Tagged: zeppelin

“We’ll Eat the Cheese Together in the Bath”

  • by jenanother few weeks of gliding
  • starting to look a little naked
  • It was a gorgeous day and the birds were chirping
  • and a middle finger
  • a ninety percent chance of success!

Tune in next time part 733      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“We’ll eat the cheese together in the bath, Lady and the Tramp-style,” Fleur declared. “It’ll be messy, but there will be plenty of time to clean up. It will take another few weeks of gliding through the skies before we arrive in Contraria.”

The little bell beside the dumbwaiter dinged. Fleur opened it and pulled out a very runny wedge of creamy, stinky Camembert. She balanced it on the edge of the tub and slipped her robe off. “I’m starting to look a little naked,” she said as she stepped in beside me.

It was a gorgeous day and the birds were chirping in the zeppelin’s aviary, and a middle finger was lifted by fate in my direction. Luckily the bathtubs on Contrarian Royal Airships are quite large. I managed to keep myself in the middle, between the two women, and so far Fleur had not noticed Tessa’s presence. If the THC content of the cheese was high enough and I got Fleur to eat enough of it quickly enough, my plan to protect Tessa stood a ninety percent chance of success!

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“Give Them the Smallest Escape Pod”

  • by jenI’ve grown to adore him
  • often used to welcome distinguished guests
  • ill-gotten origins
  • tattoo with the word “warning” on her hip
  • learned how to make explosives

Tune in next time part 729      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Give them the smallest escape pod,” Fleur said. “The one those robots stole that one time.”

Before the guards escorted the newlyweds away, I said to Mother, “Why are you maintaining this charade of coupledom with John? We all know it’s just some ruse of yours to gain access to Fleur’s airship.”

“It may have started out that way, but I’ve grown to adore him.” Mother’s eyes sparkled as she spoke of her new husband. “He knows all the best bedroom moves, even those I often used to welcome distinguished guests to the White House, and ones with even more ill-gotten origins.”

I should have known better than to try to talk to her about this sort of thing.

John elbowed me jovially. “And I’ve always wanted a wife with a tattoo with the word ‘warning’ on her hip that she got when she learned how to make explosives out of feminine hygiene products. Keeps things interesting.”

“Move out,” I said to the guards. The quicker these two were off the zeppelin, the quicker my queasiness would abate.

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My Elbow had Been Bruised for Days

  • by jenNot underwear.
  • Fitz’s physical condition
  • The guy is a shit, right to the core.
  • every country music song
  • or none at all

Tune in next time part 727      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My elbow had been bruised for days after Fleur squeezed it that morning, because the dalliance she was describing had been with me, not Jason. Was she just fucking with me? Almost certainly, but to what extent I could not tell. What would it be like to have true, naked honesty with my wife? To stand before each other wearing nothing but vulnerability and earnestness: Not armor. Not lies. Not underwear. Not anything but love. Sadly I would never know.

The guards placed manacles on John and Mother. Their leader, Major Fitz, saluted Fleur. Fitz’s physical condition was such that his muscles nearly burst out of his uniform when he moved. Even so, I felt the need to warn him about his prisoners.

I pointed to John. “The guy is a shit, right to the core. He could be the villain in every country music song, or none at all because no one would actually want to write a song about him.” I pointed to my mother. “And she’s worse. Don’t put them in adjoining cells.”

Fitz saluted again, this time at me, and I heard the seams in his jacket creak.

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I Could Hardly Be Angry With My Wife

  • dressed in a sheer green sweater
  • If it is wintertime
  • I would have been prepared for the screams
  • inscribed with messages from the monarch
  • paralyzed by the atrocious confession

Tune in next time part 725      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I could hardly be angry with my wife for sleeping with my brother when I had slept with her sister, half-brother, and sister-in-law, and I could tell she regretted her actions. It was as if she were dressed in a sheer green sweater of shame, a garment both unattractive and impractical. If it is wintertime, anyway. Or if we crashed into the snowy mountains. That event seemed much less likely as John manipulated his magnet a final time and the airship’s engines hummed back to life. I would have been prepared for the screams of everyone aboard if we’d been shot down, but was happy not to hear them just the same.

“Good work, John,” I said. “Now let’s get you those pancakes.”

“He’ll have to eat them in the brig,” said Fleur. “I can’t allow someone so dangerous to roam freely about my blimp.”

“Then you should lock up my mother, too.”

The cells of Royal Contrarian Airship brigs are made of platinum bars inscribed with messages from the monarch, Fleur’s father. They taunt the prisoner for being inept enough to be caught at whatever misdeed they were up to. Mother would hate it.

As Fleur summoned guards to escort the newlyweds to their new accommodations, I decided to see if she was still under the spell of her truth-telling trigger phrase. “You seemed to expect me to be paralyzed by the atrocious confession you made a few moments ago,” I said. “Could it be that you regret your actions because you’ve grown fond of me?”

A declaration of love from my wife would be most unexpected, but I could think of few other reasons for her to want to keep her dalliance with Jason from me.

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John Closed His Eyes

  • by jenWho’s jealous?
  • in the dental infirmary
  • you do have a baffling language
  • introduces me to all her friends as ‘no fun.’
  • thinking about that taste right now triggers my gag reflex

Tune in next time part 723      Click Here for Earlier Installments

John closed his eyes and went completely still. He looked like he’d fallen asleep, a state I hadn’t enjoyed in ages. Who’s jealous? You’re jealous! I was just relieved that Mother’s trigger phrase merely took John out of commission instead of initiating some sort of berserker rage that would end with all of us in the dental infirmary. The dental infirmaries on Contrarian airships are rudimentary at best, and they use an off-brand novocaine that numbs your tongue and lips so thoroughly that you do have a baffling language all your own for hours and hours. It’s because I refused to indulge Fleur and sing karaoke in that state that she now introduces me to all her friends as ‘no fun.’ It’s so bad that thinking about that taste right now triggers my gag reflex.

Luckily I remembered another trigger phrase that might get John back in motion.

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People Often Don’t Believe Me

  • by jensinister to the core
  • the monkey and the plywood violin
  • “What a fucking cliché,”
  • skittering across the ice
  • “Do you suffer from sea sickness?”

Tune in next time part 721      Click Here for Earlier Installments

People often don’t believe me when I say that my mother is sinister to the core. They mention my numerous siblings and how joyful a large family is, they remember my fifth birthday party, when she hired the man with the monkey and the plywood violin to entertain us, and how idyllic that meant my childhood must have been. They ignore the stories of marital strife with my father, of early childhood espionage training exercises, of her highly questionable acts as president. “What a fucking cliché,” they say. “Everyone has mommy issues.” Well, my mommy issues were skittering across the ice of an airborne hockey rink, intent on starting a war.

“Do you suffer from sea sickness?” she asked me with mock sympathy. “Your face is awfully green.”

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John Got Down on His Knees

  • by jenJust smile and wave, guys.  Just smile and wave.
  • Wombat herds?
  • inevitably got molasses on their shoes
  • “Is your throat lined with copper?”
  • used the expression “off the chain”

Tune in next time part 719      Click Here for Earlier Installments

John got down on his knees and pulled a magnet out of his pajama pocket. As he ran it over the surface of the ice he explained that it was controlling switches frozen deep inside.

Suddenly Mr Carousel skidded up beside me. “I’m so glad you’ve reconsidered! We at the Royal Contrarian Icecapades can’t wait to have you as our featured performer!” He nodded at John. “You and your friend can skate together as a pairs act, and at the end during the rapturous applause, you know what you do?” He waggled his eyebrows impressively. “Just smile and wave, guys. Just smile and wave. The crowds will love you! Soon you’ll be swimming in cash, and sportszeppelins, and wombat herds!”

John looked up eagerly. “Wombat herds?” He’d always wanted a wombat. A whole herd of them might prove as irresistible as honeyed pancakes. I couldn’t let him be distracted now.

“You know what happened to all the Academy’s wombat herders, John,” I said. “They inevitably got molasses on their shoes. You don’t want that, do you?”

He got a dreamy look in his eye and completely forgot about his magnet-fiddling. “But… their little squishy faces! They’re so fuzzy!”

“Have you forgotten about the pancakes?” demanded Fleur. “Is your throat lined with copper?” Her ferocious tone pulled him back from his wombat stupor. “Restart this airship immediately. Later you can ice skate with marsupials. I have never used the expression “off the chain”, but it will be that.” She glared at him with her fiery blue eyes. “Restart. The. Engines.”

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“We Must be Entering Harmonian Airspace”

  • by jenthis made him laugh softly to himself
  • paints a disturbing portrait
  • hot on my thigh
  • we’re gonna get some pancakes!
  • a tapestry of golden bees

Tune in next time part 717      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“We must be entering Harmonian airspace,” John said, and for some reason this made him laugh softly to himself. Such behavior in the face of imminent death paints a disturbing portrait of my one-time partner.

Fleur sauntered up and stood beside me. Her hand was hot on my thigh as she squeezed a coded message that we needed to hurry.

“Hey John,” I said. “After you restart the engines we’re gonna get some pancakes!” The man had a weakness for carbs.

“Pancakes?” he scoffed. “You think I’ll betray my orders for a mere plate of pancakes? Why, I wouldn’t restart the engines for anything, not even a tapestry of golden bees.”

“We have one of those, you know,” said Fleur. “Every Contrarian airship has a bee tapestry. That’s where the chef gets the honey to drizzle on the pancakes.”

“Honey-topped pancakes?” John said, intrigued in spite of himself. “Tell me more.”

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Mother’s Temper Should Not Have Surprised John

  • by jenI come from the land of plenty
  • the slimy creature refusing to budge
  • Do you not think something’s missing, brother?
  • prioritizing your coital carnival
  • gold-painted, life-size statue of his voluptuous wife

Tune in next time part 715      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Mother’s temper should not have surprised John, and while it is quite frightful, I would expect a seasoned espionage agent like him to have more intestinal fortitude. The sight of my nemesis with a load in his ceremonial jammies ought to make me smile, but instead it made me wary. What exactly had Mother done to him?

Through the escape pod door I heard her say, “I come from the land of Plentylvania, a descendent of the royal line. I can’t believe I’m married to the slimy creature refusing to budge from this escape pod and fix his error.”

Mother a Plentylvanian? The idea was shocking. And yet…

I remembered working on a family tree project with Jason, tracing our line back many generations on Father’s side. Mother’s side was starkly empty. “Do you not think something’s missing brother?” Jason asked. Now it all fell into place. Plentylvania was a small country, completely surrounded by (and always at war with) Svenborgia.

The escape pod door slid open and Mother confronted me. “I couldn’t help but witness your parade of children. It’s clear that you were prioritizing your coital carnival instead of countersurveilling John like you were ordered to do.”

“None of this is my fault,” I insisted. “Get out here, John, and restart the engines.”

“All I ever wanted,” whined John, “was to be the kind of guy who had a gold-painted, life-size statue of his voluptuous wife in his office, and now I’m going to die in a zeppelin.”

“Not if you restart the engines.”

“And stop pissing off your wife,” Mother added.

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The Make Everything Sound Dirty Code

  • by jenwhich people tend to find charming
  • visible from our tower
  • greases itself daily
  • an abrupt turn on Tuesday
  • but he never showed

Tune in next time part 713      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The Make Everything Sound Dirty Code is the sort of code which people tend to find charming when they first hear about it, but grow to despise when exposed to it in the field. It poisons your mind, and soon everything, no matter how innocuously intended, takes on a lascivious double meaning. I don’t like to even think about it. “That’s what she said,” I muttered. It was starting already! “If this keeps up, I’ll scream — name of your sex tape.”

Fleur looked at me pityingly. A uniformed woman ran up and handed her a slip of paper. “We’re being hailed by Harmonian Air Traffic Control,” she whispered.

I read the message over Fleur’s shoulder. “Contrarian Airship, you are visible from our tower. As you know, our landing strip greases itself daily as a defense against invasion, and our heat-seeking missiles are cocked and ready. Turn back now.”

My brain was reeling with innuendo. Greasy landing strips, fully-cocked missiles. Fleur could see the panic in my eyes, and did the favor of slapping me across the face.

“Thanks,” I said. “I needed that.”

“Airships are slow-moving,” Fleur reminded me. “If we want to avoid war with Harmonia we need to execute an abrupt turn on Tuesday, no later than 1:00 in the morning.” As she finished speaking, all the grandfather clocks aboard the zeppelin struck midnight. “And now it’s Tuesday. We have to get the engines started again, pronto.”

I looked around for the groom, but both he and bride were nowhere to be seen. “Where is John?” I asked.

“He went down that corridor.” Fleur pointed.

“Toward the escape pods?!”

“Of course he saw them during the safety drill, but he never showed any interest in premature evacuation.”

“That’s. What. She. Said.”

I ran after John at top speed.

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