Tagged: zeppelin

I Took in the Scene

  • by jensilently wondering
  • he likes to sing along
  • the third weapon
  • fusillade of cheerful inquiries
  • impaled his foot

Tune in next time part 711      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I took in the scene, silently wondering what sort of idiot would install a zeppelin control panel on the dance floor. I decided it was an idiot so idiotic he likes to sing along to songs he doesn’t know the words to. That’s his first weapon: being annoying. His second is failing to understand that he’s not the smartest guy in the room. And the third weapon in this idiot’s arsenal is a fusillade of cheerful inquiries that distracts the actual experts from their jobs and allows something like this to happen. Nay, forces. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that this was no mere act of stupidity, but one of sabotage!  And I knew just who the saboteur was, too. When we were at the Academy, I impaled his foot with a harpoon during training and he’s never forgiven me (even though I got extra credit for it). He’d followed me throughout my life ever since, threatening me with harpoons (the fourth weapon in his arsenal), stealing my girlfriends, and now, finally, marrying my mother. I didn’t know when he’d had the time to visit the shipyard where Royal Contrarian Airships are built, but it had to be him. John was just the sort of idiot to install a zeppelin control panel on the dance floor of the very airship upon which he would later hold an elaborate wedding reception.

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All This Attention from Mr Carousel

  • by jenwhen I used to ride a motorcycle
  • tequila anyhow
  • imagine a new color
  • biggest mittens he could find
  • Nepotism!

Tune in next time part 691      Click Here for Earlier Installments

All this attention from Mr Carousel reminded me of when I used to ride a motorcycle. I was approached weekly by talent scouts, people who would offer me anything my heart desired if only I would sign on with the Asphaltcapades. They made so many promises: Bathtubs full of champagne! (Or tequila anyhow.) A new bike in any color I could imagine, a new color for my leathers, too. One particularly odd fellow offered to buy me the biggest mittens he could find if I would only sign a contract. I turned them all down, just as I was trying to turn down Mr Carousel.

“I’ve got to check on my brother,” I said, gesturing at the blue panda. Jim was trying to undo the child safety lock on his big blue head.

“Nepotism!” cried Mr Carousel. “I love it! That’s the perfect theme for your routine!”

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The Sudden Lurch of the Zeppelin

  • by jenShut the fuck up, my dude!
  • (or, as he called it, “feesh”)
  • hide from him in the dark
  • flammable urine
  • Plus, we have tiaras

Tune in next time part 689      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The sudden lurch of the zeppelin could spell disaster for my rapidly spinning brother and his wife, or — if we were all very, very lucky — it might jolt them back to stability. I crossed my fingers and ran for the down escalator. Mr Carousel kept pace with me, dangling ever-more-exotic perks to entice me to sign an Icecapades contract.

“Shut the fuck up, my dude!” I barked, but he took no heed, explaining how, if I wanted, I could have a practice rink constructed over an aquarium so that my pet fish (or, as he called it, “feesh”) would never be left alone. I couldn’t help thinking that if I was Mr Carousel’s pet fish I would hide from him in the dark recesses of the sunken pirate ship decorating my tank.

“You want flammable urine?” Mr Carousel improbably said. “I can talk to the team bioengineer about getting you flammable urine. Plus, we have tiaras for all of our star skaters!”

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“Is It Really You?”

  • by jencourtyards and catacombs
  • mesmerizingly sexy
  • “Bingo.”
  • “I wouldn’t dream of mocking you.”
  • and a throbbing hunger

Tune in next time part 677      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Is it really you?” I asked. The coy nod I received in reply didn’t entirely convince me. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn’t. The only way to be sure was to follow when they darted away.

My quarry led me on a merry chase through the many courtyards and catacombs of the Contrarian Royal Airship. I find this sort of cat-and-mouse game mesmerizingly sexy, and was almost disappointed when I cornered them in an alcove between the sauna and the petting zoo.

“Bingo.” I don’t know why I said it.

My embarrassment must have shown on my face because my cornered prey said, “I wouldn’t dream of mocking you.” And then I felt hot breath on my ear and someone behind me whispered something that left me with more questions than answers, and a throbbing hunger. But not for food.

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My Advice

  • by Kentzooming off into the sky
  • “Dreadful — dreadful!” said Jingle, looking very grave.
  • and while they smell terrible
  • the third sign was unmistakable
  • apparent vigor of her husband’s sperm

Tune in next time part 676      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My advice to anyone hoping to escape a chain of islands would be to make sure the zeppelin isn’t stuffed with crying babies before zooming off into the sky, and also to verify where it is exactly that you’re escaping to. Fleur had disappeared into the chaos of the Toboggan Club’s members and those members’ many babies. My attempt to calm them by informing them about reptiles was meeting limited success.

Another unfamiliar face approached carrying an infant. I refused to believe that I would forget so many women with whom I’d had children.

“I hope this doesn’t offend you,” I said. “But, what’s your name?”

She smirked. “My name is Jingle,” she hollered over the din. “And don’t worry, we’ve never met. I’m a nanny.”

“Thank goodness,” I yelled back. “Can you point me to the bridge? I really need to get off this thing before it returns to Contraria.”

“Dreadful — dreadful!” said Jingle, looking very grave. “I myself wouldn’t be going there if I weren’t so devoted to the children. I’ve learned to pick up on the signs that they’re fond of me also. The first two signs are of course smiling and clapping, and while they smell terrible I found the third sign was unmistakable — why, it’s how they show their utter dependence on me.”

Sensing I’d get no help here, I turned to seek a passageway that might lead to the vessel’s controls. What I found instead was the last person I expected to see, saying the last thing I expected to hear, although I should have learned by now not to be surprised.

“Makes you wonder what kind of wife would compile such a tribute to the apparent vigor of her husband’s sperm.”

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The Airship was Traveling at a Furious Rate

  • by jenplease tell me why and how I’m wrong
  • tried to explain lizards
  • “Be cool my babies.”
  • using a demented baby voice
  • traveling at a furious rate

Tune in next time part 675      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The airship was traveling at a furious rate — furious for an airship anyway — taking me to the one place I most did not want to go. The children sensed my fear and all began to fuss. Acting quickly, before I was drowned out by a wave of caterwauling infants, I spoke loudly. Using a demented baby voice that never fails to get attention I said, “Be cool my babies.” And in the ensuing pause I tried to explain lizards to them. I don’t know why. It was just the first thing that popped into my head. When using the demented baby voice, tone matters much more than content. It might not be the best parenting technique in the world, and if you disagree with my methods please tell me why and how I’m wrong. But only if you have experience keeping a zeppelin full of infants happy and quiet.

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“What is That Racket?”

  • by jengeneral costumes
  • is kinda like cilantro
  • wearing a long crocheted dress and, I was certain, even from my distance, no brassiere
  • lunk-headed older brother
  • dictionary definition of quixotic

Tune in next time part 457      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“What is that racket?” I asked.

“That’s the zeppelin detection system,” said the first guard.

“Someone is arriving from the capital,” said the second.

“What about the blizzard?” I asked. The heavy snow was the reason I had been stranded here when my wife summoned me.

“The royal zeppelins all have flame-throwers,” said the first guard. “But of course you know that, General. I suspect you’re just testing us.”

“Of course, of course.” Did my zeppelin have a flame thrower? If so, why had everyone pretended I was snowed in? Motioning to Arlo, I said, “Take this criminal to the stockade.”

The guards saluted and hustled the whimpering Arlo off. I grabbed a roll of glitter storm tape and returned to my quarters to figure out which of my general costumes I should put on now. It would help if I knew exactly who was on the incoming airship. Contrarian military garb is kinda like cilantro — some people enjoy it while others are genetically predisposed to find it repulsive. For the most part I’m in the former category (who doesn’t like to look fancy?), but I was getting a little tired of all the quick-changes.

Down the zeppelin’s gangway waddled a heavily pregnant Isolde. She was not dressed for the weather, wearing a long crocheted dress and, I was certain, even from my distance, no brassiere. I couldn’t fathom what business she had at Enigma Fortress. Shouldn’t she be somewhere near a maternity hospital, so close to giving birth? And wasn’t her husband Harry in some sort of trouble? My confusion only grew when I saw who was with her: my rapscallion brother Jim.

The two of them approached and we made all of the appropriate courtly gestures of greeting. Jim stage-whispered to Isolde, “My lunk-headed older brother looks surprised to see us.”

Trying to track all of the inter-familial machinations in my life was the very dictionary definition of quixotic.

“Let’s get you inside where it’s warm,” I said. I may have been acting as Harry’s proxy when I impregnated Isolde, but my protective impulses toward the children she was carrying were genuine.

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“Summon My Zeppelin”

  • by jengoing utterly numb
  • light fixtures had long ago been stolen
  • with such instructors
  • with just ten minutes and a chair
  • kill him and eat him

Tune in next time part 431      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Summon my zeppelin,” I ordered.

“I’m sorry to say that there’s a blizzard,” said YoYo, not sounding sorry at all. “Your zeppelin is grounded. You will be alerted immediately when it is safe to take to the skies. In the meantime, these jeans are so tight my bottom is going utterly numb. Surely you’d like to help me remove them.”

“Perhaps some other time.” I groped about in the dimness. “Dammit, where’s the light switch?”

“It’s right here,” said YoYo. “But it won’t do you any good.” She explained that the light fixtures had long ago been stolen by marauding Harmonians. “Now about these jeans.”

“If I’m to act as Harry’s lawyer, I need to brush up on Contrarian Law.”

YoYo placed my hands upon her zipper. “I’ve heard that you were educated at The Hopscotch Academy. With such instructors as they have there I’m sure you know more about Contrarian Law than most Contrarian lawyers.”

“There’s no way that’s possible. All things Contrarian are ridiculously complicated.” I looked sternly at her. “What game are you playing, Yolanda?”

“I will show you, with just ten minutes and a chair, and maybe a little bit of whipped cream.”

The thought of YoYo (or myself) covered in whipped cream was too much, and I gave in. The snow was too heavy for my zeppelin to return me to my wife, it was too dark to study for my upcoming legal duties, I had already had sex with YoYo and survived, so no matter what her plan was I felt pretty safe. Plus if she was naked it would be easy to search her for hidden weapons.

“Just once more,” I said, stripping her tight jeans off. “After all, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“If Harry is found guilty his accusers are allowed to kill him and eat him,” YoYo purred, pushing me back onto my feather mattress and startling the fox.

I guess it’s a good thing I never liked Harry very much anyway.

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For Four Days My Military Zeppelin Soared Through the Sky

  • by jengreat unconquerable natural wonder
  • grow weary of having a whimsical name
  • stories of properly requited love
  • crystal crown
  • like two cats with their tails tied together

Tune in next time part 427      Click Here for Earlier Installments

For four days my military zeppelin soared through the sky toward Enigma Fortress, and the entire time my libido was a great unconquerable natural wonder, despite the best efforts of Yolanda the Yodeler. She went about the gondola scantily clad, and insisted that I call her YoYo. I myself would grow weary of having a whimsical name like that. It’s good that my moniker is so sensible.

When we were still one day out from the fortress, the Paradoxica Mountains appeared below us. YoYo became desperate to have her way with me, and I must admit I found her frenzy both flattering and arousing. I had become quite accustomed to frequent releases and my four day dry spell felt interminable.

As I held YoYo at arms’ length I asked her why she was so desperate. I needed to know what it was that made my fluids so exotic and desirable. She pouted and told me stories of properly requited love, implying that it was me she coveted and not the substances my body produced. She knocked the General hat from my head and replaced it with a crystal crown, declaring me the king of her heart. I could resist her charms no longer, and we made love in the Contrarian fashion. Instead of doggy-style, it’s like two cats with their tails tied together. It’s quite ritualistic, and took most of the rest of our flight time.

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My Yodeler Companion Looked at Me Askance

  • by jencreep to his side unseen
  • give their marriage a second chance
  • I suppose it’s very nice
  • their Dresden-china type of prettiness
  • Who’s jealous?

Tune in next time part 425      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My Yodeler companion looked at me askance. “I don’t know how it is in the military of your backwards country, but Contrarian Generals are expected to be skilled oneiromancers. How else will they plan effective battle strategies? The subconscious is like a man, a man who speaks through dreams, and a Contrarian General knows how to creep to his side unseen and eavesdrop, thereby gaining valuable knowledge.”

That explained an awful lot about Contrarian military strategy.

“I’ll read up on the topic before we land,” I said. “Are there any messages for me? Something from my wife perhaps?” I wanted to know if my trip to the Paradoxica Region was a permanent exile.

“Indeed there is, General. Shall I deliver it?”

I nodded.

She stood up straight and clasped her hands together in front of her chest, then began to yodel. It was very loud, and I took a step backwards. Instead of the standard nonsense syllables, her ululations contained words. “General, I hope this message finds you well. The children are all roly-poly and adorable, but not as roly-poly as Isolde. Her pregnancy progresses apace. The soothsayer is sure that she’s carrying triplets at least, possibly more. Isolde and Harry have gone into counseling to give their marriage a second chance. Harry’s such a jealous tit about the whole proxy marriage. Most women would not tolerate his childish behavior. I suppose it’s very nice for him that Isolde is crazy about him. Assuming that Enigma Fortress has not been carried away by an avalanche I will visit you there when it’s time to conceive our next children.” The yodeler fell silent, her final words echoing around the gondola for a few seconds.

“Any other messages?” I was hoping for orders of some kind, an idea of my mission.

“That’s all,” said the Yodeler. She sighed. “Your wife and her sisters are all so beautiful, with their Dresden-china type of prettiness. And you’re so ruggedly handsome.”

“It sounds like you’re jealous.” She had no reason to be, as she was quite a looker.

“Who’s jealous?” She stepped closer and murmured in my ear, “Your wife may be beautiful, but she’s not here on this zeppelin, and I am.”

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