
of the 1950s and the most runway sized shoulder pads Roger had ever seen.
This woman obviously took power dressing to its credible limit.
"Aha, you gentle-persons must be the management consultants."
"Err...no...you dragged us in here, remember ?" answered Roger.
"Yes, we thought you were trying to dodge the issue. Most consultants do."
replied the woman, looking bemused. "Who are you, then. Did personnel send
you up ?"
"No, we're trying to get to Uranus." piped up Chadwick.
The woman started to kick him, then her face lit up.
"Oh, you mean the planet ! Sorry little person."
Roger coughed and said "Would it be possible to be dropped off there,
Mrs...err"
"Please !!" The woman looked shocked. "Young person, while on this ship you
shall mind your manners. Refer to me as Person Highsec. I am the High
Secretary on the ship. As to your original question, I am afraid this ship
isn't going anywhere, we have experienced a temporary breakdown in the
engines."
"How temporary is that ?" asked Roger.
"About sixty years so far. We're still in committee as to what alternate
solutions we have. The Propulsive Sub-Committee advises petitioning the
engine to call off industrial action, the Action Sub-Committee wants to kick
it until it starts up again, and the Procrastination Sub-Committee wants to
postpone everything till next year, and have another Christmas Party."
Roger stared at her incredulously.
"Why not just radio Titan and ask for some help ??!!"
"We'd rather solve this on our own, thank you. We don't want higher
management thinking we are not self-sufficient."
She turned around and Roger stepped back to let the shoulder pads pass him.
"Why don't I take you on a fact finding tour of the ship, maybe you can
think of something we've missed. I'm sure we'll find some stray bits of
plot lying around."
They started to walk through the ship. The whole place really was a huge
office. Men in ties and collars looked nervously at VDUs, the women did
exactly the same (between looking bitchy at each other, and commenting on
each other's taste in clothing). Ergonomically designed chairs ensured
maximal discomfort, so it must be good for you, and obviously, a committee
had decided on the office decor. At least six different colours graced each
wall, dotted with weird paintings that probably cost a fortune.
The next area they entered contained a vast number of books, stored neatly
on shelves, thick with dust.
"What are they ?" asked Roger.
"Management texts." replied the female person. "Actually, no-one reads
them, but we pretend we have. We all get a one page summary of that lot,
and that just about covers everything you'd need."
"So this is just excess weight ?"
"Yes, I suppose it is. Why ?"
"Don't you know any physics at all ?"
"Fizziks ? Who's that ?"
"Well for a start, physics says that if you throw all that out the back as
fast as possible, you'll start to go forwards at a proportional speed. With
all this stuff here, you'd be at Alpha Centauri in a few months !"
"Wow, I wonder why we never thought of that. This Fizziks person must be
really clever. I wonder if they'd like a job here....."
While she contemplated that, Roger and Chadwick slipped away, leaving the
Dodgy Brothers to deal with her.
"Don't worry, boys. With credentials, talent and honesty like yours, I
think you'd make great managers."
Roger and Chadwick started to head back to the docking bay. They passed
through more offices. Modern art furniture could be seen everywhere.
Chairs with backs four feet high were attached to about two square inches of
seat. The triangular tables fairly creaked under the weight of a magazine
called Management Hourly. They eventually found their way back to the
alleged docking bay, climbed in the alleged taxi and sped off to further
adventures and thrilling, if a little unbelievable, plot lines.
See you next time on ....
Rocket Roger Passes the half way mark !!!
============================================================================
Episode Eight
============================================================================
Roger and Chadwick made their way through the offices back to the docking
bay, and reentered the taxi. Roger cringed at the thought of Chadwick's
potent aroma for another 10 hours, and his nose desperately tried to clamber
off his face.
"Well, Chadwick, I wonder which career stereotype we'll criticize this week.
I think we've run out of business and management-types, so I think its time
for RELIGION !!!"
As the taxi choked its way out of the huge doors (upon which was taped a
little A4 Poster asking WHERE IS GOD IN YOUR LIFE) (Chisholm Joke) Roger
turned on the radio. After much crackling and wheezing, and generally
sounding like a burning pensioner, a voice came through: Very American, very
overdone, very vomit-inducing.... (for GAD, read God in an American accent).
"Brethren !!! Children of GAD !!! Welcome to Amalgamated Religion's Worship-
Meditation-Yoga-Soul-Saving-Hour-Of-Power !!! We have gathered together to
worship God and contribute to his retirement fund..... Yes my Children, GAD
himself told me he's going to retire. He doesn't like this Universe, it
doesn't pay well enough. He's been offered a job two dimensions down,
unless he gets more money here. YOU CAN HELP, my children. Just send
every bit of money you have, and maybe we can convince Him to stay. Also
GAD confided in me, there aren't enough good looking nuns around, especially
at my nun-school. If you're ugly and thinking of joining, forget it.
GAD told me that from now on, would-be nuns must be under 25, slim, with a
balcony you could do Romeo and Juliet from. A complete physical check by
myself, as GAD's most trusted nun-picker, will ensure GAD is pleased with
your sacrifice."
"Now, its time for our most popular segment, Make A Missionary. Brother
Lauda is out in the Divine Dragster, we're crossing live......Niki, mate,
you there ?" "Ya, Mein Friend I here am being. Following now am I the taxi-
cab, which is holding two peoples inside, one of racially pure Aryan stock,
the other is being not fit for ze shitting upon. You are being now a
missionary, yes ? Please to call the present station of listening, and
missionary shall you become. Happy shall you be as small nations shall you
invade und learn jokes zat you may impress Helga und Gretel very much, Ja."
The radio went dead as Roger leaned over his shoulder and saw the last thing
he needed....the Divine Dragster. He picked the CB handset and spoke to
Brother Niki.
"You don't mean me do you, Brother Niki ?"
"Who else meaning vould I be. A missionary you are now, pull over in the
name of God..."
"Now look, hang on a sec....**BOOM***"
The noise came from the alleged engine of the alleged vehicle. It probably
had something to do with that Geschaftenkwik Missile that slammed into it.
Roger decided pulling over was in everyone's interest, especially his.
Chadwick stopped picking his nose, a habit he'd developed because the
pressure desensitized the cowardice part of his brain, making him feel
brave. He'd written off to the Space-O-Navy many times, but each time had
received a curt letter thanking him for his suggestion, but the sight of
12,000 men with their fingers buried deep in their nostrils was hardly
likely to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy.
"Are we going to be missionaries, Colonel huh are we, are we, huh ??!!"
"Chadwick, I think I'll be the missionary and you'll be my converter, OK ?"
"What's a converter, sir. Is it important, do I get a uniform..."
"Well, we'll just saunter into some backwater jungle village and tell
everyone that you'll visit each hut for hours on end, unless they change
their religion. One whiff of you is enough to make Jesus repent. Why do
you smell so bad anyway Chadwick."
"Well, my mum buys all my aftershave and deodorant. But since she died
twenty years ago, and was blind anyway, every morning I spray myself with
rotting flea remover, ancient industrial greaser, or moldy fly spray. And I
can't really change any of it, because she made me promise to treasure
everything she ever gave me."
"Well, maybe after we get back to Earth, you can hire yourself out as a
locust plague repellent.....for Mexico perhaps."
By this time, the Divine Dragster had pulled up alongside. But the
dilapidated taxi had no docking mechanism...the bloody thing hardly had a
chassis, transmission, micro-fusion pile, or even fluffy dice !! It looked
like time for some debate-causing plot twist: an unsuited space walk.
Roger started breathing deeply, oxygenating his blood as much as possible.
Chadwick did the same, filling the cabin with a foul pong. A side
compartment opened up on the Dragster; that was Roger's destination.
"Ready Chad ?"
"Yes, Colonel"
"Pity....OK, here goes...."
The doors on both sides slowly slid, crunched and ground their way back, and
fell off. Roger felt the unimaginable cold seeping into his body, his eyes
blurred slightly, as what little air still in his lungs rushed out and froze
before his eyes. Bracing his feet on the side of the taxi he pushed off and
drifted into the airlock opposite. He turned to see if Chadwick was with
him. But no !!! The airlock door had closed behind him, with Chadwick
still outside, clinging to the handle, and ringing the doorbell for all he
was worth, screaming into silence. Roger heard air hissing into the airlock
and Brother Lauda's voice over the intercom.
"Are you alright, Brother Rogerson ?"
"Open the damn door, you idiot, he'll die out there !!"
"No chance, I'm not having that smelly, inferior scum on mein nice clean
ship."
"Open it, or I'll kill you and do it myself, that heap of dysentric camel
dung still owes me thirty bucks !!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What will Brother Lauda do ?
Will Chadwick turn into a corpsicle ?
Will Roger really become a missionary ?
Will the author think of any more jokes, I hope so ?
All this and nothing else will be revealed in the next thrilling episode of
Rocket Rogerson hunts for a new plot line !!!
P.S Anyone who doesn't believe an unsuited spacewalk is possible please go
to a library, get Arthur C. Clarke's "The View from Serendip" and read
something useful.
============================================================================
Episode Nine
============================================================================
In our last thrilling instalment, Roger's little stinkbomb of a buddy,
Chadwick was on the wrong side of an airlock and running out of time fast.
On the inside of the airlock, concerned about the thirty bucks Chadwick
still owed him was our hero, captured by the evil Brother Niki Lauda, worst
driver this side of Venus.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roger desperately looked around the steely compartment, the laughter of the
evil Brother Lauda ringing in his ears. Then he saw a large red button next
to the airlock. He rushed over to it, and read the little notice taped
above it. "Press in the event that someone is trapped outside and about to
die hideously." This was definitely the right time to press it. After all,
it's very difficult to get money out of someone's pocket when they're frozen
solid, clothes and all.
Roger slammed the button, and a faint whirring noise came from inside the
wall. Roger looked up at Chadwick through the airlock window. Chadwick was
looking above the door, at a video camera that extended out towards him,
seemingly capturing that certain look.....certain doom.
"What the hell are you doing, Lauda, you inhuman monster !!" cried Roger,
doing his best Flash Gordon pose.
"I am ze shooting of ze jolly little Death Video to send back to Earth for
ze playing of at ze parties, und family gatherings und all zat kind of
schtuff. Is good idea, ya "
"Nein...I mean....no ," yelled Roger "Who's going to watch it. He hasn't
got a family and certainly hasn't got any friends."
"Vot about his parents. Surely he is not being an amoeba, involved in a
growth experiment that went horribly wrong ?"
"His Father abandoned him fifteen minutes after the birth, and his mother
could barely stand the smell. When she went blind and learned to rely on
her other senses, every time he walked past, she'd say "Good morning Farmer
Johnson...been out shovelling shit all morning, then ?' Finally, she made
him leave at the age of sixteen before she became convinced she lived next
to a slaughterhouse without freezer facilities."
A strange quiver crept into Niki's voice.
"Ya, mein parents were the kicking of me out also. Every day mein Mother
would make all different German food things. For breakfast pickled pig's
trotters und schnapps. For lunch pickled peanut butter sandwiches with
pickled apples und schnapps. For dinner, pickled horses tail soup followed
by pickled pickle in pickle sauce with pickled ice-cream afterwards......und
schnapps. I HATE GERMAN FOOD !!! I am a German and I hate German food,
every Geschtinken thing is Braufenzi Geschfrigenzi PICKLED !!! Mein Gott, I
cannot let ze little fat one die. So disgusting is he, he vill not mind to
be eating my lunch for me, Pickled Martian und schnapps. We shall speak at
great lengths about how much our parents we are hating."
A moment later, the airlock hissed open. As the video camera withdrew,
Chadwick's grubby little hands seized it, and he allowed the momentum to
carry him through the airlock into the compartment.
"Colonel Rogerson, sir...Thank you for saving me !!" This little cliche was
delivered in typical "Sidekick crawly lick grovel Style".
"That's alright Chad, but you've just spent a good one and a half minutes in
hard vacuum near absolute zero....You should be frozen solid !!"
"Aha...a normal person would be....but I'm definitely not normal. You see,
all the gunge and muck and ancient aerosol I use and can't get rid of seems
to act as damn good insulation ! Even so, that good one and a half minutes
was actually a bloody awful one and a half minutes."
Roger smiled. At least with all those noxious chemicals frozen to Chadwick,
the smell would go away for a while.
"Brother Lauda ," called out Roger, "can we listen to the news for a while,
we're on some urgent business."
The crackling of the weak radio signal carrying the news through the sub-
etha blared into the cabin.
"....and here are the main points again. The City of Melbourne has failed in
its 99th attempt to host the Olympic Games. Said a spokesdroid 'We're
really looking forward to the next bid so we'll crack a century.'
Weather; there will be a strong front of alien menace around the Dark Side
of the Moon, while those of you living on Uranus (loud sniggers in the
background) can relax, the alien menace has subsided."
"Oh no Colonel, the alien menace has moved to the Moon, why do you think
they did that ?"
"Probably because the outer edges of the solar system is utterly devoid of
jokes, I would guess. Brother Lauda !! Take us to the Dark Side of The
Moon. We've got an alien menace to exterminate !
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Will the aliens finally show up ?
When will Chadwick pay up the Thirty bucks ?
Why has the author engineered the most unbelievable plot since Toxic
Custard !
Will Melbourne ever get the Olympics ?
For these answers, plus Pi to 800 places, tune in next time for
Rocket Roger Goes Alien Smashing !!
P.S Those of you who noticed the sudden absence of Roger's press ganging
into being a missionary......Don't be so picky, I'm on a tight schedule.
============================================================================
Episode Ten
============================================================================
In our last exciting episode, Roger had nobly extricated himself and his
little sidekick, the brave but reeking Chadwick out of the stickiest
situation since Sticky the Stick Insect got stuck on a sticky bun.(Thanks
Ben Elton) What will happen this episode. . . Let's find out.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Roger swung lazily in the jerry rigged hammock he set up. One end was tied
to an anonymous steel ring in the wall, the other was tied around Chadwick's
neck.
"You know Chad, I'm looking forward to the end of this stupid adventure."
"Why's that, your Colonelship. Are you tiring of the endless violence, the
pointless waste of life; do you desire the more noble pursuits of the human
soul such as art, dance, sculp....."
"What are you babbling about, Chadwick," said Roger sitting upright and
nearly breaking Chadwick's neck," I couldn't give a toss for that crap, and
I love mindless violence as long as I'm dishing it out. I'll tell you what
really riles me. We've been trekking across the bloody Solar System for 3
weeks now, and we still haven't seen a woman !! I mean, this so called
witty, humorous, madcap serial is meant to be a parody of Z-Grade sci-fi
movies, right ? So where's the women ? Where are the scantily clad
Martian princesses with four breasts ? Where are the Barbarella clones
with hopelessly impractical but very revealing bikini space-suits ?
"Oi you ! So-called author !!"
"UH....YES, ROGER ?"
"I want to see some women in this episode, preferably without a lot on !"
"UM, OK ROGER I'LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO."
"Good....and no ugly ones.....keep 'em slim.....find a sheep for Chad too"
"MUMBLE MUMBLE BLOODY EGO-TRIP OFFICERS MUMBLE MUMBLE HORNY BASTARD...."
The Divine Dragster continued it's headlong plunge towards Harpo, one of
the many Defence Stations in Lunar orbit. Harpo was so-called because it's
radio was always on the blink so it never said anything. Groucho and Chico
were really popular, but no-one ever saw Zeppo, and the less said about
Karl the better.
The docking proceeded without fuss or funny, but the music was annoying
since everyone hated the harp. Upon disembarking there were two gorillas
in uniform waiting for them, carrying viciously lethal looking M99
MegaDeath Plumbium Cannons (They'll fill ya full of lead) (Chemistry/Latin
joke.)
"Come with.....us." they mumbled, checking little papers in their hands to
make sure they had the words right.
Roger and Chadwick bade farewell to another expendable character: Brother
Niki Lauda. An ill-conceived, hastily thrown together and badly scripted
character but still a friend, and a great platform for German jokes.
The two Neanderthal guards led our heroes to a small electric car, which,
at the breakneck speed of three miles an hour took them to a small white
room. "Wait here." said the more talkative of the guards.
Roger and Chad sat patiently for a few minutes, until the door shwooshed
open (Swooshed ?) and a familiar figure whizzed in.
"So, you slack son of a five-legged mule. You couldn't handle a simple
case of alien infestation, so you opened a can of inspiration and rushed
home to Doc Juliff."
It was, of course Dr Frankenstein Juliff, loopy and nutty but completely
clever inventor of Modular Gadgets the likes of which had never been seen.
He had given Roger the modular four foot long imitation M99 Death Cannon
which with a few simple twists become a highly useful pencil. (More astute
readers may have noticed the strange disappearance of this item after
episode five)
"Well Rog, me old son, me old cobber, me old china, me...old....MATE !"
The force of the last word shocked Roger into speech....
"Um....yes....Good morning Doctor.....err.."
"I can see you're all choked to the nines with gratitude at the usefulness
of my incredible modular pencil. But you'll need something stronger than
that for the next few episodes. These aliens aren't kidding around
anymore, nosireebob'syourunclecametostayforeverandadayandwhenhewentaway
weallwroteaplay WHOOP !! Sorry Rog, my wording module is being passed
incredible amounts of tramp data. Just a little logic error, easily fixed
noworrieswhatsoeveratallnothingtofeareverythingsundercontrolitsfinenearly
gotit.....WHOOP !! Ah, jeez, that's better.
We've finally managed to get a picture of the aliens, and they're uglier
than a Joan Kirner look alike competition. We lost a good man getting
this picture, so memorize it well, you'll have a test on it before you go.
We might even add up the scores right, too" (Another in-joke, sorry)
Roger carefully examined the picture. The evil curve of the huge talons.
. . the piercing black pools in it's eyes. . . the scaly blue feathers. .
. and the really cute way it fluffs up its head feathers... ?!?!?!?! This
was no ordinary alien, it was one of the most evil, sadistic, merciless
mutant BUDGIES the Universe had ever known !!
Every inch of six feet tall, and all called Joey, these horrible creatures
came into being through a freak accident involving uranium, plutonium,
germaniums (the pink ones), a cranium, a trapezium and 8 little blue
budgies in a terrarium. Nothing had been heard since the plague of Joeys
had carried Tasmania off to the depths of space. They were back in force
now, and on the Dark Side of The Moon......The Earth Seemed Doomed.....
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Will the plague of Joeys overwhelm Roger ?
Will a girl show up for Roger to get ?
Will the people in the computer center crack down on this rubbish ?
Will this story get any more unbelievable ?
For all these answers plus How to get bird shit off your upholstery
read....
Rocket Roger buys every Church album and really likes them !!!
Do you know anyone who would like to subscribe to Rocket Roger ?
No ? Well send me their account number anyway, and laugh all the way to
the Bank !!
============================================================================
Episode Eleven
============================================================================
In last weeks heart-stopping instalment, Dr Franky 'My beard's bigger than
yours' Juliff revealed to Roger the true nature of the alien menace, now
residing at 24, Dark Side of the Moon Street, The Moon. Mutant budgerigars,
six feet tall and bent on Universal Domination and all called Joey, no less.
How will Roger handle this....read on...
+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|+|
"Gasp !!" gasped Roger, gasping.
"Gosh, Roger, " goshed Chadwick, Roger's little sidekick/buddy/insect
zapper, "This is going to be harder than I thought. Nothing short of a
thermonuclear MegaBlastaBomba can even tickle a Joey. How are we going to
beat them, your Heroship...sir."
"Well Chadwick, we'll just..uh.....no we won't....we'll....uh...erm....Why
do I always have to make these decisions ? Surely the leaders of the world
and top scientists and people like that wouldn't just let an incredibly
handsome yet sensitive but rugged hero like me come up with all the ideas !
What about you, Doctor Juliff, got any ideas about Joey Extermination ?"
"Sure as whale shit sinks I do, Rog-baby. Just 'ave a butcher's at this
little lot."
He gestured towards a scrap merchant's delight piled high in the next room.
Peering through the window, Roger asked what it was and what possible use
half a ton of scrap metal would have in fighting creatures that ate M-756
Battle Tanks for breakfast.
"Well, Roger, you know how budgies love their own reflections, yes ? Well,
Joeys are no different. So we'll just polish that lot up, build a mirror,
stick a pilot on it and presto, no more Joeys."
"No more Joeys ?" piped up Chadwick.
"Yeah, we'll just fly her into the Sun. No fuss, no mess, no bother !"
"No pilot." added Roger sarcastically, cocking his eyebrows at the Doctor.
"Oh yeah....we didn't think of that. Well we really need a pilot or the
Joeys will break the mirror and we'll get thrashed again."
There was a short, embarrassing silence, the kind you get when you're
typically about half way through a date, and run out of weather to talk
about. Doctor Juliff started again.
"Look, sod that for now, let's get it working first before we worry about
niggly details like an agonising broiling death while spinning Sunwards.
You must understand that you can't fly this mirror to the Joeys' base,
their radar is amazingly sensisitive. You'll have to take it through the
Lunar sewers, which by an incredible coincidence were just linked in to the
alien base yesterday. Even alien invaders have to pay rates, y'know."
"How do I carry half a ton of scrap metal through sewers, and where in the
name of Skilbey did you find it anyway. Lunar freight haul costs a mint !"
"Glad you asked, Rog. We had this VAX on the base for database purposes.
Well by an unfortunate coincidence we all tried to run INGRES at the same
time. Poor thing didn't stand a chance ! Just blew itself to Kingdom Come!
As for transport....Through the Wonders Of Modules.....by the Powers
Invested In Me.....Abracadabra......Supercalifra(no, just kidding)....we
are proud to present you with your NEW....MODULAR....CAR !! (Insert crappy
game show noises)
Dr. Juliff pressed a large purple button a the scrap metal began to twist
and turn and leap about like a frog on speed. In about a minute, where
there had been a worthless pile of scrap VAX there now stood a awkward,
stilted...well, words cannot sufficiently describe the essential WEIRDITY of
the thing.
Chadwick leaped up the air and began waving his arms about like a typical
brainless game show constestant.
"YYYYEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" he bellowed with a grin you could lose a tractor
in, and he launched himself through the window and ran, still screaming in
ecstasy, and draped himself over one of the wheels.
"It's BEAUTIFUL !!! I LOVE IT !!! Is it really ours ?"
Doctor Juliff and Roger cautiously picked their way through the broken
glass, towards the strange vehicle.
"Yep, it's yours until you die, or you finish the mission, whichever comes
first." said the Doctor.
"I don't know how to drive this thing, Doctor and Chadwick couldn't drive a
nail into a 4 X 4."
"That's why you'll be provided with a driver. She's also the story's token
bimbo, so don't expect discussions on Aristotelian philosophy, OK ?. . .
Aha, here she comes now."
From the other side of the room, a figure (and I mean a FIGURE !!)
voluptuously . . .well, walked isn't the word. She sort of
slid/wobbled/glided over towards Roger.
"Hi Colonel," in a voice silky and smooth with a hint of condescension
('Only a Colonel ?') "I'm Mammary MacBimbo, your driver. I hope you're
ready for this trip, it's going to be...bumpy." Some of those words were
accented in a way that made Roger incredibly nervous. He plucked up
courage, remembering he was the hero of this story, and incredibly sexy.
"Sure thing, Miss Mac Bimbo. Ready when you are, and then a couple more
times after that too !" This was obviously going to become disgustingly
biological.
"When do we leave, Doctor ?" asked Chadwick, noticing Roger's complete
fixation on Miss MacBimbo and her main redeeming features.
"Now Chadwick, we're fast running out of Moonbase jokes, and the gags coming
up are festering quick so we'd better get to 'em fast."
Our gallant crew clambered into the Sewer-Mobile, and the western wall fell
away, revealing a deep dark passage that smelled only slightly better than
Chadwick on a warm day.
"Here goes Colonel, ready to take the plunge ?"
"Whenever you are, MacBimbo !"
She slapped it into third and floored it. ("Another woman driver." thought
Roger) The craft shot off into the darkness. What horrible dangers would
they encounter in the terrible maze of Lunar sewers. (Clue: Green & eats
pizza) Find out (if you can't guess) in the next episode !!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Will the Joeys respond to the mirror treatment ?
Will MacBimbo affect Rogers judgement, or just his libido ?
Will Rocket Roger get more readers than that Toxic Custard crap ?
(YES,YES!)
Tune in next episode for another thrilling instalment of Rocket Roger !!!
============================================================================
Episode Twelve
============================================================================
The Sewer-Mobile sped on through the labyrinth of grey tunnels that made up
Lunar City's sewer system. The threat of Lunar Sewer rats, huge ferocious
and very rude, had been alleviated by strapping Chadwick to the bottom of
the vehicle, just above the water line. God help him if a wave should
develop. God help the rats too. "How much longer will this take, MacBimbo ?"
asked Roger casually, trying to sound like he did this kind of stuff all the
time.
"Not much longer, Colonel. Sewers are dead boring and there's not many
jokes floating in this crap. There is one concept we have to be careful of.
. . and I think were just about to run into it. Look !"
She pointed ahead into the semi-darkness. Roger could make out three...no
four blobs seemingly running towards them. He signalled MacBimbo to stop
the Sewer-Mobile and unstrap Chadwick in case they needed to scare anyone
off.
The vehicle gradually halted, and Roger looked carefully at the shapes. . .
definitely humanoid. . .They had stopped running, though and seemed to be
trying to catch their breath...wheezing...coughing...spluttering. Then they
started running again, along the concrete banks of the sewer channel.
"Come on dudes," Roger heard the lead one cry "like there's more non-
beaudacious and totally uncool sewer invaders coming to find our secret
hide-out !!"
"God, not again." said MacBimbo seemingly disgusted, "It's the Geriatric
Mutant Ninja Turtles." Seeing Roger's confusion she continued.
"After the craze in the early 1990's died away and kids went nuts over the
Infant Hamster Assassin Squad instead, the Turtles were kicked out of their
luxury Hollywood Sewer. They tried some part time work, but there's not much
call for four underage mutants in any field. So they came to the moon and
submitted themselves for medical experiments. After those were finished
they moved into these sewers, and they've been here for seventy years. No
matter what you do, just don't mention the Hamsters, OK ? They can't stand
them."
The four Turtles had finally reached our heroes, and after catching their
breath, they spoke. (Wheezed, more like.)
"OK dudes, no funny moves, or we'll jump around making silly noises and
waving these dangerous toys about."
"Yeah....we're lean....mean....spleen ..."
"Green, dufus !!"
"Oh yeah, sorry dudes, my memory's not what it used to...er..oh yeah...be !"
Actually the sight of four geriatric amphibians with long green beards and
more wrinkles than a Hollywood Tribute didn't exactly terrify Roger. But it
did worry Chadwick.
"Oh please Turtles, don't hurt us !! We're only trying to save the Earth.
I hated the Infant Hamster Assassin Squad too !"
The turtles all looked at him and wrinkled their wide, flat, hairy noses.
"Whoa, little dude, what happened to you ? Been swimming in the sewers ?"
"You must be real evil, I mean you're short, smelly, and all the other 'bad
guy' cliches in our cartoons. I think Food-Processor and the Big Toe Clan
sent you !! Turtle Power !!"
As one, the four turtles surged...well...hobbled forwards and started
bashing the side of the Sewer-Mobile. (Actually, wet celery would have
caused more damage than they did.)
"This is ridiculous !" yelled MacBimbo. "We're being assaulted by four
decrepit mutants ! " She started the Sewer-Mobile again, "One side, phlegm
features !" and the turtles were knocked aside as the Sewer-Mobile leapt
forward and continued it's harrowing journey.
Within minutes, they had stopped underneath a manhole.
"This is it, Colonel, the entrance to the Joey base. Here, put on these
disguises." From a compartment she pulled out two "Acme Joey Disguise Kits:
Hours of fun for the whole family, until you get locked up !"
"Put these on, and the Joeys won't suspect a thing. . .Unless Chadwick
leaves his head facing backwards; fix it, halfwit !" Chadwick corrected the
cranial orientation problem, and asked Roger "Squawk, tweet, tweet, squawk,
Who'sanaughtyboy, then."
"Automatic Joey Translation unit." explained MacBimbo. "Now get going !"
Roger took his head off, (so to speak) and asked how they were meant to
carry a half ton car around inconspicuously.
"No problems, Colonel. Watch this."
She pressed a small button on the side of the car. An almost inaudible hum
filled the air and the car slowly began to shrink, and shrink, and shrink.
When it was matchbox sized, MacBimbo picked it up and gave it to Roger.
"You now have half an hour before it expands into its mirror configuration,
which, being two hundred meters wide will be a little uncomfortable if it's
still in your pocket. Try not to let that happen, it's ve.."
"Thanks for your concern, Mammary, I'll remember you in my dreams." drawled
Roger, suavely.
"Very expensive !" continued MacBimbo, annoyed.
"Oh....right..." blushed Roger, quickly taking the shrunken mirror.
Chadwick was already half way up the ladder, and Roger followed him.
Mammary MacBimbo watched them go, and as the manhole cover fell back into
place, she turned to face the reader/camera. She pulled a small black box
out of her uniform. "They have just entered sector 12, I'm continuing
observation."
From the top of her head, a small rip appeared, and spread down through her
torso. Inside, amidst the folds of uniform and synthetic skin, could be
seen... blue feathers !! The disguise fell into the filthy sewer, and in
MacBimbo's place stood...A Joey !! Cackling and squawking, the evil
impostor climbed the ladder into the base, with murder on her mind.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
What will MacJoey do to Roger and Chadwick ?
Has MacJoey sabotaged the mirror ?
What will our heroes do ?
Tune in next episode for the next thrilling instalment of
Rocket Roger of the Space-O-Navy !!
============================================================================
Episode Thirteen
============================================================================
In our last episode, Roger and Chadwick had infiltrated the Joey base.
Unbeknownst (ancient word of the week) to them, their driver, Mammary
MacBimbo, is actually a Joey spy. She followed them into the base, and
will almost certainly be mean and nasty to them. Just to make things
really bad, Roger only has half an hour to deploy the Joey-Killing Mirror
before it expands and kills him. How will Roger get out of this one ?
Read on and find out . . .
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Roger and Chadwick cautiously climbed through the manhole and looked around
and the Joey base. It was just what you'd expect to see in a lair of
40,000 mutant six foot budgerigars on the moon. (If anyone knows what that
is, exactly, please write and tell me, then submit yourself for psychiatric
treatment.)
The whole place was made up of twenty foot high cages, with cute little
sliding doors and lined with old newspapers. There were thousands of them,
stacked high, suspended on huge tree like structures. Noticeably absent
were the usual paraphernalia associated with budgies, such as mirrors,
ladders, bells, and little plastic framed balls. Roger recalled an article
during the first Joey plague explaining the Joey's abhorrence of these
items, as they brought out the primitive budgie instincts in them. i.e
Ringing bells, climb ladders to nowhere and throwing balls up in the air
and letting them smash their skulls in. The modern Joey avoided these
items at all costs. (Remember that. It's important later on.)
Of course, there were the Joeys themselves, seemingly very busy, flying
between various cages intended for purposes unknown to our heroes. Many
carried metal objects, others lifted giant coconuts between them, gripping
them by the husks. The overall picture was one of industry working at full
tilt for the destruction of the Earth, with all the Joeys single-mindedly
applying themselves. . . all save one: MacJoey, the impostor that had
followed Roger and Chadwick into the base. She now stood about thirty
meters behind Roger and Chadwick, slowly advancing towards them. "Look out
Roger !" came a chorus of children's voices.
Roger turned, but MacJoey had quickly hidden behind an anonymous structure.
"What is it, children ? Is the evil Joey behind me ?" The Joey started to
overact her way towards Roger. . . "Yes Roger, she's behind you !!" Roger
whirled around, but the Joey had moved again. . .
"Where, children ? I can't see her !! Are you sure she's here ?"
"Yes ! Yes ! She's behind the anti-plasmoid shield converter !"
"Of course...the old 'hiding behind the anti-plasmoid shield converter'
trick ! Come out, you evil old bird, you've got Rocket Roger to deal with
now !"
MacJoey slowly emerged from her hiding place, and grinned evilly at Roger.
"So, you knew I was a Joey agent all the time. Before I rip your head off,
you might as well deal out some more plot exposition. How did you know ?"
"It was quite easy, actually. When you so callously ran over the Geriatric
Mutant Ninja Turtles, I wondered how anyone trained by the Navy could be so
cruel and unfunny. I then made a great leap of deduction and paranoia, and
sneaked a quick look at the next episode to make sure you were what I
suspected; a Joey agent ! So I'm ready for you now, do your worst !!"
MacJoey and Roger began to circle each other, each poised to strike...
"You won't be so chirpy after this, pal. "
"You're dealing with me now, feather brain...your goose is cooked."
"Well, I'm genetically engineered for combat; you're a dead duck ! Anyway,
I've already told the authorities you're here !"
"So....a stool pigeon, huh ?" "Yep, and when they get here, you'll be caught
and tortured for information; then you'll sing like a bird !"
Roger stood up, and cast his best 'annoyed psychopath' look at MacJoey.
"Oh yeah...well, A rolling stone on the other foot is worth two gift
horses. "
"Huh ?!!?" replied MacJoey, and looked around while trying to
figure out Roger's gift to English Literature.
"AHAHHAHA !" bellowed Roger as he leapt into action and planted his feet
square into MacJoey's capacious chest. She was flung backwards, and tripped
over Chadwick who was curled up on the floor in a well rehearsed manoeuvre.
Her neck smashed against a conveniently placed wall and she died instantly.
(I'm not one who believes in noble enemies getting off lightly with a mild
concussion.)
"Brilliantly done Chadwick, that's the first thing you've done
right in living memory. What's your excuse ?"
"I was trying to make friends with a Lunar Grasshopper. I nearly had it
convinced, but then that mean ol' bird hit my head and.."
"What's that thing hanging off your nose, Chadwick ?"
"That's the grasshopper, sir. I don't like to put my nose where its not
wanted, and this is ridiculous !"
A loud flapping of wings drew Roger's attention to the dark sky. It was
accompanied by Physics screaming out that flight in a vacuum was impossible
without a power source, but was quickly shouted down by Artistic License.
After all, the sight of three hundred man sized birds flying through a
Lunar Twilight is more terrifying than three hundred man sized birds
flapping in place.
"Uh oh, let's get out of here fast !!" urged Roger. He leapt into the air
and began flapping his arms like a man whose armpits are on fire. The
brilliant design of the suits incorporated a null-grav device accompanied
by a small...er...why am I explaining this to you. Look, he can fly OK ?
The two impostor budgies flew high over the alien base. Fighting back the
urge to panic hysterically, Roger looked around, and noticed an flat, open
area. Perfect ! He banked and headed for it, closely followed by Chadwick,
and a horde of Joeys. The horde grew larger as the squawk got around that
infiltrators had...well, infiltrated the base. Roger touched down, and
Chadwick crashed in a heap.
"Quickly Roger, by an amazing coincidence, there's only twenty seconds left
until the mirror unfolds !"
"Right, little buddy, start running ! Head for that big red 'X' on the
ground." Roger dropped the little device, and started running from the ...
what do you call a group of mutant six foot budgerigars ? Roger ran as fast
as he could, passed Chadwick, and tripped him up to make time. Lucky for
him, the Joey's avoided anything that smelly....
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Will the mirror unfold in time ?
Will the author find a suitable ending for this story ?
Will another story be forthcoming after this one ?
Find out in the next thrilling episode of Rocket Roger !!!
============================================================================
Episode Fourteen
============================================================================
In our last episode, Roger was running for his life from a flock of mutant
budgerigars (Joeys) on their base on the moon. He had just dropped a device
which would expand into a two hundred meter mirror, which should mesmerize
the Joeys with their own reflections. But the Joeys are getting pretty
close.....
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roger stopped at the marking on the ground, and read the little sign.
"Minimum safe distance for expansion of two hundred meter mirror and also
for being chased by group of evil mutant Joeys"
"5....4....3.....2....1...NOW !!"
As it happens, one of the birds nearly got a wingtip to Roger before a
deafening roar filled the air. Picture the following scene, if you can.
A glistening, awe-inspiring structure polished like the sun, two hundred
meters high. In front of it, sitting quietly on the ground are 40,000 six
foot budgerigars, all mesmerized by their own reflections. Behind it are
two figures, climbing a ladder to a small cabin in the centre of the
structure. They enter it, and the click of the door sealing are the only
noises to disturb the immaculate silence, until the Joeys start to murmur to
themselves, trying to provoke a response from their reflections. The mirror
silently lifted from the alien base, followed by the helpless Joeys.
"Now what do we do, Colonel ? We can't just land at a zoo and say 'Hey
we've got 40,000 mutant birds to spare; do you want a couple...'"
"Simple....we fly 'em into the sun, like the Doctor said."
"But won't that get a little hot for us too ?"
"Yeah...but like any macho Hollwood-Type hero, I'll bother about that when
we get there....Jeez, don't look out the window; you'll drop your guts !!"
The sight was something to behold...and then regret beholding. A copious
amount of the most fearsome avian mutation seen, since Big Bird caught
Rabies and ripped eighteen toddlers apart on Sesame Street.
"The computer says they're gaining on us, they'll start hitting the mirror
in about 7 hours at this rate."
"Seven hours...that's way too long. The readers can't wait that long.
Quick, invent a plot device that'll get us to the Sun in about four lines."
"Aha, Colonel...what about this button that's just been thought of, marked
'Press here to get to the Sun in a hurry.'"
"I expect it'll get our asses out of this frying pan and into one Mother of
a fire !" remarked Roger as he pushed the button, which promptly vanished.
It was suddenly very hot, which led Roger to brilliantly deduce they were
somewhere near ...wait for it...The Sun. Great !! Sort of....
Looking out of the window, Roger saw the fearsome beaks of the hardy Joeys
nudging forwards faster and faster. Within seconds, they were upon the
mirror, chattering away to their reflections and pecking like fury.
"Buffalo Balls !!! We're dog-meat !!" cried Roger "She's breaking up !!" The
whole cockpit was shaking and buffeting, and our heroes began to pray for
another brilliant plot twist to 'Please get us the Hell out of this...'
Chadwick was flung out of his box, striking a massive red button marked
'Eject Cockpit and send it back to Earth to a hero's welcome.'
A final blast of power, and the cockpit was still, drifting slowly back to
Earth. Chadwick and Roger struggled to their feet and looked outside. The
mirror had begun to crack up and rifts began to appear in its immaculate
surface. The Joeys began to snap out of their entranced condition, but
found themselves helpless. Unlike on the Moon, where Physics took a
backseat to Artistic License and let the Joeys fly in a vacuum, being this
close to a major astrophysical body made things different.
The Joeys continued their inexorable drift towards the Sun, which suited
Artistic License just fine, because they all got roasted as they meandered
through a lovely hyperbolic orbit. By an incredible coincidence, about
three months later, 40,000 beautifully cooked birds the size of ostriches
plummetted to the Earth in famine stricken Asia, thus saving millions of
lives and annoying the Hell out of Bob Geldof, who had a little single all
ready for release.
INSERT "TIME GOES BY" MUSIC HERE
Roger and Chadwick lay by the pool at the Everest Hilton, sipping enormous
cocktails, munching on the rave new delicacy: Solar-Cooked Joey.
"We did a brilliant job, Chad...especially me."
"Yes sir, Colonel sir, absolutely amazing."
"We really deserve this break after our harrowing adventure...I wonder
what'll happen next week."
"Nothing, sir. The writer's buggered off for a holiday, nothing's going to
happen till he gets back."
"Right then, I guess we'll just wait around here till he does. Waiter !!
Another three of these, please !"
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