Tales of the Parodyverse

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Josh Clement
Mon Nov 22, 2004 at 03:02:27 am EST
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The Intermittent Adventures of De Brown Streak #9 - This Time With Ample Pigeon-Warrior-Woman
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Shazana Pel, warrior woman of the fallen Thonnagarian space empire, regards the object before her with suspicion. “What am I supposed to do with this?” she demands of De Brown Streak.

DBS: “Just put it in your mouth. You’ll like it. It’s… it’s traditional.”

Pel: “And this is what always happens on your world when one warrior defeats another in battle.”

DBS: “Absolutely. Try it. You’ll see why it’s our ancient custom.”

Pel cautiously tastes the donner kebab. “Mmm. By Thonga’s golden g-string, yes, it tastes of victory.”

DBS: “And lamb.”

Pel: “It is a worthy meal of triumph after a fell and terrible combat!”

DBS: “Yes. But tell me more of Thonga’s golden g-string.”

Pel: “What surprises me is how easily you fell in combat at the end there. I was having difficulty landing blows upon your fast-moving body until you, what was it…?”

“Let’s call it a serious muscle cramp,” DBS grins at the alien huntress in the leather-strap outfit. “I stiffened up and after that you were able to catch me. Damn. And then I did what any, um, warrior would do in the same circumstances and yielded to you.”

Pel: “And rendered unto me ‘the curry of victory’?”

DBS: “That’s right. It’s, um, it’s the three stages of surrender here on Earth. The curry of victory, the movie of submission, and then you get to take advantage of my helpless body until dawn breaks. Damn it.”

Pel: “That is an unusual set of customs.”

DBS: “Since you are new to Earth and our ways I’m willing to let you take advantage of me a little longer if you feel we haven’t really got the customs right the first two or three times we try.”

Pel: “You are honourable for an abomination. I shall try to skin you painlessly.”

DBS: “Thanks, I…. Er, abomination? Skin me?”

Pel: You are a genetic mutate, are you not? It is the duty of all right-thinking sentients to eradicate you from the face of the Parodyverse, yes?

DBS: Have you been talking to Herbert Garrick?

Pel: But your pelt is of a pleasing and unusual hue. I shall take care to display it prominently in my hall of trophies. And I shall hang your kebab in a place of honour.”

DBS, choking on popadom: “You want to… hang my kebab?”

“You have your customs, I have mine,” she tells Josh. “Just because I am cast out from my lineage as a zhonga-kha, bereft of all honour and future does not mean I will abandon the customs of my people.”

Josh Clement weighs to problem of being skinned vs the potential of being taken advantage of by a hot pigeon warrior-woman. “So this skinning bit comes at the end, after you’ve taught me a hot, sweaty lesson for being an abomination, right?”

Pel: “I suppose so. Tell me of your deeds. Your conquests. I will need to record them in my personal tally.”

DBS: “Well letsee. There was Debbie first, and her sister Dorrie…”

Pel: “These were mighty struggles? You tumbled and tossed in the fierce grip of desperate battle?”

DBS: “There was tumbling and tossing. Then Karen, Sheila, Mosha, Lucy, Cinnamon, Brandi, Laura and Cora, Brenda… Yes, that’s all. Then the month after I conquered…”

Pel: “You are a prodigious and outstanding warrior.”

DBS: “I don’t like to boast, but yeah.” He smirks.

Pel takes a mouthful of the curry of penance. “Why were you battling those primitive robots when I first challenged you?”

DBS: “The Sentinoids? Oh, they’re just tools of the Man, trying to oppress the people. It is the job of every right thinking, um, warrior of honour to smash as many as possible. Also they were casting a shadow over my book when I was trying to read.”

Pel: “Who is this Man, and how can he be cast down?” She thinks for a moment while enduring the vindaloo of victory. “I shall have to ask Mr Epitome, for he seems to enjoy explaining the socio-economic mores of your planet. At length.”

“Epitome?” snorts DBS. “He’s a major tool of the Man. Well, a major tool full stop really.”

Pel: “I had not realised he was so important. It is said that he is a eunuch.”

DBS: “You can tell him I said so. Tell anyone you like how big a tool he is. I don’t mind. And be sure to ask him about that eunuch thing. Try to wait until he’s got a mouthful of food before telling him though.”

Pel: “Perhaps I should defeat him in combat and force him to render to me the Indian meal, movie, and acts of submission?”

DBS: “I think that would do him a world of good, I really do. You can tell him I said that too.” De Brown Streak pauses and sighs. “But, and you have no idea how sorry I am to come back to this when I’d so much prefer to hear about Thonga’s sacred g-string, I need to talk with you about the whole abomination extermination thing.”

Pel: “You have some ideas how this can be accomplished more effectively?”

DBS: “I think you haven’t quite got the hang of it. After all, aren’t you an abomination now. No offence.”

Pel opens her mouth to deny this, then goes very pale.

DBS: “So, welcome to the team. We’ll be glad to have you. I am especially looking forward to having you.”

Pel, a bit forlornly: “It is very kind of you to say so, human abomination.”

DBS: “No problem. Just kick the crap out of Mr Epitome and we’ll be evens, okay? Oh, and don’t forget to tell him he’s a tool.” Josh finishes up his curry and grins over at his captor. “Anyway, this’ll cheer you up. We’ll go back to my place and we can curl up on the sofa and watch the movie of penance together, okay? I’m guessing you’re going to like Lord of the Rings. Not quite sure which side you’ll be cheering for, but still…”

Pel, slyly: “Does this curling up on the sofa involve you rendering up your garments to me and having to rub oils over my victorious flesh?”

DBS does a double take: “You’re… not quite as alien as you seem, are you?”

Pel, also smirking: “There is but one way to find out, conquered abomination.”

De Brown Streak: “The things I do to promote the cause of mutate rights…”



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