Thread: BAW meets SSB!
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Old 12-18-2007, 09:23 PM
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PointyHairedJedi PointyHairedJedi is offline
He'd enjoy a third pie
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Part the four!


T.O.: The Rear Admiral is retreating, sir! He's taken a bit of a battering!
PHJ: Good, good, fine, fine. Did we knock out their sensors yet?
T.O.: Affirmative. If we go to warp now they'll have a hard time finding us.
PHJ: Alrighty then! Chief, deploy the RBFBG on my Robert; helm, take us after Zeke as soon as it goes off!
Chief: ...Who is Robert?
PHJ: Robert, Mark, whatever. It's not that hard to figure out. Charlie!
Number One: I think that's you, Chief.
Chief: *Sigh* Really Big Flash Bang Grenade away, sir!

*An object the size of a garbage can is launched from the ship; when it is between the two vessels it detonates, producing a huge bright flash that utterly obscures the WWYPTT's getaway*

PHJ: No bang. Shoot.
S.O.: For the very last time, sir, there's no air in space! Not any! None at all!
PHJ: Yeah, sure, whatever. So where is Zeke headed, exactly?
Helm: Over that way, more or less. I don't really care that much to be honest,
PHJ: You'd earn a splat for that, but the replicators seem to be offline. Darn.
S.O.: He seems to be heading towards the Snagge Nebula. Hmm. What an odd name.
PHJ: Not that odd. I'll bet Valium had something to do with the choosing of that particular destination. Very well, follow them in. SO, what can you tell me about this nebula? Bear in mind I have a custard pie in each hand.
S.O.: It's... uh... it's a stellar nursery with a high proportion of young noisy stars. A good place to hide out.
PHJ: Damn punk kids, with their loud music and their ridiculous cars. Get the hell off my lawn, you young whippersnappers!
Number One: I know what you're thinking, sir, and it's really not a bit like suburban LA.
PHJ: I'm wearing clown trousers, Number One. Huge, baggy clown trousers. Do you really want to second guess the thoughts of someone who commands a spaceship in such patently ludicrous attire?
Number One: ...Perhaps you have a point there.
PHJ: I always do, even if no-one understands just what the heck it is. Sometimes even I don't! So there.
Helm: We'll be arriving at the Ottawa's position shortly if anyone cares. Which I don't.
PHJ: Now we can have a proper chat without that dastardly me trying to interrupt things. Good-oh!

Zeke: Mister Sa'ar, I want you to open a channel the moment they arrive.
Sa'ar: Hmm. And that would involve gold nanoparticles how?
Zeke: I'm sure you'll find a way. Mister NAH, what's our systems status?
NAH: We'll be okay, sir. These Intrepids have an incredible capacity for getting the crap kicked out of them repeatedly without so much as getting s single scratch. Plus, I can tie the transporters into the magical shuttle generator systems and pretty much fix anything on the whole ship, barring unforseen plot occurrences. I just need a little time.
Zeke: Chief, you know I rate you very highly, but so much as ding the fourth wall again and I'll throw you out the airlock myself. Are we clear?
NAH: Uh, yes sir.
IJD: You don't think that was a little harsh?
Zeke: Nope. Exactly harsh enough, I felt.
Nate: They're here, Commodore!
Mudshark: I don't suppose you'd let me fire just a little friendly warning shot at, say, their bridge?
Zeke: Now now, Mister Shark. That wouldn't be polite. And besides which, it wouldn't be half so satisfying as clubbing him to death with... something.
Valium: A piano would be traditional, sir.
Zeke: Noted. Channel open!
PHJ: Zekey! Old bean! Old sock! Old turnip! How are you? Long time no see, eh? Don't suppose I could interest you in a pot of tea?
Zeke: Only if I can clunk you over the head with it. Just what is the meaning of turning up with a hostile ship in pursuit without even the barest warning?
PHJ: I wanted it to be a nice surprise, of course. Although... my crew do keep telling me that not everyone is as keen on explosions and space battles as I am. A lot of nonsense, of course, and at least the Tactical Officer sees things my way. Or he used to until I got him killed and had to replace him with this new one. She's not nearly so much fun, I can tell you, but on the plus side I don't have to worry about armed mutinies so much any more. I did ask if I could get some clones made, you know, it's so much hard work getting new officers properly trained, but Starfleet said no. Old fuddy duddy stick-in-the-muds, but at least I have enough incriminating evidence on the top brass to ensure they don't kick me out any time soon. How are you, by the by?
Zeke: ...Dammit. I always start out at the beginning of these conversations angry, but by the time you finish my brain is lagging so far behind I've forgotten why.
PHJ: It's a gift, old cuttlefish. So here's the thing -- that other ship is also commanded by me. It's from the MU, and we should probably try and stop it. I thought you might get a kick out of getting to blow me up, even if it wasn't really me.
Zeke: Wow. That's actually sort of considerate, in a deeply twisted way. Well... alright then. But next time, would you please give some warning that my ship is going to get shot at?
PHJ: I'll give it my fullest and most active consideration, and by that I mean fat chance. Oh, sometimes it's so good to be me. Pointy out!
Zeke: Number one, would you kindly hand me one of those stress balls.
IJD: They're made from finest cedar, sir.
Zeke: *Sigh*

*Meanwhile, on the bridge of the SSWIPTT...*
mPHJ: We've lost them, then.
mS.O.: For the moment. There's a faint trail, but it'll take a while to pick out against the background subspace noise levels. *SPLAT*
mPHJ: That was a terrible waste of a perfectly good Marmite pie, but you deserved it.
mS.O.: My eyes! Oh God, it burns!
mPHJ: Heheheheh. Chief, get us fixed up or you're next. Someone get me a mug of Bovril!
__________________
Mason: Luckily we at the Agency use use a high-tech piece of software that will let us spot him instantly via high-res satellite images.
Sergeant: You can? That's amazing!
Mason: Yes. We call it 'Google Earth'.
- Five Minute 24 S1 (it lives, honest!)

"Everybody loves pie!"
- Spongebob Squarepants
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