Lua Ankt
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Posted - 2009.09.15 11:03:00 -
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"The capacimator is running lonely!" the on-board computer flashed its fancy colors and a really annoying sound flooded the c*ckpit. "The space is a funny environment" she thought, while flipping the appropriate miners to end the glittery chaos. The market wasn't her favorite aspect of this life, but capacimators are vital, so the business trip had to be done. It wasn't the first to run lonely, insane even, from her tight ship.
"Incoming call!" the on-board computer startled her. "State your name and business, quickly" she blustered. "This is the Fattest Council speaking, we have assembled into our Fat Chambers to discuss the fate of our people! You are summoned before us and make no mistake, she who avoids us, voids us!" the fat voice murmured and ended the transmission before she could reply.
"Incoming call!" the on-board computer kept making fun of her. "What now?!" "This is still the Fattest Council, I forgot to tell you when to meet us. The meeting is set at zero-eight-hundred-hours tomorrow. Be there! And pick up some fresh Quafe on your way here, our dispenser ran off with a lonely capacimator." She knelt. Everything was linked! "I .. will .. be there!"
The Fat Chambers were impressive. Not many people have been there, let alone summoned by the Fattest Council. It was a very tall and long palace-like structure with unrecognizable, yet great architecture. Its corridors were dark and cold and apparently the Fat Chambers were all the way in the back. She strolled with confidence as she didn't want to leave the wrong impression. The Fattest Council greeted her. "Welcome!" A long, awkward pause followed. "Aren't you forgetting something?" the same fat guy spoke. "Like what?" "Didn't Stevens told you yesterday when you two spoke on the phone?" "Um... Nope!" "Myes, myes, he told you. I heard it myself! Now quit your silly games and hand it to me!" "Hand what?" "The thermos. The vacuum flask. Whatever the fat you keep the Quafe in! Do you know how long since I had a taste of that stuff? Do you?! Frankly, I don't think you do." "Oh," she finally got it, "here you are! It's black, didn't want to spoil it for you." The fat hand grabbed the flask, opened the lid and sniffed deeply. "Myes! Myes! Now if you'll excuse us... we need to discuss pressing matters. You can wait outside, we have a pretty impressive collection of Eon under the table there." That pis*ed her off. "Hey fatchuck! I traveled fast and far for this meeting. I'm not just gonna "sit tight" 'till your fat asses drink your morning Quafe!" "And what are you gonna do about it, tight one?" They all laughed. She grabbed her proton abbreviated slingshot and knocked off the Quafe flask from the table. The precious liquid stained the carpets pretty badly. "Oh, why? Why? What have you done?"
The Council, the very council that made the great war bearable, collapsed. The depression was so great among them that she could almost taste it in the air. Every Fattest member succumbed. They simply died. A later investigation turned out that the carpets reacted to the Quafe in unexpected ways, releasing poisonous gases and killing the fat ones. She escaped unscathed, but long trials tackled her. After the death of the Fattest Council, the war grew ever larger, featuring battles of gargantuan proportions. People fled, but the war reached out and grabbed them from every nook and cranny. Not even guys like Jason Marshall, who at first enjoyed every bit of this slaughter, escaped the claws of decay. But she didn't feel guilty, nor sad. She didn't have time for it. After all, her ship was still missing a capacimator.
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