Nine times out of ten...

"Soooooooooooo

ooooooooooooS"

Thusly did the radio transmitter on the dashboard squawk. Little lights blinked randomly.

Mike's head snapped up, and he rubbed his eyes.

"Shouldn't have been sleeping on the job, Mike." He told himself.

He glanced at the dashboard, and fell asleep again.

====================

"French Fries?"

"Yes." Captain von Rickenheimer slapped the princess.

8888888888888888888


"Which one do you like best?" Mary Darling asked her pet flamingo, George.

"The red one does not suit your complexion." He said, matter of factly. He took a puff from his ivory tobacco pipe, and squinted.

"Are those electric, or gas?"

"I wish!" I still have use my imagination to make them go."

Mary pouted, and fired a few rounds at the wall.

"Nearly finished my second name there" She commented, before holstering her weapon, and spitting on the floor.

George flapped his wings, and soothed his ruffled feathers.

"At least you don't have to turn one of those damn cranks."

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww


Four Prizonshiv cruise missiles cruised towards a large bulbous city that crept across the horizon. They were large, massively large. They had to be, to carry all of that cranberry jelly.

On radar, they were little bigger than the period at the end of this sentence

qrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqrqr


Mike slapped at an imaginary fly that tickled the hair on his hand, and continued to dream of walruses and Spanish Guitar.

"Sooooooooooooooooooo

ooooooooooooooooooooS"

"Blink"

"Blink"

99999999999999999999999999999

In the corner, a wily cockroach scanned the readout on his wrist computer.

"All systems are functionals" He clicked, harshly.

"Durkha, Durkha!"

.......................................................:.........

The princess sneezed. Captain von Rickenheimer wiped his nose and drew meaningless little designs on the cocktail napkin.

Two shots rang out, and a third grabbed his jacket and ran.

"Damn you." The princess muttered under her breath, and stabbed the Captain in his face.

Her decorative sandwich toothpick snapped in two, leaving her holding the decorative spleen portion, while the pointy business end jutted painfully out of the cheek of the Captain.

He fell to the floor screaming.

"Horseradish! Not Horseradish!"

The waiter cleared the table.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Well, if you already liked that one, then why bother me?" George swallowed his whiskey awkwardly, as only a bird, or possibly a baby human can.

Mary Darling shot a glance at him and selected the one she secretly wanted all along, and inserted it into her clothing emitter. Instantly, the world exploded into a ball of cranberry jelly.

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox


The vast army of cockroaches approached the creeping mass of cranberry jelly in lockstep. They brandished marlin spikes and turnpikes.

"I say," quoth the soaring beetle-hawk,"lets eat them cockroaches, eh?" His wings closed tight against his body, and he dove down, like a hockey player. The roach army disappeared in a puff of feathers, and nine times out of ten, that sort of thing will happen.