🚀 go-pugleaf

     Six dark, foreboding shapes maneuvered through space around Planet
Washington IX. One was a small freighter, desperately trying to avoid
deadly fire from the ships that pursued it. The largest of these pursuers,
the Nintendor-class battleship StreetFighter, was bearing down on the
freighter at a fearsome rate, attempting to snare the smaller vessel with
its' tractor beams. The other four ships had moved to cut off the smaller
vessel's escape route, should it somehow evade their flagship.
     [Visual Aid: play the starship sequence from the start of Star Wars.]
     "Yes!" chuckled the yellow-mohawked bridge crewman aboard the
StreetFighter, "Sir, we've captured the enemy ship! Boarders are ready!"
     The captain, a menacing man in red robes and armor, pondered for a
moment. "Very well, send Lichun in." He turned again to the blue-robed
Nintan who stood by his command chair. "I do not appreciate the Empire's
use of my force for such... trivialities."
     "You don't have to like it." the Nintan rasped, her face mostly hidden
by the cowl of her blue robe. "Just so long as you carry out your orders."
     "Don't worry on that account. I am B'son! I and my crew _will_ _not_ fail!"

                    WANDERING MORONS PART THREE
                         by Jesse Taylor

<----->

     The popularity of such things as comfortable footwear among the
citizens of the cosmos has long puzzled thinkers, philosophers, and other
such too-smart-for-their-own-good types. The most notable attempt to
seriously explain such phenomenon was a Convention of Thinking-Type-People
on planet Whaddayuthink III. For nearly three months, the thinkers thought
their thoughts, proposed theories, debated furiously, and were within
several hours of reaching a conclusion which would have rocked the
foundations of xenopsychology, when some bright young philosopher suggested
that since they had been working so hard for so long, it might be a neat
idea to take a few days off vacationing on Barbados, Planet of Physical
Delights.
     It must be noted that at the time of this writing, none of the
philosophers, psychologists, and thinking-type people who went to Barbados
have yet been located, except for one philosopher, who was discovered
drunk, naked, and half-mad somewhere in the Whaddamidoinhere system,
babbling about forming a cult around one of the 'massage' parlors on
Barbados.
     As to what the Hell(tm) _this_ has to do with _anything_, I have _no_
idea whatsoever.

<----->

     Turalyn and Morgan crouched in the hallway outside the main airlock,
whispering furiously.
     "This'll _never_ work!" Turalyn insisted. "You're out of your mind!"
     "Look, just trust me on this one." Morgan hissed. "Is your big friend
ready?"
     "Him? Oh, yeah, He's ready." Turalyn shrugged, gesturing upwards.
Morgan glanced up to see an extremely large, furry mass from which
protruded several gun barrels and ammunition belts.
     "Grraaaor." the thing commented.
     "Yeah, yeah, now hush." Turalyn said, quietly.
     "You actually understood that?"
     Turalyn blinked. "No, actually I have no idea what He says. I don't
even know what language He's using."
     "Doesn't it have a name?"
     "Err.. no. Maybe that's what He's been trying to tell me all these years."
     Morgan slapped her forehead. "Then how do you know it's a he?"
     "He shows a marked affinity for Felix's girlie mags." Turalyn grinned.
     There was a clanging outside the airlock. "Get ready!" Morgan hissed.
     BUH-KOOOM!! The airlock door was blown open by a massive explosion!
Two people, a woman and a vaguely taupe creature, stepped out, holding
threatening weapons. Behind them piled up dozens of Nintan marines.
     "Surrender!!" they yelled, as Morgan stepped in front of them.
     "Are you boarding us?" Morgan asked, calmly.
     The woman, whose uniform read 'Lichun', blinked. "Yeah! You got a
problem with that?"
     "If you're boarding us," Morgan said, utterly unfazed, "Then I'm going
to have to see your boarding pass."
     "My what?" Lichun blinked.
     "Your boarding pass!" Morgan insisted. "Surely you haven't forgotten
about Imperial Regulation 457.66x, subsection 22, paragraph 3, line 6:
'Imperial marines and boarding personnel shall at all times carry boarding
passes authorized in full by the Director of Blowing Things Up Violently.'
So I'm going to have to ask to see your boarding pass before I can let you
board us."
     "But..." Lichun blinked, desperately trying to remember. "But... We
don't _have_ boarding passes..."
     "What?!" Morgan gaped. "And you call yourselves Imperial Marines!!
Why, if word got out that you had boarded a ship without your boarding
passes... And did you remember to fill out the forms specified by IR
457.66c?!"
     Lichun looked around, panicked. "B-but nobody t-told me!! D-don't
report us! P-please!! Y-you don't know what our captain will do to us if he
finds out we forgot about a regulation!!"
     "Ok, ok." Morgan said. "Look, why don't you come back here, fill out
the necessary forms, and _then_ you can board us and shoot things, ok?"
     "And you won't report us to the captain?" Lichun asked, hopeful.
     "We'll just keep it between us." Morgan smiled kindly.
     "Thanks!!" Lichun grinned, following Morgan across the hall and into a
small room.
     "The forms are on the table, along with some pencils. Don't forget to
read the 56 pages of instructions before starting!" Morgan said cheerfully,
as the boarding party filed past her into the room. "NOW!!" she yelled, as
the last one passed her. There was a deafening roar as the furry critter
cut loose with everything, and then Morgan tossed in a concussion grenade
and slammed the pressure door shut.
     "I'll be damned." Turalyn said, impressed. "How did you know there was
a regulation about boarding?"
     Morgan shrugged. "I was just making it up as I went along.." she said,
grinning. "I used to have to deal with bureaucracy like that when I was a
trooper, so I knew what it was like." Her eyes gleamed. "Now let's get over
there and do some _damage_!!!"

<----->

     B'son scanned through several screens of information, trying to shake
the feeling that something was wrong. The boarding party should be sweeping
the enemy ship now, crushing all resistance. It was odd that Lichun hadn't
reported in, however...
     "SIR!!" the yellow-mohawked sensor tech yelled. "Security systems
detect intruders in our ship, heading for main engineering!!!"
     "WHAT?!" B'son yelled, leaping up. "Sound intruder alert!! Call out
the marines! Protect her highness!! AND STOP THOSE INTRUDERS!!!"

<----->

     Morgan, Turalyn, and the Thing hurried down the hallways towards the
battleship's engineering controls. Felix was talking over their comm-links,
instructing them on what they had to do.
     >I talked to N'Tyril, and he says you've gotta put demolition charges
on the main engineering station to disrupt them enough to let us escape.
Otherwise, they'll just snag us with their tractor beams again.< Felix's
voice said, sounding oddly serious, now.
     "N'Tyril?" Morgan asked.
     "My chief engineer." Turalyn said, "Actually, uhm, my only engineer."
     "Grrruur." the Thing commented.
     "This should be no problem." Morgan commented, shortly before a door
opened right behind their group and disgorged a mass of marines. Their
leader, an absolutely enormous man, leaped on top of Turalyn, pinning him.
"Dammit!" Morgan cursed, putting a couple blaster shots into him as the
marines began firing at her.
     "GO!" Turalyn yelled, as about a dozen marines began beating on him.
     "Damn!" Morgan said again, backpedaling furiously as laser bolts tore
up the floor and walls around her. She looked for the Thing, but it had
disappeared. Firing two more shots to keep the marines' heads down, she
turned and ran.

WHAT WILL MORGAN DO NOW???
WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO TURALYN???
WILL THEY ESCAPE FROM THE NINTANS???
WHY _IS_ 'COMFORTABLE FOOTWEAR' SO POPULAR, ANYWAY???

FIND OUT THE ANSWERS TO THE FIRST THREE QUESTIONS IN THE NEXT... SUPERGUY!

Jesse Taylor / taylorjb@vuse.vanderbilt.edu / Accept no substitutes!!
GCS/E d-(?) H s+:- g- p? !au>* !a w(+)>+++ v+(-) C++>++++ US+(++) P-- L- !3
E---- N++ K+++ !W--- M+>++ V-- -po+ Y+ t+ 5++ j--(x) R+ G'''' !tv+ b+++ D+
B--- e+(*) u-(*) h* f r-- n+(----) y+(-)* :: GEEK CODE Vers 2.1! (-: :-)