Bullet Blasts Blogsnord Behind Big Booble's Bofforium, Part 3
If you haven't yet, read the prior installments: Part 1 and Part 2.
Shortly after the ship touched down, the engines sputtered for a few moments and then belched a puff of greenish smoke. A hatch opened and three figures emerged. Two looked humanoid and one looked like a small spinning disc that hovered over the ground.
"Har. I do believe I know these folks. Aren't they your fellows, Mister Bullshit?" Booble scrutinized Bullet with one eye stalk while the others kept focused on the newcomers. Fairbairne sighed and sat down on the ground.
"Yo, Bullet!" yelled Pliers.
"Vat...vat...," Bullet stammered.
Doc accelerated over the snow and stopped with a puff of white powder in front of Bullet. "Greetings, Bullet of the League."
Bullet found his voice. "Vat is ze problem? I'm still on my vacation."
"No you're not," P.B. said, stopping in front of the Blogsnord. "Say, isn't this a Blogsnord?"
"The name is Fairbairne, good sir. And you must be P.B."
P.B. swished back a lock of golden hair from his face and tilted his head so that the sunlight glinted off his polished teeth. "That's correct. You may ask for my autograph now."
"Vat do you mean by 'not on vacation'?"
Doc rose in the air until his eyes were level with Bullet's. "The time change alters everything. The Galactic Empire moved it up considerably, and we are bound to comply."
"So? It iz only an hour difference."
"Not so," Doc replied. "Because the GE found the mistake several years after an earlier miscalculation on their part, they decided to make a retroactive change."
"Arr," Booble said. "I don't pretend to understand what the spinning top says, but I know what he must be driving at. It appears that the GE made their mistake a very long time ago."
"Exactly," P.B. interjected. "And so, instead of leaping ahead one hour, we've leaped ahead several weeks. The most amazing benefit of the leap in time is that now I'll be two months younger for the rest of my life."
Doc shook his head and his long tube-like ears waved. "Your logic, P.B. of the League, is -- as usual -- wrought with errors. We will all be two months younger. Therefore, none of us will be younger."
"Oh, wow," Pliers said. "Just think of all the pregnant women who are gonna deliver two months ahead of schedule. There'll be a rash of premature babies. That is so totally cool."
"Zis is not very good news. I vas hoping for a nice, long rest, but now I haff to go back to ze office."
"Ah, but that's not the worst of it," P.B. said. "Since you've been on vacation for two months, you owe the League some extra work."
Bullet nearly choked on his own tongue. "Vat?"
"P.B. of the League is correct, Bullet of the League. You have already spent twice the allotted vacation time on this planet. Company rules state that you must work an extra year in order for you to regain your vacation privileges."
"Ha!" Fairbairne bellowed. "I get two years of peace."
Bullet spun to face the Blogsnord and quickly drew a gun from his coat. "Ve shall see who laffs the last laff, you evil beast."
Before anyone could react, Bullet fired every single bullet into the Blogsnord's chest. Fairbairne blinked several times and then collapsed into a bloody heap.
"Ha. It iz I who has the last laff. Ha. There it is again. You are not so smart now, are you?" Bullet placed the gun back in his coat and headed toward the landing craft.
The others shrugged, all except Booble. Doc, Pliers, and P.B. followed Bullet without comment.
Booble went back into the restaurant and returned with a large meat cleaver. "It's only fitting that Fairbairne gets a right proper burial. But, my freezer is nearly empty and I have a large wedding party to cater on the morrow. I hope that roast Blogsnord is as good as everyone says."
He approached the Blogsnord and studied the corpse. As he raised the cleaver above his head, the League's landing craft shot into the air with a loud growl. It disappeared into the icy blue sky.
Booble spent the rest of that day and most of the night chopping, hauling, and preparing. Everyone at the party said they thought the Blogsnord tasted a lot like cherry pie.
Shortly after the ship touched down, the engines sputtered for a few moments and then belched a puff of greenish smoke. A hatch opened and three figures emerged. Two looked humanoid and one looked like a small spinning disc that hovered over the ground.
"Har. I do believe I know these folks. Aren't they your fellows, Mister Bullshit?" Booble scrutinized Bullet with one eye stalk while the others kept focused on the newcomers. Fairbairne sighed and sat down on the ground.
"Yo, Bullet!" yelled Pliers.
"Vat...vat...," Bullet stammered.
Doc accelerated over the snow and stopped with a puff of white powder in front of Bullet. "Greetings, Bullet of the League."
Bullet found his voice. "Vat is ze problem? I'm still on my vacation."
"No you're not," P.B. said, stopping in front of the Blogsnord. "Say, isn't this a Blogsnord?"
"The name is Fairbairne, good sir. And you must be P.B."
P.B. swished back a lock of golden hair from his face and tilted his head so that the sunlight glinted off his polished teeth. "That's correct. You may ask for my autograph now."
"Vat do you mean by 'not on vacation'?"
Doc rose in the air until his eyes were level with Bullet's. "The time change alters everything. The Galactic Empire moved it up considerably, and we are bound to comply."
"So? It iz only an hour difference."
"Not so," Doc replied. "Because the GE found the mistake several years after an earlier miscalculation on their part, they decided to make a retroactive change."
"Arr," Booble said. "I don't pretend to understand what the spinning top says, but I know what he must be driving at. It appears that the GE made their mistake a very long time ago."
"Exactly," P.B. interjected. "And so, instead of leaping ahead one hour, we've leaped ahead several weeks. The most amazing benefit of the leap in time is that now I'll be two months younger for the rest of my life."
Doc shook his head and his long tube-like ears waved. "Your logic, P.B. of the League, is -- as usual -- wrought with errors. We will all be two months younger. Therefore, none of us will be younger."
"Oh, wow," Pliers said. "Just think of all the pregnant women who are gonna deliver two months ahead of schedule. There'll be a rash of premature babies. That is so totally cool."
"Zis is not very good news. I vas hoping for a nice, long rest, but now I haff to go back to ze office."
"Ah, but that's not the worst of it," P.B. said. "Since you've been on vacation for two months, you owe the League some extra work."
Bullet nearly choked on his own tongue. "Vat?"
"P.B. of the League is correct, Bullet of the League. You have already spent twice the allotted vacation time on this planet. Company rules state that you must work an extra year in order for you to regain your vacation privileges."
"Ha!" Fairbairne bellowed. "I get two years of peace."
Bullet spun to face the Blogsnord and quickly drew a gun from his coat. "Ve shall see who laffs the last laff, you evil beast."
Before anyone could react, Bullet fired every single bullet into the Blogsnord's chest. Fairbairne blinked several times and then collapsed into a bloody heap.
"Ha. It iz I who has the last laff. Ha. There it is again. You are not so smart now, are you?" Bullet placed the gun back in his coat and headed toward the landing craft.
The others shrugged, all except Booble. Doc, Pliers, and P.B. followed Bullet without comment.
Booble went back into the restaurant and returned with a large meat cleaver. "It's only fitting that Fairbairne gets a right proper burial. But, my freezer is nearly empty and I have a large wedding party to cater on the morrow. I hope that roast Blogsnord is as good as everyone says."
He approached the Blogsnord and studied the corpse. As he raised the cleaver above his head, the League's landing craft shot into the air with a loud growl. It disappeared into the icy blue sky.
Booble spent the rest of that day and most of the night chopping, hauling, and preparing. Everyone at the party said they thought the Blogsnord tasted a lot like cherry pie.
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