Thursday, January 12, 2006
This & that beats all.
HOOPS
The startling behavior of Secret Attack Squirrel and Black Jack Brisco---that one-eyed cat with the twice-broke zig-zag skelatal tail---becoming bossom drinkin buddies yesterday has apparently ended. The facts are not entirely clear at this time, but we can surmise certain inferences from observable evidence in the SAS G-HQ hanger following Black Jack's paniced, head-over-tail full-throttle withdrawl from the scene.
It seems that after several hours of imbibing heady ale (67 pints are currently missing from inventory) SAS & BJ adjourned to the G-HQ mess-hall for aspirin & a snack and unwittingly, it seems, Secret Attack Squirrel ate something "disagreeable" and before long, he had inadvertantly worked up enough gas to arm several small fartbombs, one of which was incidentally and accidentally released in close quarters (a seriously nasty combination). Fortunately, the high-explosive fumes did not detonate (for a change) but with his most-recent involuntary super-global circumnaviation still in the forefront of his adled memory, Black Jack hit the road running...
...Remember you heard it here first: Secret Attack Squirrel came instantly to the hanger-bay door and leaning out, cried after Black Jack, "Sorry about that, old man! I didn't mean to...I didn't do it on purpose! It WAS a dud, after all. No real harm done!"
T'was then that SAS passed out and plummeted straight down, head first...impact with the ground necessarily forced another fartbomb release and sadly, this time, this one did ignite. But once again, good fortune was on the side of good and the ensuing fire-ball was rather small and quickly and harmlessly dissipated into a light, southerly breeze.
It is the opinion of this reporter that at their earliest possible convenience, Secret Attack Squirrel's DOA (Dept of Ordinance Arming--aka the chief cook & bottle-washer here at SAS G-HQ) create new standards and immediately implement improved proceedures for the CONTROLED arming of Secret's fartbombs! This business of giving SAS carte blanc access to the raw material required for fueling and arming fartbombs HAS GOT TO STOP! Though our illustrious super-hero always conducts himself with the best of intentions and n'er a bit of malice towards others, he simply can not be trusted in the pantry! QED all these accidental weapons releases, and the unintentional meyham they produce. Indeed, none of the ERT (Emergency Response Team) has yet return from afar and afield, making us wonder if maybe, just maybe, they've gone AWOL...perfectly unerstandable under these latest mitigating circumstances.
Back at-cha tomorrow.
The startling behavior of Secret Attack Squirrel and Black Jack Brisco---that one-eyed cat with the twice-broke zig-zag skelatal tail---becoming bossom drinkin buddies yesterday has apparently ended. The facts are not entirely clear at this time, but we can surmise certain inferences from observable evidence in the SAS G-HQ hanger following Black Jack's paniced, head-over-tail full-throttle withdrawl from the scene.
It seems that after several hours of imbibing heady ale (67 pints are currently missing from inventory) SAS & BJ adjourned to the G-HQ mess-hall for aspirin & a snack and unwittingly, it seems, Secret Attack Squirrel ate something "disagreeable" and before long, he had inadvertantly worked up enough gas to arm several small fartbombs, one of which was incidentally and accidentally released in close quarters (a seriously nasty combination). Fortunately, the high-explosive fumes did not detonate (for a change) but with his most-recent involuntary super-global circumnaviation still in the forefront of his adled memory, Black Jack hit the road running...
...Remember you heard it here first: Secret Attack Squirrel came instantly to the hanger-bay door and leaning out, cried after Black Jack, "Sorry about that, old man! I didn't mean to...I didn't do it on purpose! It WAS a dud, after all. No real harm done!"
T'was then that SAS passed out and plummeted straight down, head first...impact with the ground necessarily forced another fartbomb release and sadly, this time, this one did ignite. But once again, good fortune was on the side of good and the ensuing fire-ball was rather small and quickly and harmlessly dissipated into a light, southerly breeze.
It is the opinion of this reporter that at their earliest possible convenience, Secret Attack Squirrel's DOA (Dept of Ordinance Arming--aka the chief cook & bottle-washer here at SAS G-HQ) create new standards and immediately implement improved proceedures for the CONTROLED arming of Secret's fartbombs! This business of giving SAS carte blanc access to the raw material required for fueling and arming fartbombs HAS GOT TO STOP! Though our illustrious super-hero always conducts himself with the best of intentions and n'er a bit of malice towards others, he simply can not be trusted in the pantry! QED all these accidental weapons releases, and the unintentional meyham they produce. Indeed, none of the ERT (Emergency Response Team) has yet return from afar and afield, making us wonder if maybe, just maybe, they've gone AWOL...perfectly unerstandable under these latest mitigating circumstances.
Back at-cha tomorrow.
# posted by call me crazy @ 3:37 AM 
