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    CRAPSHOOT & CO. #14: ON BOARD THE BUILTMORESTAR GALACTICA
                        By Robotech_Master

  Special thanks to The Swede, who lent me the Super Doubletalk
             Fortress One and crew and Zen Navigator


    There are those who believe that life here began out there.
However, that is completely irrelevant, so we'll skip it and get
on with the story.
    We return to our heroes just after artificial gravity had
kicked in as part of the modular transformation system, and after
everyone had picked himself up off of his various body parts
(except for Filmation, who was immune to inertia).  "The first
thing we need to do," Chance E. Vennt was saying, "is see how
everyone who was in the skyscraper when it took off is doing.
Filmation, Claymation, I'd like you to take Jimmy Smathers and
see what you can find out."
    "All right," Filmation nodded.  "I guess this means that
you're taking over as captain of this ship?"
    "Looks that way," Chance said.  "Kissy McCall, I'd like you
to run a complete check on the on-board computer system.  Sheri,
this goes against my better judgement, but you've got the helm."
    "Um," Kissy McCall said, "I'm not sure I should be bringing
this up, but doesn't that leave Sasha Borodurov on command and
communication?"
    "What to be wrong with that?" Sasha asked indignantly.
    "Um...right," Chance said.  "On second thought..."
    "I'll look at the Astrogation console," Zen Navigator
volunteered.
    "Hey, I wonder what this button does!" Jimmy Smathers
remarked brightly.
    "Come on, Jimmy," Filmation said, taking him firmly by the
arm.  "We have a starship to examine."
    "I'm coming already!  Geez, don't have to yank my arm out of
the socket..."  Filmation and Claymation departed the bridge with
Jimmy in tow, and the remaining occupants sighed with relief.
    "Okay.  Now, then."  Chance stepped up onto the elvated
platform at the center of the bridge, which Sasha Borodurov was
currently occupying.  "Let's see if we can find out where we are
and what to do about it."
    "Captain!" Sasha said.  "To being sleeted!"
    "What?!" Chance looked over Sasha's shoulder and checked the
CRT screen she was pointing at.  "No, no.  You mean we're being
HAILED."
    "Sleet, hail, what difference?"
    "Put it on...um...on scan."
    "Da!"  Sasha hit a key, and one of the video monitors blinked
on.  The picture was of a middle-aged man with a dark mustache
and a captain's cap positioned such that it was unlikely he could
see straight ahead without tilting his head back considerably.
He was talking, and his deep, vibrant voice echoed around the
bridge.
    "--the Super Doubletalk Fortress One calling unidentified
skyscraper.  Identify yourself.  Repeat, identify yourself.
Over."
    "Sasha, open a channel."
    "Da!"  Sasha manipulated some controls.  The picture of the
captain on screen was replaced by a clapping Vanna White standing
next to the spinning Wheel of Fortune.
    "Not that channel!" Chance yelled.  "I mean, reply to his
signal!"
    "Oh.  Sorry."  Sasha punched some more keys, and Chance
sighed, mentally increasing the probability that she would
somehow hit the right combination.   The screen blinked out
again, and this time the captain appeared on it once more.
    "This is Chance Edward Vennt of the skyscraper Builtmore
Towers responding.  You've kind of caught us at a bad time,
Captain...this thing just took off on us and we're still trying
to figure out how it works and how to get back to Earth."
    "It just took off?  Without warning?" the captain asked.
    "Well, there was a ten minute warning, but we were too busy
with other things to figure out how to stop it, Captain...um..."
    "Captain Grovel, JSDF/Rotomech Defense Force, " Captain
Grovel supplied.  "I see.  Is there anything we can do?"
    "Thanks for the offer, Captain, but I think we're going to be
able to handle this situation ourselves."
    Grovel nodded, his Captain's hat obscuring his entire face
for a moment.  "I see.  Well, if you should change your mind,
we'll be on maneuvers in the vicinity of the Earth for the next
eight days.  You can contact us on this frequency."
    "Thank you, Captain--I really appreciate it."  Chance nodded.
"Okay, Sasha, cut signal."
    "Da, Captain."  Sasha Bordurov flipped a switch--and the
bridge lights went out.
    "Sasha!!!"

    Filmation, Claymation, and Jimmy Smathers emerged from the
turbolift in what had apparently been one of the shopping center
levels when Builtmore Towers had been a skyscraper.  Now it was
rearranged into a kind of common area.  And there were a lot of
angry people gathered in it.  They were all talking at once.
    "What the hell(tm) is going on here?!"
    "Where are we!"
    "What happened?!"
    "Who the **** are you?!"
    Filmation finally had to resort to a kind of amplified
reverberation of her voice (in the toonish tradition) to get
their attention.  "Hey!  If you would quiet down, I could explain
a few things!"  She waited a few moments until the chatter
stopped.  "Thank you," she continued in her normal voice.  "I'm
sorry about all this.  Apparently, this building turned into a
starship and took off into space."
    "You expect us to believe that?!" one voice from the crowd
yelled.
    "No, actually I don't.  However, I invite you to look out
your windows and consider what you see, and further, you can step
out an airlock if you want and I can guarantee you you'll believe
THAT."  This quieted everybody down a great deal.
    "If we're going to get back to Earth, we're going to need
volunteers," Claymation said.  "People we can count on to help us
run this ship and get it safely home."
    "Hey, we're on a starship?" Jimmy Smathers piped up, pressing
his nose against a nearby porthole.  "Really?!  Wow!  Can I be an
Acting Ensign?"
    "Shut UP, Jimmy," Filmation said.  "Anyway, we need your
help.  If you'd like to volunteer, come up to the bridge and
Captain Vennt will give you your assignments."
    "Who the hell(tm) is this Captain Vennt person?" one member
of the crowd piped up.  "What gives HIM the right to be Captain?
We don't even know him!"
    "He knows how to handle himself in situations like this,"
Filmation said.  "Unlike some of you.  And I trust him
completely.  If anyone can get us back to Earth, he can."
    "I say we should put it to a vote!" the dissenter yelled.
    "And _I_ say otherwise," Claymation replied, pounding one
large fist into the other equally-large hand.  "If any of you get
any notions about a mutiny, you'll have to get by me first."
    "We'll try not to interfere in your everyday lives as much as
possible," Filmation said.  "All we ask is that you give us a
chance to get you home."
    "All right, whatever..." the dissenter backed down.
    "But you'd better keep us informed!" someone else in the
crowd yelled.
    "You can count on that," Filmation replied.

    The three figures stood atop what looked at first like the
summit of a rough, craggy mountain.  The stars and galaxies
spread out all around them in a panorama that would have given
the best planetarium on Earth a run for its money.  These stars
did not twinkle, but shone with a clarity that was astounding,
and provided the only light for this scene.
    As the figures stood there, it became apparent that this was
not the tip of an ordinary mountain by any means.  For one thing,
the stars above and around them were moving, wheeling slowly in a
counterclockwise direction, and shadows cast by the brightest of
these were shifting around the figures accordingly.  For another,
the three figures were standing on planes that were somewhat less
than parallel to one another.  The figures were, in fact,
standing on a small asteroid.
    These three figures would look somewhat strange, by earthly
standards.  The first one was dressed in a kind of glittering
gold costume which looked like something right out of a Buck
Rogers film.  He had shoulder-length shaggy purple hair and was
wearing a wooden face-shaped mask with a chess pawn painted on
it.  The next was dressed mostly in black, with shaggy
medium-length black hair and large black sunglasses that made him
look extremely weird.  The third looked kind of like your average
British punk--dirty blond hair, leather jacket, chains and
spikes, the whole deal.
    "Welcome to wherever you are," the punk said in a slight
British accent.
    "I was barely able to make it," the dark-haired one said,
also with a slight British accent.  "For a while, it was touch
and go."
    The one with the purple hair and the chess piece face said,
"Let's hurry up and get this done, so we can get off this piece
of dirt."
    "We're all in agreement, then?" asked the dark-haired one.
    Purple hair nodded.  "I can no longer support what the
Council of Heads is doing.  Let us use our powers together to
summon someone who can help us put an end to it."
    "I'm ready to send a message, mate," the British punk said.
    "In that case, let's go," said the dark-haired one.  They
walked up to the summit of the asteroid, then joined hands in a
triangle, with purple hair to the left of dark hair to the left
of British punk to the left of purple hair.
    Purple hair begain the ritual, singing (to musical
accompaniment that seemed to come out of nowhere), "The world's
address--a place that's worn.  A sad pun that reflects a sadder
mess.  I'll repeat it for those who may not have already guessed.
The world's address."
    The British punk sang (and was similarly accompanied),
"That's why--you need.  Ooh, that's why--this is what you need,
I'll give you what you need, yeah!"
    The dark-haired one added (also to musical accompaniment), "I
guess you're just what I needed--I needed someone to please.  I
guess you're just what I needed--I needed someone to please."
    All the while they were singing, a light was growing around
them.  As the dark-haired one sang the last line, they released
their grasp and threw their arms upward, releasing the light and
letting it zoom off into the cosmos.
    "I guess that's it, then," the dark-haired one said.  "Once
it finds what we need, it will bring it back here."
    "I only hope it works," the purple-haired one said.  "Or we
could all end up really, really, really sad."
    "Can I drive you guys anywhere?" the dark-haired one asked.
    "Why not?  We're heading in the same direction," the British
punk said.
    "Let me off at Istanbul (Not Constantinople)," the chess
piece faced one said.
    "All right."  The threesome moved off toward the other side
of the asteroid, where what appeared to be a 1950s-vintage Earth
car was parked, and moments later, it took off into space.

    Captain Grovel was relaxing in his command seat once more.
At the moment, Grovel was very relaxed; one reason for the
precise placement of his large-brimmed Captain's cap was so that
he could, in theory, take little naps without any of the rest of
the bridge crew noticing.  (However, Captain Grovel was not aware
that he snored.)
    And so the bridge of the Super Doubletalk Fortress One was
completely quiet, save for Grovel's snores and the bridge crew's
giggles when the collision alarm went off.
    After prying his head loose from where it had lodged between
two conduits in the ceiling, Captain Grovel demanded, "Leeza!
Claudette!  What was that!"
    Claudette Granite, currently on-shift as SDF-1 Tactical
Officer, responded, "The collision alarm, sir."
    "I know THAT--what are we colliding with?!" Grovel snapped.
    Claudette punched some keys, snapped some switches, did her
nails, and reported, "Actually, sir, we're not.  It's some kind
of massive energy blast, but sensor reports say it's going to
miss us by about two hundred feet and hit the Builtmore Towers
skyscraper four hundred miles to our stern."
    "Oh, if THAT's all..."  Grovel relaxed in the seat for about
three seconds before double-taking, jumping upright, and yelling,
"Leeza!  Contact Builtmore Towers immediately and warn them!"
    Leeza Hades checked her console.  "It's too late, sir."  The
energy bolt hit the skyscraper-turned-starship, lightning
crackled around it momentarily, then it vanished completely.
"All sensor readings indicate the ship is...is GONE, sir!  Not a
trace, no debris, no nothing!"
    Grovel took it philosophically.  "Oh, well.  Better them than
us.  Steady as she goes, Shammie."  He relaxed in his seat, and
soon began to snore again.

    "I think I've finally figured out how to work these
controls," Sheri Brown aka Bubblegum Babe reported.  "It's a
nonstandard system, but the controls are simple enough once you
know what's what."
    "And you figured this out with your superior astronaut's
intuition?" Chance asked sarcastically.
    "Yeah.  And this."  She held up a thick looseleaf binder
labelled "Builtmore Towers Manual of Operation."
    "Argh.  Okay.  Well, see about getting us down, then."
    "All righty."  Sheri punched some keys.  "Any particular
location?"
    "How about back in Seattle?" Chance asked.
    "Okay...Hey, Kissy, how're you coming with that computer?"
    "I think I've about got it figured out," the perky
ex-Nintendo of America intern replied.  "It's some kind of
operating system I've never even heard of before, but at least it
operates logically."  She lowered her voice.  "Which is more than
I can say for our friend over there."  She jerked her head at Zen
Navigator, who seemed to be investigating the broom closet.
    "I heard that!"
    "Good.  See if you can access the transformation system.
Once we make our reentry, we'll need to revert to skyscraper mode
to touch down in our original position."
    "Okay, can do."  Kissy McCall started typing.
    Chance leaned against the railing of the command station,
looking down on the rest of the bridge.  It was strange, but
Chance had to admit it was a pretty good feeling, being in
command of a starship like this.  Even if he had next to no crew,
and knew hardly anything at all about how it worked, it was still
a pretty good feeling.
    "Captain!  Captain!"  It was Sasha Bordurov.  She seemed to
be upset about something, because she was jabbering frantically
in Russian.
    "Slow down, slow down!" Chance said.  "What is it?  In
English, please."
    "Big blip to be on scanner!" Sasha said.  "To hit us!"
    "What?"  Chance glanced at the scanner panel himself.  Sure
enough, something was headed for the ship quite rapidly.  So
rapidly, in fact, that there wasn't even time for him to decrease
the probability that it would hit them.
    KA-THWAM!!!  The entire ship shook, and gravity momentarily
turned itself upside down.  Lightning crackled all over the ship,
and then there was a blinding flash and everything went dark.


                          WHAT HAPPENED?

                     WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO?

           WHO WERE THOSE ODD PEOPLE ON THAT ASTEROID?

   WILL THIS HAVE ANY FAR-REACHING CONSEQUENCES FOR THE CREW OF
                        BUILTMORE TOWERS?

        WILL CAPTAIN GROVEL EVER FIND OUT THAT HE SNORES?


  TUNE IN, FOR ANOTHER EXCITING ADVENTURE WITH CRAPSHOOT & CO.,
               WHENEVER IT NEXT COMES OUT, ONLY ON


                           SUPERGUY!!!


(For those of you wondering what the reference in Crapshoot & Co.
#13's title was, here it is.  "Who's Minding the Mint?" is the
name of a 1966 movie comedy starring Jim Hutton, Dorothy Provine,
Joey Bishop, Bob Denver, Milton Berle, Walter Brennan, Victor
Buono, and Jack Gilford.  The plot is that a young mint employee
must break into the mint after hours to print $50,000 to make up
for the money he accidentally destroyed--and he needs the help of
a rather dubious assortment of slightly odd people.  If you're
interested, you can probably find it at Wal-Mart in the discount
tapes rack for under $10.00.)

--
Chris Meadows          | Robotech_Master's First Law of Superguy:
CHM173S@NIC.SMSU.EDU   | Continuity is Overrated.
CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU | Robotech_Master's Corollary: ...but sometimes
CMEADOWS@NOX.CS.DU.EDU | necessary all the same.