Here's some more, gang!

==========

DAY 3

From: Amethyst
To: ElectricWhite
Subject: Gatchamania FYI

Just to let you know that while Gatchamania is down, we will be hanging out at the tempbase.

Ame

P.S. Per TJ -- BYOCAF (Bring Your Own Can of Air Freshener).

Maybe it was the memory of her father’s stories of how he often went through practice exercises in the event of a hull breach – how the alarm would sound when he was dead asleep, how he’d grab the mattress from his bunk and strain to hold it over the hole while his shipmates hurried to patch the hole and then pump out the water. Or maybe it was because she, being a lifelong asthmatic, was a little more sensitive about the changing pressure than other people seemed. Whatever the cause, ElectricWhite did her best to not look nervous as she rode in a passenger sub to Gatchamania’s Temporary Base.

Amethyst sat in a seat across from her. At first EW thought she was silent simply because they didn’t have much to talk about at the moment. But then Ame pulled out an inhaler and used it. To that, EW gave a sympathetic nod as she copied the action.

Daniella T was also there. Through most of the trip she watched the screen of a laptop while wearing a set of earbuds. Finally, she disconnected the earbuds from the computer.

“The preceding alternative sports presentation,” said a voice coming from the laptop, “was brought to you by Kim Jong Un-derwear. Kim Jong Un-derwear: bringing support to short- and medium-range missiles since 2012.”

“What in the heck were you watching?” Ame asked.

“It was a miniature golf tournament played by a bunch of drunk American college students on Spring Break.” DT answered. She then glanced over to EW and saw a raised eyebrow. “I’m getting desperate for the Masters to start.” DT added. Both Ame and EW gave a sympathetic nod, though neither one of them had much appreciation for watching golf.

Gatchamania’s Temporary Base came into view. It was a near-perfect replica of the Crescent Coral Base. “Not Center Neptune!” clouddancer stressed when she took EW to this place for the first time, “There’s no way in hell we were going to unleash another Zark on the world!”

A short time later, the sub had docked within the base, and the three Gatchamaniacs has disembarked. Once they were out of the docking area, it became quite obvious why Transmute Jun requested each member bring a can of air freshener to the base – the stench of being unused for a considerable amount of time was almost overwhelming.

EW was the first to have her aerosol can out and spraying. Soon the foul smell was covered by the scent of vanilla.

“I hope they get this fixed soon.” Amethyst said, “I can’t handle a lot of air freshener!”

“Me neither.” EW replied, “Especially if someone uses an overpowering scent.”

Just then the sound of the air conditioning coming on filled the air. The threesome stopped a moment to relish the feel of the cool air. But then Amethist and ElectricWhite started coughing and gagging while Daniella dropped to her knees, tears streaming from her eyes. Ame completely dropped to the floor, and EW slid out of her chair. Through watering eyes, DT saw them struggle to use their inhalers.

DT pulled herself up and staggered over to an intercom on the nearest wall. She punched a button and choked out, “We need help – NOW!”

* * * * *

The puke-green jackalope spent the night glaring in the general direction of the schooner-shaped cloud believed to contain Cep, Gatchamania’s administrator, classical definition of demagogue, and a thesaurus so full of other descriptions it would make the unabridged Oxford English Dictionary seem puny.

The Spectran commander needed to capture Cep. And if Cep couldn’t be persuaded to turn Gatchamania.net into the first site devoted to the worship of Zoltar, then he would have to be taken out of the way so that Spectran technicians could do the job.

And Cep simply didn’t seem to understand that he should cooperate with this simple plan.

The commander could swear he was hearing annoying sounds. He thought he could hear an Earthling humming. He was sure he was hearing an Earthling humming as though that Earthling was having a good morning. He’d swear on his life that the Earthling was humming and sipping coffee while having the kind of good morning that only comes after an especially pleasurable night. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. ‘Tain’t gonna stand!

While the commander was glowering at the cloud, a squad of soldiers dragging a very wide, long hose came up to him.

“What’s this?” the commander asked.

“This sucks, sir!” the nearest soldier replied.

“Keep your personal opinion out of this!”

“Sir, I meant so say this is part of a giant vacuum, sir!”

The commander looked at the hose, then up to the cloud, and grinned a wide, wicked grin.

__________________
“There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them." --Ray Bradbury

(Yes, I know I am a little late to the party…but)

How dare they not know you are - THE Electric of White Keeper of the Book of Gatchaman

Maybe they need a little smiting. But I know you are a gentle person EW so....

Written with love and a little bit of cheek

EW was trying to regain her calm after the altercation with the evangelists, when her phone range. The number was blocked but for some strange reason she decide to answer it.

“Hello poppet…” the voice vibrated up her spine, causing all sorts of warm fuzzies in places not mentioned. “Been hearing that some overzealous faith bashers have been giving you a hard time. Say the words poppet and they will be no more. I’ll have no pity for any kind that wanna hurt a dainty think like you.”

Somewhere in the back of EW kind, amongst all the confusion of what was happening now, she found a name to attach to the voice.

“Ah Zeb right?”

A deep masculine laughter was heard over the phone “Well now, that makes me mighty happy, ta think that a pretty thing like you remember my name”

EW thought about the last time she had encountered Zeb and his friends and has no doubt that about the fate of the evangelists if “she said the word”, but she didn’t want that. She also thought she could smell a faint trace of that deep forest musty smell that had accompanies him last time, but that was impossible, cause he was just on the phone not actually here, hell she couldn’t even see Littlewolf anywhere, but that in it itself was not unusual.

“Poppet ya still there, I can hear you breathing, just say the word and me an a few other will be able to come onta the Gatchamania site and deal with this matter”

Two things accursed to EW:
One he had damn good hearing, and Two he would not come onto Gatchamania without permission.

“No Zeb, we can handle this, I’m sure that Cep is working on it as we speak.”

“Pity poppet, perhaps another time them, I’ll send ya me number, ya can call me at any time ...fer any reason poppet large or small…best go now poppet, think I’ma due for a long run, ta burn of some of this excess energy.”

EW listens to the dial tone on her phone, Zeb is gone … again, she notes that again his accent had got thicker as the conversation process and at the moment she had more pressing concerns than an overprotective predator.

Then she found herself laughing slightly, what was Jason if not an overprotective predator.

Great… now she would have two of them giving her a hard time.

__________________
May the bad things get lost on the way to you door!

Ame -- what makes golf exciting is that the little ball absolutely refuses to head towards the hole! Ermm...at least when it's me hitting it...

__________________
They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally, they became heroes -- Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan.

DT ignores the Gatchamaniacs and settles down to watch the Masters!

ETA: Go, Bubba!

__________________
They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally, they became heroes -- Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan.

You're darned right you wouldn't ignore your fellow Gatchamaniacs, DT! As soon as you'd settle in to watch the Masters, you'd be smacked upside the head by The Book of Gatchaman!

__________________
“There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them." --Ray Bradbury

Well....EW.... a lot of people have been effected by the issues with the site, plus there is a rather large collection of goons, holy people and gatchamanians at the moment, perhaps Zeb's people have been watching our people and visa versa.

But if you don't want some stunning hunk, feeling all protective over you (other than Jason) - just tell him your not interested...

__________________
May the bad things get lost on the way to you door!

Phew ... thanks God that this time my stomach is still empty, EW!! ... "Zombie Flesh" air freshener in my hands?! ... gross!!

So ... large balls and blow jobs, eh?! This is getting interesting!

__________________
To be or not to be a gatchamaniac - that's the dilemma!

Sorry it's taken so long to get this to you! In just a little over a week, I've had RL throw a lot of stuff at me. I won't bore you with the details, but it did include things like PICC lines, antibiotics, and apartments coming out of nowhere!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this installment!

===========

Even though she didn’t need to, Daniella stayed in the Temporary Base’s sick bay while Amethyst and ElectricWhite were being treated for their asthma. After a couple of hours – and after everyone was certain every trace of the noxious air freshener cloud had been eliminated – EW and Ame were released. They both moved much slower than usual; their ordeal had left them considerably weak and tired. Without saying a word, Daniella started pushing EW’s chair.

“You see,” EW said, continuing the conversation they’d had in the sick bay, “it’s different when you’re playing. Now, when you watch it on TV, with the fake songbirds spliced into the audio, announcers trying to sound excited while maintaining a hushed tone –”

“All the whispering’s enough to annoy the hell outta me.” Amethyst muttered. But then she added, “What?”

“Huh?” EW asked.

“I saw that look on your face!”

“Oh, it’s nothing...”

“Don’t keep us in suspense!” Daniella chimed in.

“Well,” EW replied, “I just thought, what if PGA announcers were there on Amethyst’s wedding night?”

“Oh good lord....”

Daniella stifled a snicker as EW started speaking like a PGA Tour announcer.

“Well, it’s a fine evening. The conditions seem perfect. I wonder if he realizes how fortunate he is – not many have been able to play this hole.”

“Clearly he’ll be using wood.” Daniella added, using her own PGA Tour voice.

Ame strained to keep a straight face.

“He’s making his approach...” EW continued, “...and...yes! A hole in one!”

DT and EW stopped, let out a quiet but appreciative “ooh!” while giving a polite smattering of applause, as if they were spectators in the gallery.

Amethyst had stopped to lean against the nearest wall. She’d pulled out her inhaler but didn’t use it because she was wracked with spasms from the giggle she’d fought to keep down.

“One of these days –” The beginning of Ame’s threat was quickly killed when her giggle produced a couple of snorts, which then sent DT and EW into their own giggling spasms.

The Evangelist, carrying a scroll in his right hand, stepped out of a nearby elevator and approached them. “Good!” he said, “The membership’s been concerned, so I was coming to see how you all are doing.”

“We’re on our way to join them.” Daniella replied.

“How’s the mood?” Amethyst asked.

“Well,” he replied, “they’re taking some comfort in this meeting place, but –”

“They’re still pretty freaked out.” EW concluded. The Evangelist nodded. “Well,” EW said, shifting around in her chair, “I guess we’d better try to calm them down.”

They were quiet as they boarded the elevator that had just carried the Evangelist. Finally, to break the silence, EW said to him, “Um, if you don’t mind my asking, what’s with the scroll?”

His face lit up. “Well, ever since I joined Gatchamania, I’ve been compelled to write down bits of inspiration here and there. And maybe I’ll soon have a book to inspire the rest of the membership...”

“You mean,” EW said as she reached into the tote that hung off the back of her chair, “something like this?” She pulled out a golden book that was so thick that her hands could barely span it. Just then, a beam of golden sunshine came down and bathed the book in shimmering light, even though they were in a building deep beneath the ocean. Harps played and an angelic choir sang while Ame and DT looked all around, wondering where all this was coming from.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied as it all faded away, “something like that.”

“May I see?” EW asked as she set the book in her lap. He handed the scroll to her, though the look on his face suggested he was now ashamed of it. She unrolled the scroll, gave a quick read, and said, “Actually, this is pretty good...you should keep working on it.” She rolled up the scroll and handed it back to the Evangelist.

“But why?”

“The Book of Gatchaman is a living document.” she replied, “I can’t make any promises, but, if your piece is good enough, the GatchaSages might include it.”

“GatchaSages?” both Ame and DT said in unison.

“We’ll have to save that for later.” EW replied. The elevator came to a stop and the door opened. “In the meantime,” she proclaimed, “Evangelist, go ye forth and proclaimeth to yon huddled masses to prepareth for a reading from The Book of Gatchaman!”

The Evangelist charged out into the loading dock, shouting, “Hark! Prepare ye for a reading from [Ithe Book of Gatchaman[/I]!”

Once he was well on his way, Amethyst leaned over a bit toward EW. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you carried a pocket edition of that thing?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“This is the pocket edition.”

* * * * *

The giant fans blew the schooner-shaped cloud with hurricane-strength winds as the Spectrans watched from whatever tree or column they’d strapped themselves to. The puke-green jackalope commander stared with his own unique intensity; surely this much wind would make even the most stubborn clouds budge a little!

The commander let out a tiny cry of delight – a small object flew from the starboard aft of the schooner! (He would gladly let the cloud be blown to pieces, if it wouldn’t move.) The object whipped out a distance....but then stopped. It bobbed up and down a bit, did a little weaving back and forth, but it didn’t go any farther.

The lead Spectran let out a roar of frustration – that jerk Cep was flying a kite!

Meanwhile, in a wooded area near the foot of a mountain, five figures crouched in the shadows, watching a heavy, metallic blast door that covered an entranceway carved into the side of the mountain. There was a hiss, and then a low grumbling as the door slowly began to rise.

“It’s about damn time.” one of the five muttered.

__________________
“There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them." --Ray Bradbury

I'm scared now....

__________________

quote:

Originally posted by Transmute Jun I'm scared now....

__________________
Perspective Alters Reality