Uproarious laughter disturbed the spaceport, where a group of raucious miscreants, some human, some not, had recently disembarked from their spacecraft and invaded the otherwise peaceful confines. They jabbered as they advanced down the corridor towards the bar.
“No really, think about it guys. Steve’s got his missing thumb, or doesn’t got it, either way, hey Steve, do you feel a phantom thumb?” Steve gave a thumbs down, but the gesture lacked something.
“No, but I can almost feel your soft neck, choked beneath my good thumb,” he said, reaching out in mock aggression.
“err, ok, how about, Glen, how did you lose your left eyeball?
“A glubrious sporlak melfed me.” Glen slapped himself hard in the face and pertended to wrestle his arm.
“Not a line you’d use to pick up a woman, I dare say! Moving on, where are your legs, Blobra?” The instigator held up an imaginary microphone to the purple pile of spooge oozing down the hallway that was their ships navigator.
“What legs?” the purple creature belched.
"Badum, ching! My point exactly. We’re all grossly disfigured. Look at Ronjon with that sour, ugly, car crash face. How’d your face get like that, Ronny?” He held up the "mic" to Ronjon's twisted mouth.
“Well I started talking to this guy about his ugly face, and before I knew it, I got my ass clobbered.” Ronjon took a hard swing at his tormenter, who darted deftly out of the way.
“Ok, well, I didn’t mean it, you ugly screwball."
They all rolled their eyes simulataneously, as though watching a space rat run up one wall and down the other. The presence of this one man made their space travels either greatly entertaining or irritating as hell, often enough it depended on how hung over they were on any given day.
“No really, think about it guys. Steve’s got his missing thumb, or doesn’t got it, either way, hey Steve, do you feel a phantom thumb?” Steve gave a thumbs down, but the gesture lacked something.
“No, but I can almost feel your soft neck, choked beneath my good thumb,” he said, reaching out in mock aggression.
“err, ok, how about, Glen, how did you lose your left eyeball?
“A glubrious sporlak melfed me.” Glen slapped himself hard in the face and pertended to wrestle his arm.
“Not a line you’d use to pick up a woman, I dare say! Moving on, where are your legs, Blobra?” The instigator held up an imaginary microphone to the purple pile of spooge oozing down the hallway that was their ships navigator.
“What legs?” the purple creature belched.
"Badum, ching! My point exactly. We’re all grossly disfigured. Look at Ronjon with that sour, ugly, car crash face. How’d your face get like that, Ronny?” He held up the "mic" to Ronjon's twisted mouth.
“Well I started talking to this guy about his ugly face, and before I knew it, I got my ass clobbered.” Ronjon took a hard swing at his tormenter, who darted deftly out of the way.
“Ok, well, I didn’t mean it, you ugly screwball."
They all rolled their eyes simulataneously, as though watching a space rat run up one wall and down the other. The presence of this one man made their space travels either greatly entertaining or irritating as hell, often enough it depended on how hung over they were on any given day.
Very funny! Shades of Douglas Adams. My favorite line: "Steve gave a thumbs down, but the gesture lacked something." Great imagination! Love how one line from a diner patron inspired this!
ReplyDeleteVery unique conversation.. it was weird, but it was obviously meant to be that way. I liked when Ronjon says that he got his face that way by making fun of someone else's face. I'm sure this could definitely spark a shorty story.. like Tiffany said it interesting how a line from one man inspired this whole conversation between creatures in space.
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