Feast your eyes on these delights
01 - T.j - The joys of being a Frontier Moderator.
The stench was unbelievable, I held my breath as I dug in again,
I was sure I would pass out..... soon(tm)
I emptied the airlock for the umpteenth time, my eyes stung as my olfactory system mercifully shut down to protect itself from imploding.
I wished to God I'd hidden when the PM arrived.
Mucking out Psykokow wasn't what I had in mind when I become a Moderator.
Why the hell did Michael give him Haggis Curry again???
Should the ships hull actually melt like that???
I sighed in blessed relief as the hull gave out and my torture ended.
02 - Frank - Aerosol Spray
Bob wore an immaculate boilersuit. He pored over the holodisplays in his plush office. The heatpumps had run longer than recommended but he liked to use every opportunity he could to shed as much heat as possible.
He hadn't needed to contact docking control but felt it was a common courtesy. He barked a command at the console. "Purge!"
An Orca Cruiser just happened to be at the correct position for the star's light to refract through the droplets. The passengers ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the iridescent spirals wafting from the station.
The pilot left the rest of his sandwich.
03 - Galactic midden - spills and thrills
Mopping up, as he called it, was what Jake Loth enjoyed the most about his job.
He'd worked for his boss Broo Mandel for three months in Cleanups Removals And Placements, when he experienced his latest brush with the filthy underhand tactics of rival corporations.
The instigators were unscrupulous liquidation firm Debt-All and the indiscreet "cleaner" for hire agencies Die Son and Clean Ex. Together they'd exposed CEO Bo Tumdaribble's fetish with dairy in the Kowgate scandal. Now he had to go.
Jake Loth smiled as he signalled for wipe mode, happy to have got rid of that udder embarrassment.
04 - Psykokow - Wash your face!
He used all his strength to squeeze his frame into the tight onesie, its strong elastic burst into life pulling his flabby body into a more pleasing shape.
The shoes where uncomfortable and tricky to walk in, but it was a necessary suffering.
Smearing mustard over his face he smiled as he headed out onto the stage.
Federation military had long subscribed to entertaining the troops with the biggest acts in galactic music, but something was very wrong as boos echoed into the air when Ian Phillips took the stage to sing.
Admiral Frank, checked the form.. See Ian Djion.
05 - Falkenherz - - untitled - (98)
"... aww, man, those panicky bureaucrats, I tell ya! Thought I could make some good rep for a change, make some of them alleged pirate scum suck vaccum. Naw, man, nothing. Some dodgy Siders you dinna know what they play, some lonely haulers. Only suspi´cuz Viper I caught warped the moment my cannons swung at his dirty very much wanted kohlrabi!"
"Well, erm", replies one of them, "actually, it might be that we are those they write about in GalNet News Transmissions..."
Oooops.
- last reported surveillance data before firefight in "The Rusty Bucket", Freeport, Level -12, Corridor 18
06 - Listeri69 - A man of many talents.......
Admiral Frank checked the remainder of the list....
See Ian Dijon went down badly, but what's Agent P doing with that Huge Pan.
Cooking with P, a demonstration of the best of Chinese and Lavian cooking.
Agent P arrived on the stage naked apart from a plastic apron.
Suddenly the music started and the lights dimmed, a red glow lit up the auditorium
First I'm going to take some Trumble and chop it finely, then take some garlic. Agent P started to take off his apron
the crowd gasped. 'Well someones got to do the "flirty wok" Said Agent P
07 - Ian Phillips - You first
"There is NOTHING that would induce me to go in there!"
"Well, someone's got to do it."
"Absolutely - someone who is NOT me."
"He's harmless enough, and dressed up in that pink onsie he's also pretty cute.
"CUTE? You call that.... travesty of a human being, CUTE?""
"Tell you what - If you think he's so 'cute' you go and break the news to him."
"Well - OK then."
Psykokow opened the door and cautiously went in.
Reighdar slammed the door yelling "Frank, the Janx is finished!" as he locked it.
He sauntered away happily humming an old
tune.
08 - insanephoton - Cleaning up for Michael
In the bowels of the station Ian opened a hatch and beckoned Kow to follow him.
'Are you sure this is the place, Ian? It stinks'
'You know what the Moderator Society is like. We don't want outsiders to know our secrets.'
'I know, but you'd think they could find somewhere nicer'
'This is the place'
'Where is everyone?' Kow asked just as Ian struck his head with a wrench. Ian then rolled the body off the gantry into the whirling blades of the effluent treatment plant below.
Michael's orders had been clear. 'Dispose of Kow and leave no trace.'
09 - Erik Marcaigh - Another "Let's Pick On Psykokow" Drabble
Asha lowed and went a bit unsteady on her hooves.
"What's the matter, dear," he asked as he led her to the barn. "The heat's been too much for us both."
Kalran stepped back out and looked over his crops. Asha could only produce so much fertilizer, and the canister that used to have Frank inside had gone to pot.
A few hours later, he was in the marketplace, pinching manure, sniffing it, and tasting it. Coming across one specimen that was about as rotten as Frank's carcass was.
"How much for the cow?"
"Ain't a cow. It's a Psykokow."
10 - Splendour - It's good working for the filth.
Soft music played as the pilots stood around looking uncomfortable in hired suits. On one wall a banner was projected proclaiming ‘The Reorte Pilots Federation, Class of ’89 Reunion’
Shen spotted Doris at the bar as usual, and strolled over.
“How’s business?” she asked.
“Crap for traders.” Doris sighed. “You coppers are like pigs in muck with these pirates to chase. With ‘taxes’ I just can’t make ends meet.”
“Really? I though you said the trade was sh*t hot?”
“The bottom dropped out of the market. Turns out biowaste is just hot sh*t. Or frozen sh*t once you’ve jettisoned it.”
11 - MrMogadon - A Misunderstanding
The muted strains of legendary Mauves phimbralist, Quince Pompadieu floated gently in the air and the silver speckled slate walls of the hallway ran like a fairy’s wish towards the black onyx table at the end of the hall.
Turning left at the table, the two heavily armed thugs moved towards the spacious, opulent lounge area. “Sean, you said he was a plumber", whispered Mad Mick. "This ‘aint no plumber’s gaff?” .
‘I think he misunderstood “wet work” during his briefing‘, a quiet voice suggested, as the blade entered the rear of Sean’s neck, severing the spinal cord. ‘Let’s chat’
12 - azdour - Revenge is best served gold
The station commander laughed evilly as the secret station in Slough came to life for the first time.
Canisters sped along the maglev lanes hurtling towards the many waiting transport ships.
First stage: reprogram the canister to give it the id of gold.
Second stage: fill with toxic waste.
A full transporter would then fly to random places in the galaxy, dropping the canisters and leave an unknown signal emitter.
Soon reports spread of commanders arrested for selling waste as gold or better still, stations destroying them.
The commander smiled, “That will teach them to dump their dirty work here”.
