Welcome to the 95th Drabble Game. There is space around the table. Come join us. I've dealt you 20 Drabbles, and ask you to look closely at them and present to us the best three in your hand.
This week's topic of "Cripple Mr. Onion" was brought to you by the clear winner of last week's Drabble contest, Splendour.
Above me is a bunch of options in a poll. Those options are directly related to the bunch of short stories below me. It's a multiple choice poll but please limit yourself to only the three votes. The results of the poll will be announced on Monday morning. Not only will the winner receive an imaginary toilet paper crown, they will win the honour of deciding next week's topic.
For any casual passers-by reading this thread, please take the trouble to vote. The Drabbles aren't long. It will take you no time to read, and your vote could make someone's day.
For contestants, DON'T VOTE FOR YOURSELVES! Anyone caught voting for themselves will have their onions crippled.
01 - DocStone - Meet Mr Onion
Interrogation rooms. Tammy didn’t really care for them, but as Dr Ted was the guest of honour she was willing to overlook her aversion just this once.
The drugs that made normal “visitors” so cooperative were having no effect, so Mr Onion* was having to resort to less sophisticated methods, namely a hammer to the knobbly bits. It wasn't going well.
“Enough” said Tammy, “no need to make him a cripple, Mr Onion. Time for the Ginger Beer Trick…….”
Dr Ted started talking. They always do…….
*The Head of Imperial Interrogation, so-called due to his ability to make people cry.
02 - Phoenix_Dfire - Presidential Typos
The Federal President was stomping about her office, her latest approval ratings had put her in a foul mood, when the office comlink bleeped.
‘What!’ she snapped.
‘The Federal Intelligence Chief is here!’
A short but stocky man entered. He was carrying a small holdall which he was making sure didn’t touch his hand tailored suit. He gently laid it down on her desk.
‘As per your orders Ma’am.’
Puzzled, she opened the holdall and almost threw up.
‘What orders were these!’
He produced a memo.
‘This is supposed to read Cripple Onionhead.’ She shouted. ‘Not Cripple Mr Onion’s Head!’
03 - Goose4291 - The Ends Justify the Means
The smuggler had been secured in the Fretensis brig, legs and arms shackled securely to the bulkhead. Across from him were several members of the Penitus Obses Ministerium.
“So…” The lead officer flipped through his case notes “Mr. ‘Onion’, I was hoping you’d be kind enough to inform me as to the name and whereabouts of your supplier.”
Onion stood defiant, not breaking his silence.
“Very well… Cripple Mr. Onion, see if that will loosen his tongue. You can reach me in the Wardroom when he starts to co-operate.”
He heard the screams start as the hatch closed behind him.
04 - Frank - It's Not Plagiarism. It's Homage.
The Thargoid and Fer-de-Lance was the perfect dingy setting for a game of Cripple Mr Onion. A bunch of ne'er-do-wells hunched around a rickety table in a dark corner of the pub. Frank was the only honest player at the table. He lacked the initiative for more creative gameplay.
An ace fluttered out of Psykokow's sleeve as he pointed an accusing finger at Frank, "That's a Great Onion! you know what the odds are of getting that?"
"50/50? Beating you lot is an a million to one shot, and you either get that million to one shot or you don't!"
05 - MikeSnos - The Senator's Loss (or gambling's for Imerial Mugs... MUG!)
The Senator stormed into the conference room ranting and regretting backing the loser in the Buckyball run.
Pointing his wavering finger at the Chief Judge the Senator glowered and growled.
'Don't you ever do that again... I paid good money for Tj to win and you failed to make it happen!'
Grovelling, Chief Judge Kow promised, upon the integrity of his new bookshelves, that he wouldn't fail next time.
'You're right!'
Said the now enraged Senator, now in serious need of some Valium,
'I know Tj's useless but, this time, I want you to Cripple Mr Onion to be certain'.
06 - Simoof - THE FERVENT WINDS OF WAR - A GASTRONOMICALLY CATASTROPHICALLY ANOMALY
The Gingerbeer trick? Everything by the book.
"You don't look like your peeling too well, Mr Onion." Dr Ted mocked.
"Dr Ted, please report to the Senators office... [buuurrrpp]". The stations intercom coincided with Mr Onion dropping to the floor in a fit of crippling farts.
"See what happens when I'm taken away from my duties. I'm sure the senator will want an explanation"
Tammy sharted.
--------------------------------------
Dr Ted returned to his lab. He sat at his computer and tinkered. The Aircon hissed.
"Cancel request for Dr Ted"
"Must be something in the food." Dr Ted grinned... briefly.
Times up Tommy.
07 - Darkoba - A Stealthy Chess Move
Lord Havelock Vetinari, Patrician of Ankh-Morpok, stepped from the ramp of his Imperial Clipper, a satisfied smirk on his face. By now, the operation had been completed, the enemy removed.
A surreptitious movement in the landing bay. A glance at his time-piece.
"Ah, good. Precisely on time."
His Guild Assassin approached casually from the slurky shadows.
"It was successful?" demanded Vetinari.
"Almost milord. Just one final detail."
"What then?" Havelock Vetinari, Provost of Assassins, barely had time to raise an eyebrow before the blade slid in.
"The 'Cripple', Sirtery Onion, regrets the necessity but, with respect, you must be removed."
08 - Splendour - King Takes Pawn
The blade pierced the heart. Twisted. Withdrew. An incredulous expression on his face, Lord Havelock Venetari slumped lifeless to the ramp of his ship.
The Guild Assassin turned to stroll away, then froze as the amused voice of Lord Havelock Venetari echoed over the landing bay speakers.
"Tut tut. Good body doubles are so hard to find, and the danger pay is not insignificant. Kindly inform the cripple Mr Onion that he can expect his next Senate review to be... extensive. Invasive even. I expect a full report of your involvement in his machinations on my desk by 0700 tomorrow."
09 - Bikky - Walking Aids
Frank had been attending Gamblers Anonymous for six years now. Everyone knew him, and everyone knew he still gambled. The cards were his favourite. This week he wasn't here.
“Where is the lazy sot?” Susan Boils asked?
“Probably still in the Thargoid drinking.” replied Darkoba
“He’s actually in the cells,” replied T.J. “He’d been playing against that copper, You know the one that thinks his nickname hides his identity. Anyway Frank caught him cheating, as we all suspected he did, so bust his knee caps with a broom handle. Two hours later Mr Onions’ friends turned up and arrested Frank.
10 - Erik Marcaigh - Deal With It
The overhaul of the Orca was underway. Damaskinos finished programming a new ID while Eleutherios and Melantha changed the outside color from dazzling white to a dead black with blue stripes running away from the vents. They claimed the paint job would reduce its heat signature.
Seamus, Rose, and Bloodless all worked inside, adding technology and weapons. Bloodless had been complaining about his feet all day.
Seamus was pulling the missile rack in place when it slipped and fell at Bloodless' feet, which resulted in him yelling.
Seamus screamed back, "Ain't my fault you cried 'pull'! It missed yer bunion!"
11 - MrMogadon - A Tale of Achenar Morpork
Commander Vimes suffered in full ceremonial regalia and thoughts of the missed evening playing Cripple Mr Onion in the Rebroken Drum added to his misery.
Simoofina and Psykowella, (two really weird Sisters), mono-tonally heaped praise on their art-work. “Isn’t the light fantastic and the colour of magical hue…”
The saccharine hyperbole was nauseating. “If I’m sick and have to rinse..” Wind blew on his neck. Instinct made him turn. The blade nicked his ear in passing and imbedded with a thud in one of the sisters.
“A murder! Praise be to the Small Gods“
“Guards! Guards!”, he called with glee.
12 - Listeri69 - A Mouthful Of Head......
'Ahhhh Michelle just the person I was looking for. Well there’s no easy way to say this so i’ll come straight out with it…. I need you to give me warm creamy Head.'
'erm well'
'Look I know you love Head as much as I do. I’ve not had any Head in two days now, I miss the warm fuzzy feeling good Head gives you and i’ve been getting regular Head recently and it’s helped no end, especially with mugs.
'It iz just so sudden your gloriousness…..'
'just meet me outside McThargoids at lunch and you can cripple my onionhead.'
13 - Galactic Midden - No title, instead I'll just apologise in advance
<The audience hushed>
"Vying for a place in GalVision's final... please welcome back boy-band trio 'Meat and Two Veg'!"
Meat and Misty Onion shuffled in nervously, their uncomfortable entrance prompting mutters and gasps.
Obviously scornful Judge Winnard growled, "get on with it then!"
With a worried glance at Meat, Misty Onion sang.
"It's all gone propensis, a little bit rehensive so say no-go!
To hunting Black Crow-oh!
We can't afford defences, they're crippling expensive..."
"STOP!" Winnard barked. "Utter garbage! Where's your singer and writer Taytoh!?"
Tears welling, the well named Misty sobbed "H-he's dead, f-fuel scoo-scoop malfunction... Poe got baked!"
14 - Clef_Hanger - Casabianca 3301 (apologies to Felicia Dorothea Hemans)
The boy stood on the burning deck
Close by the captain's chair
He waited for his father's voice
Alone in brave despair
A children's entertainment ship
With nowhere left to go
Defiantly she stood her ground
Against a mighty foe
The pirate Python in command.
Resistance? Senseless folly.
The crippled Mr Onion bore
The scars of first cruel volley
The boy cried out "Speak Father!
The lifeboats all are gone.
The fires are getting closer."
But his reply was none.
The shields went down and finally
The Orca blew apart.
Space an empty silence
For the boy of noble heart.
15 - CdrTwisted - Steve Miller Banned.
The explorer sang softly to himself.
"Abra, abra-ka-drabble... I wanna reach out and grabble."
Grabble? Was that even a word? The tune had molested his head for 3,492 lightyears. And he still couldn't sing it right.
Abra-ka-cripple?
No.
The only thing for it was to sing a different song.
"Maybe it's because I'm on Onionhead, that I love onions so..."
That wasn't going to work.
"They call me Mister Laver, Laver, mmmmm."
Maybe the Fuel Scoop song...?
"Doncha wishya Viper was hot like me. Doncha wishya Type Nine was shot..."
That would do. Only 8,000 lightyears to go.
16 - {SAS}Stalker - Crippled Mr Onion Sir
Even though it was dark he could see there were wires and boards everywhere, open junction boxes breathed fire like miniature dragons aligning the walls and electrical sparks created rapid silhouettes of Simon’s fellow engineers working different areas of the systems room. He looked around hopelessly and stepped over a puddle of some unknown liquid as he reached the status panel of the frame shift drive just as his radio exploded into panicked life; “Status Simon, hurry they are coming round again!” Hurriedly he cycled through endless information screens before finally came to the correct panel, “Crippled Mr Onion Sir..”
17 - Riedquat - "Cripple Mr Onion!"
“Ok Son”, said Rideon, as he moved to the table and laid out an assortment of vegetables in different places.
“If you’re going to be a famous general”, he winked “you’re going need to know some battlefield strategy”.
The little boy giggled as his father moved the various foodstuffs around making whooshing and laser noises.
“So!” he began, “The carrots... are Krait assault craft”. “The peppers are Cobras - torpedo gunboats” he said raising his eyebrows, “And this big thing!” he said, placing an enormous onion down on the table, “is an imperial destroyer”.
“What are you going to do?”
18 - Steed - Seriously?
Breathing hard she stopped and stared as her hopes sank. She would probably die on this wreck, it was a mess of gouges and scorch marks, the scrawled name squeezed on what little undamaged hull remained:
Mysteron - I.on Ass Cobra
Definitely dead, but she couldn't help a rueful smile as the heavy thud of grav boots behind made her sprint inside. However dumb at least this was a choice, not surrender.
She stared again on the cockpit threshold, well maintained, the commander assured.
‘They’ll be looking to disable us, shields will hold till frameshift’
She strapped in, just maybe ...
19 - Ian Phillips - The usual suspects
A war had broken out. It felt as if a new body was lying, mocking him, around every corner.
The link had slowly become obvious to the over stretched police department. An underworld crime war was in full swing, with control of the drug trafficing trade the prize.
Except for a few standout anomalies. In amongst the onionhead overdoses and creative 'accidents' were a few simple but brutal executions with no drugs connections.
Jared Inxed, the detective in charge of the special investigation force, studied the board and sighed.
"Bring in the usual suspects, starting with that cripple, Mr Onion".
20 - Telakin - How GalNet Crippled Mr. Onion
Frank had saved the latest strain of high-yield onionhead from the federal snoop dogs. The seedlings sat snug in his underground miniature farm with an automatic caregiver drone he'd rigged to look after them.
The Lawnbot had needed some new features, but they were easy enough to implement, overriding the basic programming.
"Dad? I fixed the Galnet access in the cellar, the micronode was turned off."
"What? No!" He stomped down, unlocked the door and stood in front of a green patch where the onionhead seedlings had started to blossom. The automatic firmware refresh had reactivated the default fairway trim.
And what do we have here? in the card packet beside the jokers and that funny card that explains the rules, there was a card that wasn't dealt out before the game started...
** - insanephoton - Moderator Squadron in action
"This is a the Federal Security Service. Cut you engines and submit to scanning"
The Imperial Clipper continued without response
"Damn I hope it isn't that visiting Imperial aristo. We don't want to cause a diplomatic incident."
"Yeah, that would be bad for our careers. The crew that delayed her and senator Waggler got busted down to the ranks"
"Ok the scan says the ship is the 'Mister Onion' registered to Commander Mike Snos"
"He's a well known rogue. Still not responding?"
"No, nothing"
"We shall have to cripple 'Mister Onion' then. Open fire"
The Moderators always got their man.
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