Dienecian@hotmail.com

LET’S GET FRELLED : And then there was… ass.

By: Diene, Iden, Ty, and Doug.

Rating: R…Well, if you read the last one (Let's Get Frelled: The Half-A$$ed Beginning), you know damn straight why.

Disclaimer: I still don’t own Farscape, the Characters, (cuz Jim Henson and USA networks got them), the English language, or this font, nor anything else in existence.

Summery: I don’t want to give it all away, but just as a tantalizing glimpse, it involves drugs, sex, three Taiwanese whores, the Nesquick bunny and YOUR MOM.

Warnings: If I tell you the warnings, you probably won’t read. So…be afraid. This is almost as “wrong” as is funny.
Iden: I’m not scared.
Diene: You will be… you wiiiiilllll beeee.

Spoilers: Well Duh. Also see first one.

Archiving: Ask me first.

Iden, Diene, and Bob sat in their usual place on Tier 6. The cargo bay had been upgraded for comfort with a mini-fridge and a microwave. In the far corner, cans of Chef Boyardee and Easy-Mac stack high to the ceiling. Small gift wrapped boxes littered the floor at the center of the trio.

The Moya crew strolled into the bay, rested and ready for another day of the unknown. Diene looked up, “Good. It’s about time you got here.”

Chiana plopped herself down next to Iden. “What’s with the boxes?”

“Well, the abridged version is we’re screwed from when you killed two thirds of all our guests last time,” Iden began. “So we need some quick cash.”

A crooked grin stretched across Bob’s face. “So we’re jumping on the franchise band wagon with…merchandise!”

“What?” John shook his head. “You’re kidding, right? Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

Diene clenched her teeth as her eyes met John’s in an icy stare. “Does it look like we’re kidding?”

“Anyway,” Iden continued. “We would like to show you the prototypes before they’re released for sale. Ok?” The crew nodded. “Diene get the first box.”

Diene picked up a box and opened it. It was a stuffed John doll in the IASA flight suit. John grinned and pointed to the doll. “Cool. That’s me. What does it do?”

Bob smirked. “Well, it’s a tickle-me-John doll.” Diene squeezed the doll and Elmo’s laughter filled the bay. “As you can see, we couldn’t afford the real voice, so we just…well…cut and paste.”

Aeryn pushed forward and knelt in front of Diene and the box. “Where’s mine?” Iden nudged a box toward Aeryn. She picked it up and opened it. It was a plain everyday G.I. Aeryn action doll. “So what does it do?”

“Well, Nothing.” Diene answered.

Aeryn’s eyes flared. “What do you mean NOTHING!?”

Diene put her hands up like a robber would to an armed cop. “We…Well. It’s not all bad. She has a … uhm… a fifty gun expansion kit.” She held out another box to the Sebacean who ripped it from the writer’s hands.

“Yo, Iden.” John interrupted, not wanting Aeryn to decapitate the writer. “There’s a ‘my side, your side’ bumper sticker on your box.”

Diene nodded. “Yup. More merchandise. We also have ‘Don’t make me tongue you’ and ‘Obviously we hit something’.”

Diene picked up another box and pulled out a D’Argo action figure. “Oh man. You’ll love this. Bob, stand over there.” Bob walked to where Diene was pointing. She smiled and pushed a button on the doll’s back. A tongue shot out and hit Bob at the throat. Bob dropped to the ground.

D’Argo took the doll from Diene. “WOW!! How did it do that?” The Luxon asked, amazed.

“We found it. That’s why it is so much cooler than the rest.” Iden explained before adding quietly. “Even though most of the materials were found at a toxic waste dump or New Jersey.”

“What was that?” D’Argo asked. Iden simply hummed nonchalantly and D’Argo was too intrigued with his doll to really care.

Aeryn grabbed the doll from the Luxon, now holding one in each hand. “Why the HELL is his doll so much better than mine?” she said shaking the D’Argo figurine at Diene.

“It’s really not.” Diene said, calmly. “I mean, the tongue is radioactive and prolonged exposure to it-” she pointed at Bob. “See exhibit A - is not good.”

Aeryn relaxed, well, at least a bit. “So D’Argo’s has a weapon and mine…”

“Has revealing yet militaristic clothing.” Iden finished.

“Check this out.” Diene held up another box, interrupting this time before Aeryn could draw her weapon. “Chia-Zhaan.” She pulled out the clay head. “See just add water. Oh, and you have to put a little meat in with the water so it doesn’t attack you. We even were able to make everything blue and green and stuff. You know – Blue Blooming Bush, and all.”

“But we seem to have some problems with the Chiana doll.” Diene continued. She held up the action figure Chiana doll. A leg fell off. “It would be a good idea, however the legs keep falling off. They must be too loose or something.”

BUH DUHN CH

The crew looked to the back of the bay to see Tommy Chong sitting at a drum set.

“What the…” John started

Iden laughed. “It’s nothing. That’s just the rim shot guy.”

Tommy Chong nodded. “Yeah man.” He raised a blunt to his mouth and inhaled. “It’s all cool, man.”

“Ehhhhhhhemmmm.”

“Oh yeah.” Diene realized. “Guest Stars.”

“Since we are so poor,” Iden continued.

“How poor are you?” Bob yelled.

Bob is given a look then knocked out again by the D’Argo doll. Aeryn looked at the doll in her hand. “You know, on the other hand, this is really great.”

“Anyway,” Iden continued. “We are so poor from yesterday’s shenanigans that we can’t afford, well, real people. So we have animation. I would like you to meet Vash the Stampede from the cult anime TRIGUN, Misty the Pokèman chick, Jessica Rabbit, and the surprise guest under the sheet.”

Vash stood and walked around his chair to stand in front of the crew. His blonde spiked hair and red leather trench coat wavered in an unknown wind. He positioned his right hand over his gun, as if ready for a draw. Tumbleweed rolled between the space separating him from the crew. John looked at the tumbleweed then back to Diene. “What the hell was that?”

“Just settin’ the mood.” Diene said matter-of-factly.

John put his hands on his hips. “That’s nice. But where did it come from?”

“Same place that did.” Diene said pointing at a horse tied to a water trough.

John simply shook his head in disbelief.

“What are you doing?” D’Argo yelled. Vash did not move nor answer. “Answer me. Who are you?” No response.

Diene stood up and pushed through the crew. “Yo, Vash.” She whistled and waved her pen in the air as if to get his attention.

Vash started then nodded his head. He pulled off his sunglasses and removed the earphones from his ear. A techno-pop music filled the bay. “Sorry guys. Couldn’t hear you, I had this music playing so loud and all. What were you sayi...” He turned and saw Jessica Rabbit uncross her legs then cross. His tongue fell to the floor and his eyes became slits as little hearts popped around his head.

“Oh no you don’t.” Diene bounded forward grabbing Vash by the collar before he could pounce. Vash reached for Jessica but with no success. Diene was already dragging him back. “Tie him up for now.” She tossed him to Aeryn who quickly followed through. Diene snickered as Aeryn tied his hand behind his back then tied his ankles.

The crew looked at Misty who was holding a red and white ball in her right hand. “What’s that?” Chiana asked.

“I’m Misty. And this is my pokèball.” She threw the ball to the ground and a star like creature appeared. “See.”

A gunshot.

The creature fell. Misty let out a cry and ran to her fallen friend. The crew turned to see Diene holding her Desert Eagle, the barrel smoking. “What?” She put the gun down and continued writing.

(Author’s note: For more pokèman killing and other funny stuff, see: http://machall.keenspace.com )

“Diene, you shot the starfish?” Iden asked, disbelieving.

“Reflexes.” She answered.

“But…but you shot the starfish.” Iden said again.

Diene looked to Iden. “Jeez man. What are you, the new representative for PETA?”

“You realize we are going to be assassinated by about two billion screaming kids.” Iden said, oddly calm.

“Excuse me,” Jessica said in that breathy voice so typically hers. “Your males need help lifting their jaws off the floor.”

John and D’Argo stood slightly hunched; their mouths open, gawking. Diene snickered to herself. “I knew John had been quiet a little too long.” Chiana strolled to D’Argo and shut his mouth with her index finger. Aeryn, on the other hand, was… well… how should this be stated…peeved.

John’s view was obstructed when a familiar leather figure stood in his direct line of sight. He shut his mouth and straightened his posture, meeting her jealous eyes, then grinned. “Hey, Baby. Have I told you lately how amazingly beautiful you are?”

“Smooth cover, John,” Iden said sarcastically.

“Whoa. Hang up. No bloodshed yet.” Diene said before Aeryn could remove John’s Adams apple. “And Jessica, stop instigating.”

Jessica stood and walked closer to the crew, her hips swaying rhythmically. “Well, I’m not bad. I’m just draw…”

“Yeah Yeah. We know. Drawn that way.” Iden nudged Diene. “Come on. Get to the sheet.”

Diene looked at the box. “What are you doing?”

“I’m nudging you.” The box said.

“Oh. Stop that.” Diene walked over to the sheet and pulled it off. A cartoon seven-foot green robot stood tall. “Everyone, this is John Dear.” She said, standing on a chair to rest her elbow on its shoulder.

“What is he supposed to be?” John asked.

“Well since our budget is nil, we couldn’t afford Optimus Prime or Megatron.” Diene covered the robot’s ears. “So we settled for a second rate transformer.” She whispered

“What does he do?” D’Argo asked.

Diene patted John Dear’s arm. “It’s ok. Go ahead.” She slowly backed away and stood next to Crichton.

John cocked his head. “What’s the hold up?” He whispered watching the robot grind the ball of his foot into the ground.

“Just give him some time.” Diene answered just as quietly. “He has a slight inferiority complex.”

Crichton looked back to Diene. “Wait. Did you just say a transformer has an inferiority complex?”

Diene shrugged. “You can do it.” She called.

The robot morphed. After the cracking and grinding ceased, the animated transformation was complete.

“Diene, you are insane aren’t you.” John said looking at the robots new form.

“What?” She answered artlessly. “So he’s a lawn mower.”

“That’s right.” John Dear said. “I am a stupid, run of the mill, piece of crap lawn mower.”

“Oh, but not just any lawn mower.” Iden encouraged. “You’re a GS75 17 horse power 54 inch deck walk behind mower.”

“What are you smoking?” Dear said. “In my robot form, there’s more HP in my Pinkie.”

Diene walked towards the mower. “Don’t sell yourself short – Aeryn grab Vash. He’s inching towards Jessica again – You’re a great Transformer.” Aeryn walked to Vash’s inching form, grabbed his collar and threw him back against the wall.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Dear said as he puttered off to a corner to sulk.

“Can we pleeeeaaaase get a move on.” Jool demanded. “Let’s get this…” she mouthed the words but no sound. She tried to scream. Nothing. Diene snickered.

“What’d you do?” Chiana asked.

“Nothing. Nothing.” Diene said, refusing to make eye contact.

Rygel eyed the writer. “What do you mean? Not that I’m complaining that she can’t…”

“Hey, Fuzzy.” Diene said. “Do you want laryngitis too?”

Rygel shut his mouth and quickly moved his chair from the writer’s sight. Diene elbowed John. “Hey. You wanna see somethin’ funny?” John nodded. She positioned John and D’Argo so they stood completely blocking the box’s view of any female. Diene sat on the box. “Oh My God!” she exaggerated. “Jessica, put your clothes back on.”

John snickered then followed suit. “Oh Damn, Sunshine. I never knew you could bend that way.”

“Hey Guys!” The box unsuccessfully tried to hop forward. “I can’t see. What’s going on?” Chiana giggled. Aeryn picked up a crate, slammed it to the ground then cried out. “Dude, guys. I can’t see.”

Bob pushed past the crowd. “What are you talking about, Diene? There’s no lesbian orgy.”

“BOB!!!!”

Iden was still. Diene hopped off the box and laughed. Iden turned to face Diene. “You did not just do that.” The box hopped closer as Diene chuckled. “GOD DAMN IT!!! BRIIIIICK!” Bob threw a brick to the box.

Diene stepped back. “Whoa there, Iden. There’s no need for...”

THUMP

The brick hit Diene between the eyes. She fell to the ground.

Zhaan ran to Diene’s side. “By the goddess, you have killed her.” Aeryn grabbed Diene’s other arm and helped Zhaan prop her against the wall. Blood trickled down her face from the newly forming bump on her forehead.

D’Argo grabbed Vash’s inching form once again and threw him into the wall.

The box hopped towards Zhaan. “Nah. Don’t worry about it. She’ll be fine. She’s been hit so many times; she’ll be out of it in no time.” Jool wiped the blood from her face while Aeryn and Jessica knelt at the writer’s feet. John stood with D’Argo a few feet behind, getting a fantastic view of Jessica Rabbit. “Guys. Don’t panic.” Iden reassured. “We just need the notebook and we’ll move along.”

Chiana, John, and D’Argo looked around where Diene fell. John walked over to the box. “Uhm, Iden. Problem. No book. No Bob.”

The box jumped around frantically. “No No NO NO NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” Iden stopped right beside John. “Not Good. Not Good. Bob is…ahhhhh. This is not good.”

Aeryn stood up and walked towards John. “Look all we have to do is split up and…” She paused noticing John and D’Argo’s eyes glaze over, tracing the curves of her body. She looked down at herself. “CRICHTON.” She demanded. “What the frell is this?”

John tilted his head to the left, his mouth slightly opened. “Oh God, Baby.” He blinked then shook his head as if it would clear his thoughts. It didn’t. “That’s a thong bikini.”

Chiana stepped towards Aeryn looking at her own matching suit. “Isn’t this swimming attire for your females, Crichton?”

Aeryn shifted her weight. “Your females swim in this?”

“Uh…that’s not the point.” Iden mumbled. John and D’Argo grunted in agreement. Vash made his feeble attempt at inching towards the two.

Jessica stood, revealing her own new attire. “Well stop gawking and find that notebook.”

D’Argo’s jaw dropped. John’s eyes widened. “Oh damn, I haven’t seen lingerie like that since…”

Aeryn put her hands on her waist, and leaned into her hip. “Now if you would listen I have an idea. We need to split up and get this notebook back. Diene had Pilot put a tracking device on Bob in case of such an emergency. We…” Aeryn cocked an eyebrow at John. “Hey.” No answer. “CRICHTON!!”

“Oh sorry Baby. It’s just…” John smiled and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, when you’re standing like that.”

“Mmmm. I see.” Aeryn walked until she was face to face with John, her body inches from his. His gaze slid down. “John, I’m up here.” He quickly looked up into her eyes.

“Huh? What?” John felt lightheaded and D’Argo was still in shock. Chiana ran to one of the crates and pulled out two long cloaks. She gave one to Jessica, and threw the other to Aeryn.

Aeryn draped the cover over herself. “Ok so now we go and get the book, agreed?” No answer. “JOHN!”

“Oh yeah…agreed.” John sniffed and shook his head. He took one last glance over Aeryn’s body, knowing exactly what was underneath despite the impeding cover, then looked to Zhaan. “How is she?”

Zhaan looked up at John. “She has a concussion. It’s not serious but I don’t know how long she’ll be out. Jool and I will stay here, you go after the book.”

“Right.” John stopped as something hard hit him on the head. “What the…” He stretched out his hand. “Iden, why is it raining lemon drops and gum drops?”

“Do I really have to answer that?” Iden responded.

“Right. Bob.” John turned to his group. Vash was yet again slowly inching towards Jessica. John grabbed the collar and threw him back again. “Ok. We go but stick together, ok?”

Everyone nodded.

John walked out of the bay followed by the rest of the crew. “Yo, Pilot. We need to find Bob. Where is he?”

“Moya’s sensors indicate he is in the corridor with you.” Pilot answered.

Chiana shook her head. “No he’s…” Bob whizzed by, wearing chaps and Cowboy boots, hooting and hollering riding a huge DRD while holding on with only his right hand. His other swung a brown leather Cowboy hat. “…not.”

John shook his head. “My God, he’s riding Bumper DRD’s, Rodeo style”

D’Argo drew his Qualta blade. “I know how to stop him.”

Aeryn reached for her gun. No gun. “Where’s…”

John grinned. “Uh…there’s really not a place for you to hold it.”

Aeryn growled and stomped down the hall in Bob’s direction. Everyone snickered and followed Aeryn. They stopped just outside the galley.

BANG!

CRASH!

The crew started. D’Argo stepped into the room. “John.”

“What?” Crichton answered.

D’Argo sneered. “No, not you. John, the other green thing.”

The crew stepped inside to see the transformer digging around. “Oil. Damn it. I need oil.”

Misty laughed. “There’s no oil in here, silly. This is the kitchen.” The transformer turned.

Crichton held back a laugh. “Uhm…Dear. Why you wearin’ an apron?”

The transformer put his hands on his waist and spoke with the thickest Italian accent. “I can’t find any olive oil. I have the most fantastic recipe for Creamy Tortellini Chicken Primavera. It’s Magnifique.” He kissed his fingers then returned to his rummaging.

Rygel hovered into the room. “Ah. This must be a delicacy. Maybe I can be of some assistance.” Rygel hovered over toward one of the many cupboards.

John rolled his eyes and exited followed by D’Argo and Aeryn. Chiana hesitated. “I think I’ll help with the food preparation.”

D’Argo shrugged. “Ok. We’re down to four people.”

“Four!” John shouted. “What do you mean four? Where’s Jessica?”

John’s COM sprung to life. “Hey, John. It’s Iden. Have you seen Vash?”

“What do you mean ‘Have I seen Vash’?” John yelled. “He’s supposed to be with you.”

“Yeah, well. Oops.” Iden said. “I have some more important things on my mind right now.” The box hopped quickly down the corridor in which they were standing.

“Iden, you…” D’Argo’s voice trailed off as Iden never broke stride, or the closest thing a box could do to stride, and continued out of sight.

John pursed her lips then cocked his head. “Iden, why are you running…” just then, 100 chickens charged down the hall after Iden. “…from an army of Rhode Island Chickens.”

“CHICKENS.” The transformer ran into the hall and pointed down the corridor. “I need ten of those.” He ran off after the hens.

No one moved.

Silence.

…

John shifted his weight. “Ok, verify. Everyone just saw a cardboard box being chased by chickens being chased by a 7 foot green robot in an apron, right?”

Everyone nodded, their mouths gaping.

John shrugged. “Ok. Just checking.” He walked off in the other direction.

The crew moved onto the twenty-third tier and into a cargo bay where Bob’s signal was last traced. The crates and boxes were stacked high. The crew spread out and searched the bay. “Psst.”

John stopped and looked around. “What the…” John’s eyes wandered over the crates.

“Psst. Over here. John.”

Crichton walked towards one of the boxes. “Iden.” He found the cardboard box huddled amongst many.

“Shhhhh.”

“What are you doing?” John whispered.

“Family Reunion.” Iden said, sarcastically. “What the frell does it look like I’m doing? That frelling poultry. Are they in here?”

John looked around. “Nobody here but us chickens.” He jested then looked to Chong waiting for the rim shot to sound.

“No way, man.” Chong shook his head. “Even I have standards, man.” With that Chong glanced back at the magazine of animal porn slung over one of the drums.

The box shuddered then jumped to the ground. Nothing attacked. “Good. So have you found…”

“CCCCLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK”

Iden froze. The chickens ran out from their hiding places amid the crates. They had bandanas and camo beak paint. “Oh Shit. I’ve been spotted”, the box said in his best British accent, a one way retreat was made for the door and he hopped down the hall. The chickens followed suit letting out war clucks.

Yet again, shock overwhelmed the crew. The transformer stuck his head in the door. He was carrying an ax and a large bag. His salt and peppershaker accessory features stuck out of his chest. “Where’d they go?”

John’s mouth opened and shut repeatedly but in vain. “That way.” Aeryn said, pointing down the halls.

The crew reorganized and headed back down the corridor. “Pilot, any idea where Bob is now?” D’Argo asked. No answer. “Pilot.”

“My apologies, Ka D’Argo. It is just…” Pilot paused. “Commander, will you come to my den, quickly.”

“Of course, Pilot. We all will.” John nodded to the rest of the crew and headed for Pilot’s den.

The crew approached the doors slowly. “Ahhhhh. God, NO!” they heard pilot cry.

Startled, everyone drew their weapon. John nodded. “On three, ok?” he whispered. “One, Two, Three.” They charged in.

“My God.”

John skidded to a hault, the others bumping behind him. Iden was trapped against Pilot’s panel, the chickens all surrounding him, holding wings, in blockade formation. “Ahhhh. Guys. HELP!!”

“Cluck, cluck…cluck, scratch, scratch. Cluuuuuuck.” And with that the leader chicken drew his wing across it’s throat.

“Oh shit, I know you just didn’t mean that…” Iden pleaded.

Misty jumped forward. “Don’t worry, my pokèman will take care of this.” She threw the ball onto the ground and out popped another star-like creature. “Attack!”

The chickens turned. “CLLUUUUUCK!” The battle cry echoed through the bay. The chickens attacked. The pokèman had no defense, no chance, the organized chickens mauled it. Scratching, pecking, flapping. The pokèman retreated out of the bay followed closely by the chicken army.

“NOOOOO!!!” Mysty screamed as she chased after them.

Aeryn and D’Argo ran to the box. “Are you ok?” she asked.

“Yeah. I guess so.” Iden said. The box crumpled and contorted, then returned to its normal shape.

“What the hezmanna was that?” D’Argo asked.

“Stretching.” Iden responded.

John walked to Iden, “Hey, Box. How you …”

Nine men dressed in blue and white striped outfits and wearing blue baseball caps walked into the den. A girl, about 12 years old, and wearing a long nightgown followed them. The group stood and stared at the crew for a few seconds. Then an upbeat song right out of the 40’s resounded throughout the room; the new group danced.

John shook his head, not believing the sight before him. He tapped his COM. “Hey, Bob. I know you can hear me. What the hell are you doing?”

Diene staggered into the den, holding her head, closely followed by Zhaan and Jool. “Holy Shit guys, that smarts. Where’s my book, man?” She leaned against the wall and looked up, the scene before her answering her own question.. “GOD DAMN IT, BOB! What the FRELL are you doing?” She stumbled forward towards the box and others. “It’s supposed to be FRED ASTAIR and GINGER ROGERS. Not LINDA BLAIR and the L.A. DODGERS. You know, Bob. You are so frelling stupid. Iden and I should have sacrificed you to the gods when we had the chance you worthless piece of…”

The lights flashed; the box, Diene, and some guy in jeans and a green long-sleeved shirt were floating outside of Moya in the vastness of space. “Dren.” She finished.

“Oh Shit.” The box hovered, yes, hovered, towards the other two. “Hey, Ty.”

“Hey Iden.” Ty said. “Hey Diene.”

“Hey Ty.” Diene replied.

(Ty’s Sidenote: Hey Iden.)

(Iden’s Sidenote: Hey Ty.)

(Ty’s Sidenote: Hey Diene.)

(Author’s Sidenote: Hey Ty.)

“So…”

“We’re in space.” She inhaled. “And I can breathe.” She rubbed her stomach and tensed. Then relaxed. “And I’m not imploding.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “And I think I’m going to be sick.” She swallowed hard. “AND I REMEMBER GETTING HIT WITH A BRICK!” She glared at Iden.

The box inched back. “Uh, that was an accident. Yeah, that’s it. But let by-gones be by-gones, right? We got bigger problems on our plate. Bob has the notebook.”

Diene shook her head. “Well that explains why we’re breathing and living. I mean, you know Bob watches the sci-fi shows that don’t obey physics.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Ty interrupted. “I’m just the fan service guy. What am I doing here?”

Iden shrugged. “I’ve got an idea of how to get back to Moya.” Diene glanced quizzically at the box. “Look, you have that spare pen, don’t you?” Diene nodded. “Good. So just write on my box. I mean you’re the writer. You should have the power to write anywhere you damn well please and it should work.”

Diene shrugged, unsure. “I guess so.” She dug through her pockets “Let me just find my…”

SPARE BLUE PEN

“What the hell was that?” Ty asked

“Oh. That’s just this cool little box I found. See.” She held a small black box out “You just talk into it and everything you say sounds…”

“LIKE IT’S GOD TALKING.” Diene smirked.

“Hey, let me try.” The box took the voice box. “I AM ALL POWERFUL AND ALL KNOWING FOR I AM JAKE HARBINGER OF 32 SOUTHWEST LANE IN CITRATE CAROLINA.”

“What?!” shouted Ty.

“Well… I think he’s all powerful and all knowing… last I checked anyway.”

Diene snatched the voice box back. “Gimme that.”

“Well you gotta write.” Iden continued, not caring about the lack of pen. “So can I just hold it.”

“No.” Diene continued to search but with no success. “Damn, no pen. I think I left it in the dictionary. It was holding the page for laryngitis.”

The three thought

…

…

“I got it!” Iden yelled. “Ok. At our current rate of drift, we will pass near the sun and the gravity will slingshot us out and away. However, with my calculations, we will miss Moya by about one mile. Luckily, the moon will be in exact position so we can slingshot around that as well. Naturally taking in the variable of Moya doing continuous loop-the-loops, we shall land ten meters into the bay next to the green crate but directly in front of the yellow one.” He reached for the God-box. “And I need that to finish the last part.”

Diene glared suspiciously then handed the box to Iden.

“MUAH HA HA HA HA…”

“Stop that.” The writer snatched the God-box from Iden. “And how long do you suppose this will take?”

“Well, according to my readings, forty three minutes and five seconds.” Iden explained.

“Wait a minute, readings?” Ty asked.

“Yeah. From my tricorder.” Iden said, gloating.

Diene rubbed her forehead then looked around. “Or we could just grab the ledge of the docking bay. Bob only expelled us two feet from the ship.”

“Ooooooooooooooh. But I did all these calculations.” Iden complained.

“But…”

“No No. Do you know how hard it was to quickly come up with those stats? I mean they had to be so precise it was…”

“Ok. If we agree, will you stop BITCHING!” Ty said.

Iden nodded.

“Fine.”

*** 42 MINUTES AND FIFTY EIGHT SECONDS LATER ***

Whoosh

Vroom

SWING AND …

SPLAT!

Iden landed safely in the bay as Diene and Ty hit the side of the ship. She shook off the second concussion and pulled herself into the docking bay, Ty close behind. “God damn it, Iden. Your calculations suck.”

“I’m sorry.” Iden said. “The calculations were made for three cardboard boxes of equal sizes and weight.”

Diene growled and stood up. “That’s the last time I ever follow through with one of your plans.” Ty and Diene ran out of the bay and down the corridor followed by the box, hopping close at heel. They ran (yes, the box is running, well more like bounding) into the cargo bay that they had adopted as their home.

The three looked around only to see John and D’Argo bound and gagged together in the middle of the floor. The box hopped forward. “Oh, Damn It.”

Ty pulled out his switchblade and cut the two loose. “Where are the others?”

Another feminine scream

D’Argo shrugged as he rubbed his reddened wrists. “I have no clue. But Bob is causing much more trouble then he’s worth.”

“Oh, Man. He even took the farting Helium Rygel doll and the dress up paper doll Harvey.” Iden said, inspecting the carnage of their once calmed cargo bay.

The sounds of gunshots, a pulse blast.

John grinned. “Well, I know where Aeryn is.”

“What about Vash and Jessica?” Iden inquired.

Diene’s eyes widened. “What do you mean Vash and Jessica?” Everyone exited the bay trying to escape Diene’s prying. “Come on, guys. What’s going on?”

John stopped abruptly and turned to look at Diene. “To make a long story short, there are chickens, thong bikinis, and a ballroom competition. So let’s stop it now, ok?”

Diene stared blankly at the human as they continued down the hall.

More pulse shots.

The box hopped next to Diene. “It’s really quite simple. You see he wrote Aeryn and Chiana to wear these thong bikinis. And damn were they hot. I mean you could see everything from their…”

“No. Stop.” Diene interrupted. “I don’t even want to know.” She shook her head as if to dispel the last statement from her memory. “Let’s just pick up the pace.” She jogged ahead towards the continuing screams.

The others caught up just as Diene ran into a Cargo bay on Tier 13. She looked around as the scantily clad Zhaan and Jool were tied together, an erotically dressed Aeryn rooted and straining to reach the pulse rifle that was just out of reach, and Bob chasing a barely covered Chiana around the bay. “BOB!! YOU SON OF A BITCH! What the FRELL are you doing?”

Bob stopped in mid run and looked at Diene. Chiana ran and hid behind Aeryn. Hell even a peacekeeper glued to the floor could put up a tough fight. (Hence, why she’s rooted). “How…” He put his hand at his side where a revolver sat in a holster. Diene assumed the same position, ready to duel upon the first draw. They glared at each other. Sweat glistened on Diene’s forehead. Bob’s stare didn’t falter.

THWAK

Bob fell to the floor, unconscious. Tommy Chong nodded holding the D’Argo doll. “Dude, man. This shit’s the shit, man.”

Diene grabbed her book then sat down between Ty and the box. “Ok. Moving on.” She cracked her knuckles and returned her attention to the page. “How long was I out?”

The box inched away. “Oh…about nine pages.”

“WHAT?!” Diene’s eyes widened. “OH GOD! There’s so much to do.” The entire crew gathered around awaiting instructions. “Ok. First, I gotta fix all this dren. HEY, GARY LARSON! COME GET YOUR CHICKENS.”

The writer of the Farside comics walked in, corralled his chickens then left. Diene nodded. “Good. And the dancers are blown out the air lock.”

VHOOSH

“K. And finally the clothes.” The crew lined in front of Diene. She tapped the pen on her chin. “I got it.”

She scribbled: The crew of Moya returns to their natural attire. The crew stood stark naked in front of Diene. “Hmmm. Not quite.”

She wrote again: The crew of Moya returns to the formal dress. The entire crew of Moya stood in front of Diene in ball gowns. “Nope. That’s not it, former.”

She wrote: The crew of Moya is clothed in their usual clothes. The crew returned to their most common outfit. Diene nodded.

Jool pointed towards the door. Zhaan nodded and looked towards the writer. “Diene, why is Iden leaving?”

The box hopped to the door. “Damn people and their ridiculous frelling ideas. Plot? What plot? I’ll give you plot. Son of a bitch.” He mumbled then exited.

“No time.” Diene hastily responded. “He’s leaving cuz he’s fed up since there’s no plot.”

“But doesn’t the fact that he’s leaving make plot?” John asked.

“Well yeah.” Diene said, continuing to write. “But you see there still is no plot, because the simple fact of him leaving does not necessarily make plot. So he’s leaving. And when he leaves, plot goes with him.”

“But that’s still plot.” John said. “Iden leaving is the plot. You know we got to get it back.”

Ty shook his head, “No not really. That’s why he’s leaving.”

John rubbed his forehead then let his hand drop to his side. “So what you’re saying is that since there’s no plot, Iden left. And, in essence, that makes plot. But it’s not, because the exact reason that Iden is leaving due to the lack of plot so in reality there is plot since Iden left because there is no plot which in turn creates plot but there really isn’t since he left.”

Diene grinned. “Exactly.”

John nodded. “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!”

“Yeah that’s great.” Diene said. “Now where’s that pokèman chick?”

D’Argo shrugged. “We have no clue. The chickens set off after her star thing and we haven’t seen her since.”

Bob stood up, glowing neon green. “That just proves that Chicken and Stars were never meant to be together.”

BUH DUHN CH

THWAK

Bob fell to the floor. Ty nodded, smiling, holding the D’Argo doll.

Diene shrugged. “That’s it. I mean my God, he just keeps getting up. For Cryin out loud can’t he just stay down. How bloody thick is his head that he keeps popping up like that? It’s unnatural, unhuman, unreal, ridiculous IT’S INSANE! How do I always get frelled over with people so damned stubborn those sons of…”

“DIENE!” John yelled. “RANTING.”

Diene growled. “Ok. So Anyway. Zhaan and D’Argo are in command. Chiana is gathering weapons in the bay. Jool is with Pilot. And Rygel, get the hell out of the way. Now Aeryn you’re dying in two scenes.”

“HEY!” Aeryn hollared. “Again!”

“Well, yeah. But I have no time to explain.”

The scene flashed to Zhaan and D’Argo standing in Command looking at a large stack of papers. D’Argo flipped through the pages. “Frell. How much longer until we come back?”

Zhaan rested a hand on the Luxons shoulder. “Do not fluster yourself. We will no doubt return soon.”

The scene flashed to Rygel stuffing his face in the galley. “Frelling yotzs. I’m never allowed in a scene. Nobody ever frelling lets me stay around. Well, yozt to all them.”

The scene flashed back to the bay. Aeryn waved her hands at the writer. “What the frell was that. You don’t have to…”

And with that Aeryn disappeared.

John’s jaw dropped. “Where…WHERE’S SHE, DIENE!”

“Don’t worry.” She reassured. “Look, there’s Aeryn on the clamshell. HEY VASH!” Vash squirmed across the floor just outside the door of the bay. “WHERE’S JESSICA?”

He stopped in mid-squirm. “Uhm. I have no clue.”

“Oh, ok.” Diene said as the three remaining turned their attention to the shell. Of course behind their backs, Vash continued inching past, pulling a large potato sack with some sort of large kicking object inside.

(Ty note: And no, people, it is not kittens, maybe puppies, but not kittens.)

Aeryn stood on a sandy desert with three suns. One thousand flying clawed reptilian creatures flew her way from the north which was all about pitch black. “DIENE!!!” She screamed.

“Yeah. I know.” Diene said calmly. “Don’t worry about it. Just fight them off or find a place to hide before the suns finish setting.”

“WITH WHAT? HOW? WHERE?” she shouted back. “DON’T I AT LEAST GET A WEAPON.”

“Oh yeah.” Diene realized and wrote. Aeryn held out her hand. And in her hand materialized…her own shoe. Aeryn looked down to see one bare foot digging into the sand and her other foot still booted.

John stared at Diene. “You’re not serious.” However that smirk on Diene’s face was all the answer he needed. He looked back at the screen to see the creatures swarming towards her as the last sun set.

Diene choked back a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m not done, yet.” She scribbled and in Aeryn’s other hand materialized…a string of blinking Christmas lights.

In the typical ‘Blair Witch’ style, a camera shot at an upwards angle. Aeryn looked into the lens, her choked up voice sounded, “I am so…” She glanced behind her then to the camera. “PISSED! What the FRELL is wrong with you guys? Are you yotzs nuts? And get this hunk of dren out of my face.” She pushed the camera to the side, looking at the cameraman. “AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU? What the frell is going on?” She looked back into the camera, rage etched into her features. “DIENE, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.”

“Uh huh.” Diene said. “That’s enough of that.” She wrote. “Let’s try ten minute lapse on those lights.”

BLACKOUT

“Oh my God!” The cameraman turned the camera on himself. The lens must have been equipped with night vision, because the clam shell still picked up a visual. “They’re gnawing on her limbs. And now they’re dislocating her hips.”

CRACK

“Oooooooooo. That must be the most PAINFUL thing ever. She’s still trying to hit them back with the shoe.”

RIP

“Aghhhhhhhhh. That one hurt ME. Ok she’s not moving. They’re swarming. It’s all over, folks. OH SHIT!! They’re going after the boom operator. RUN, PHIL. RUN. Oh God! It’s too late. They’re pummeling Phil. Oh the carnage. Now they’re tearing his shoulders from their sockets.”

POP

“Owwwwwwwww. Come on, Phil. Pick up that arm and hit ‘em. Holy crap. They’re feeding on him now. NO!”

SHREAD

“HOLY SHIT! Those friggin’ things are skinning Phil. Uh oh. They must be sick of his taste. They’re turning on me. OH SHIT!!”

POUNCE

“Ahh GOD! No. NOT the spleen. ANYTHING BUT THE SPLEEN!”

TEAR.

“Oh Jesus. I had plans for that organ, plans I tell you, such wonderful plans. DAMN! OWWWWWWWWW! They’re ripping my internal organs from me. Oh shit. Now they’re…”

SUCK

“AHHHHHHHH. Now they’re jamming straws, the twisty top kind, into me and drinking my blood. Holy Christ. Help me! HELP ME! SOMEBODY. THEY’RE MOVING ONTO MY KIDNEYS!”

YOINK

“Owwwwwwww. Damn I know I don’t need both, but God! Shit! They’re swarming again. GOD DAMN IT! STAY BACK! Ow…..oooo…..gaghhhhhhh. AHHHHHHHH”

THUMP

The cameraman spoke, weeping. “Oh the Humanity! They’re hitting me with pool noodles. Ow. Ow. Stop that.”

CRUNCH

“MY GOD! They ripping my ribs out one at a time and poking me with them, poking I tell you, poking!”

CLIP

“Oh no. Stop. GOD, HELP ME. They’re clipping my nails too close to the pink.”

CLEAVE

“AHHHHHHHHHH! THEY JUST CUT OFF MY…”

CLICK

Ty switched off the transmission. “Ok. That’s enough of that.” He walked back over to Diene. “By the way. Since when did we have a camera crew?”

Diene glanced at Ty. “If CNN calls, I’m not here.” She whispered.

John mouth hung gaping. “Is she dead?”

“I think that’s a given, John.” Ty answered.

John fell to his knees. “You did it again, Diene.” He shook his head, disbelieving the events that just unfolded before his eyes. “I can’t believe you did it again.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. It’s fan service.” Diene explained.

“What? No its not.” John said on the verge of tears.

Ty nodded. “Sure it is. Look, fans want to see you and Aeryn together, right.” John nodded. “So what better way to stimulate a relationship then tragedy? Hell, you two flourish under tragedy. You’re about to die on a false earth, defining moment. You’re on the verge of insanity, defining moment. She dies and returns, BIIIIIIIIG defining moment. Close call with Budong, even BIIIIIIIIIIGGER defining moment. Well that wasn’t really you but it was still a John as opposed to the ‘not him’ John but that doesn’t matter cuz it was still a J/A defining moment, see. Defining moments equal John and Aeryn relationship equals what fans want. Got it?”

John’s teary eyes met his. “NO!!”

“Oh don’t worry. She’ll be back.” Diene said. Her tone changed to something more demonic and sinister. “In your dreams to haunt you for all time, John Crichton.” His eyes widened with fear. Diene laughed. “Just kidding, buddy.”

Misty walked into the bay carrying her injured pokèman almost crying. “It’s dying. It’s almost dead. Please, Diene, help it.”

Diene walked over to her and gently picked up the Pokèman and brought it back to her seat. She laid it on the floor and looked at John. She shrugged and pulled out her Desert Eagle. “Alright.”

“NO!” John yelled holding his hand out to block her aim. “What are you doing? She said help.”

Diene nodded. “Yeah, I am. Acupuncture.”

“You mean Bloodletting.” Ty said.

“Shhhhhhhh!” Diene ordered. She looked at John almost accepting his asking her not to shoot, then at Ty who was just nodding approvingly. “Sweet.” She pulled the trigger. Well, a fifty caliber handgun is mighty powerful. Let’s just say the starfish was…well, dispersed. “Oops. Those damned reflexes.”

D’Argo, Zhaan, and Chiana walked slowly in dragging a large heavy crate behind them. Diene ran to help the crew. “Good, it’s about time.” They brought the crate to the center of the room.

John pointed at the crate. “What’s that for?”

Chiana shrugged. “I have no clue. It was marked ‘Drag Me’ so I did. I found it in the docking bay. Although I don’t know what all these paper sticky things are on it.”

“Finally. It’s here.” Diene grinned as she walked towards the crate with a crowbar to open it. She approached and shoved the end under the lock to pry it open. The lock broke. “I have been waiting for this for over three years. And finally, I have it. This, my friends, contains the greatest things known to man. Inside are four light sabers, ten R2 units, about three score of battle droids, and a Yogurt.”

John cocked his head. “You mean the guy from Space balls?”

Diene shook her head. “No I mean the Dannon strawberry kind.” She said seriously.

Just then the crate popped open. The transformer stood up holding a frying pan and a large meat cleaver. “NOW I’VE GOT YOU, SWINE CHICKEN.” But when he noticed no chickens he lowered his weapons. “Damn It.”

Diene’s mouth dropped. “My…my stuff. Where’s my stuff?”

The transformer climbed out of the crate. “Oh you mean that metal crap that was in here.” He plopped to the ground. “I jettisoned that stuff when I decided this would be a great place to hide to hunt the chickens.”

Diene’s shoulders slumped and her eyes narrowed. “You…you dispelled my…Oh you did not. You did not just do that.” The Moya crew slowly inched away; perfectly aware of how extreme Diene could be at moments like this. Her fists turned white as she clenched. Trickles of blood slowly dripped from her hand, a sign of just how hard her nails were digging into her flesh. She quivered a moment then cracked her neck, slowly walked towards the door and out.

A few minutes later, Diene walked back into the bay carrying a large paint bucket. She walked over to the transformer and glared at him. She then walked to a wall at the other end of the bay and painted a red circle. Inside she wrote: ‘Place head here.’

THWAK

THWAK

THWAK

“Uh….” Chiana said. “Should we be worried?”

“Just leave her alone.” Ty said, flatly.

Diene ceased the bashing, walked back to her notebook, and sat down continuing to write. “Stupid frelling rat bastard metal piece of…” she mumbled

Aeryn slowly walked into the bay. She was battered and bruised. A bloody gash flowed red down her shoulder and arm. She stood as erect as possible, pushing the pain aside. John grinned and ran to her side. “Oh baby, you’re alive.” He breathed.

(Doug side note: Come on, Diene. That’s kinda weak. She just comes back?)

(Author Side note: Shush!)

Aeryn pushed back from him. “Yeah, but easy, John. I’m still in a great Deal of pain.” She winced. Diene wrote something and her injuries disappeared one by one.

John brushed her hair from her face and leaned in to kiss her as passionately and deeply as he could. She tensed then wrapped one arm around his neck and gently placed the other palm on his chest.

“HEY!!!” Diene yelled. “I DIDN’T WRITE THAT!!”

John quickly pulled back. “I DON’T CARE.” Then before Aeryn could say a word, his mouth was against hers and his hands massaging her back and waist.

She broke the kiss. John grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the bay towards the terrace.

D’Argo walked towards Diene and crouched beside her. “Do you think you could do something to end this before they start offending my nose. They’ll probably be all over the ship in a matter of microts.”

“Yeah, no prob.” Diene scribbled and a switch materialized on the wall behind her. It was covered by glass and on the top was written: In case of no plot, throw switch.

D’Argo broke the glass with his fist and threw the switch. Nothing. “Well. What’s supposed to happen.”

Ty grinned. “Wait for it.”

A pile of sand fell from the ceiling and accumulated on the floor. An umbrella, lawn chair and cooler soon followed. Then, the box fell into the chair wearing a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts, a margarita shooter on top. “What the… Ah Shit!” The box rotated, then the front face crinkled down as he slouched further into the chair.

“What are you doing?” Zhaan asked inquisitively.

“I’m crossing my arms in an infuriated manner at you.” Iden responded

(Author’s Note: Just to fulfill and earlier promise… hey, look! The Nesquick bunny, some Taiwanese whores, and YOUR MOM… playing Parcheesi!)