Pnårp’s October, 2007 odds & ends

This is Phillip Norbert Årp’s spaceship

Diseased prior to October 7, 2007

Tags: feet, toes, Alyssa Milano, death, eigen, feces, gnomes, Neptune, outer space, Loquisha.

As the ship sailed past Mars, I realized my eigenslave helmsman was an idiot, and beat him thoroughly. “I said the closest planet, you unga-bungler!” I howled as blow after blow rained down upon him, courtesy of yours truly.

As the ship zoomed through the asteroid belt, I realized that my eigenslave helmsman was truly an idiot, so I beat him even more thoroughly than when we had passed Mars. “Why didn’t you turn this ship around!?” I demanded to know as I caved in his cranium with my fists. He answered with a sort of choked burbling sound, so I beat him all the more.

As the ship zipped by Jupiter and nearly collided with one of its many moons, I tossed my eigenslave helmsman out of an airlock and tried to turn the ship around myself. “I said, ‘Turn this turd-bored ship around!’” I screamed at myself, slamming myself into the bulkheads in an effort to beat myself into following my own instructions. The ship continued toward Neptune.

Then realizing that I had forgotten to give the ship a name, I quickly gave myself another beating to motivate me to do so. Having become properly motivated, I thought for a while, then decided upon the name Alyssa Milano’s Feet. Remembering I had already had a ship named the Alyssa Milano’s Feet, I set upon myself with fists and truncheons again, for longer this time, to make sure I didn’t do anything else stupid. I thought and thought, and finally arrived at a decision: The ship would be christened the Alyssa Milano’s Toes.

Climbing out into the æther in order to stencil the name in six places on the hull proved to be as arduous a task as building the ship in the first place. Once again, the universe seemed intent on proving that the æther didn’t exist, and that space was truly a vacuum—as soon as I exited the ship, I began gasping for breath and my eyes exploded from my head. Blinded, I climbed back in, groped around for my spare cornea set, and went about building myself a “space suit” so I could safely crawl along the hull of the ship and paint it’s name all over it.

Then it struck me: I had already had a ship named the Alyssa Milano’s Toes, too. I once again punished myself for stupidity by banging my head against a bulkhead until my skull split open. Quickly gathering up my brains, pouring them back into my shattered skull, and stitching up the mess, I again resumed conjuring up a name from the dark, empty void that was my mind.

Then it struck me again: “it” being a micro-meteoroid, but traveling fast enough to blow part of my torso off. Ah, well… you win some, you lose some… and I just happened to lose the part of my torso containing my heart and lungs.

“A-ha! I’ve got it!” I leapt to my feet and quickly donned my “space suit,” then slipped out the airlock and began crawling across the hull, painting the name in as many places as it would fit. After six hours, satisfied that the ship was prominently labeled as Phillip Norbert Årp’s spaceship, I returned to the airlock, crawled inside, slew a legion of gnomes waiting to ambush me, then once again galloped up to the bridge and flopped down in the command chair. As the eigenslaves slaved away powering the Soles of Loquisha, I dozed quietly in my chair and dreamed of the soles of Loquisha…

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Graceful as Loquisha’s soles

Danced with on October 14, 2007

Tags: feet, corn, cornpones, death, eigen, environmental disaster, Neptune, outer space, sandals, Loquisha.

The Soles of Loquisha glided into orbit of Neptune late in the evening on Tuesday, as graceful as the soles after which she was named. An eigenslave hurried to my quarters to let me know we’d arrived.

“You eigenslaves said Wednesday! Wed-nes-day, you jungle-bunglers!” I screamed, enraged, pronouncing each syllable slowly so it would sink into his beady little skull. It didn’t seem to, so I instead sank my fist into his skull.

“And another thing… I! am! eating! my! blunch!” I continued, walloping him to punctuate each word. He squeaked something about blunch being intended for midday, not evening, with which I reluctantly agreed. He was correct. I therefore had only one choice, and I immediately and gleefully chose it: I dumped the entire bowl of scalding-hot cornpone stew over his head. “Corn… gone wrong! Now get back down to the engine room and feed yourself to the main reactor!” He groveled and scuttled away obediently. I made my way to the bridge, galloping all the way once again.

I demanded that the eigenslaves milling about the bridge bring Neptune up on the main screen, which they dutifully did. There no longer being any need for them to inhabit the bridge, I slew them all quickly, then sat down in my command chair to eye the deep blue planet. The planet stared back at me from the screen, dark and foreboding. Or something. Whatever it was, it made me nervous as a schoolgirl approached by an old man with an offering of candy if only I would get in the car with him.

I proceeded to stare down Neptune, grimly eyeing the planet as it eyed me with its own steely visage. I set my jaw and glared—nay, glowered—into the image in front of me. Finally, it was Neptune who blinked first. I leapt to my feet, cackling with triumphant glee as the planet withered and shrunk away from me, shifting its orbit outward and wrecking the entire solar system. “I win! I win! Me, me, me!” I clapped my hands and called a host of eigenslaves to the bridge to share in my merrymaking.

My merrymaking thus shared, I slew these eigenslaves as quickly as the first batch. Most of the eigenslaves gone, and Neptune having lost a battle of wills with yours truly, I decided on the only course of action possible: taking a shuttle down to the planet’s surface and staking a claim for myself. I would build myself a new house, ensure it was as demonically possessed as my last one so that no matter how many times it burned down it would reassemble itself, and live out the rest of my days here on the deep blue face of Neptune.

As I write this, the shuttle Loquisha’s Sandals descends toward the surface.

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The deep blue face of failure

Done wrong on October 21, 2007

Tags: feet, bouillabaisse, cows, death, eigen, gnomes, insect goddess, Neptune, nose, outer space, sandals, schtupp, Loquisha.

Unfortunately, I encountered a small problem regarding the surface of Neptune: There is none.

At least, none that I could find. I took the Loquisha’s Sandals down through the dense atmosphere as far as she would go, and before reaching anything solid we had popped out the other side. Not so easily thwarted, I took her back down through that side, and we popped out again directly below the Soles of Loquisha, almost running into her. Realizing my plan to stake a claim to some land on Neptune may have been a bit poorly thought out, I tried sixteen more times to land the Sandals on the surface of Neptune, failing each and every time.

Finally, I returned to the Soles and went back to pondering my next steps. Realizing that Neptune possessed a multitude of natural satellites, I picked the biggest—after all, gravity would be required if I were to “land” in any meaningful sense of the word—and set out once again aboard the Loquisha’s Sandals. The moon was big, round, dark brown in color, and the surface was as smooth as Loquisha’s behind—thus I thought it would be most fitting if I named it Loquisha, after Loquisha herself. I didn’t know if it had a name yet, nor did I care—now, and forever afterward, it would be called Loquisha. If some pinheaded astronomer wanted to call it something different, he’d have to go through me now.

I returned to the Soles of Loquisha and landed her on Loquisha’s surface, converting her into a dwelling of sorts. I drew a border around a few thousand square kilometers of the satellite, with some chalk I kept up my nostrils for just such a need, and christened the land within New Bouillabaissia. Calling on the awesome powers of Strahazazhia Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps, voluptuous insect goddess and creator of gnomekind, I conjured up a host of fifteen million tiny gnomes to serve as my subjects.

In addition to the chalk up my nose, the Pocket Pope I always keep with me also finally came in handy—in a ceremony rivaling the crowning of Charlemagne, I was crowned King of Bouillabaissia in front of all fifteen million of my subjects. The gnomes wept in delight at the sight of their new monarch.

A third of the remaining eigenslaves aboard the Soles of Loquisha were put to work in the mines beneath Loquisha’s surface, another third were put to work building temples and palaces for yours truly, and the third third were executed by public cow-schtupping as a warning to the rest of the eigenslaves. 1,258 of my gnomely subjects were put to work building mud huts for all 15,000,000 of them. A massive concrete wall was erected on my dotted chalk line around New Bouillabaissia, twenty feet high and replete with razor wire, guard posts, and machine gun nests. A higher, even stronger wall was erected around the Soles of Loquisha, which became New Bouillabaissia’s capital. The Loquisha’s Sandals was converted into the first ever temple devoted to the worship of the insect goddess. Finally, with much fanfare and capricious cruelty directed towards my helpless subjects, I took up residence in my new palace and went to work crafting a title for myself not less than six thousand words.

Hail to the King, baby!

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Strahazazhia smiles upon me

Gone wrong on October 28, 2007

Tags: ankles, Alyssa Milano, Britney Spears, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Spice Girls, bouillabaisse, cockroaches, cows, death, eigen, geese, gnomes, gorillas, hamsters, insect goddess, pi, sex, schtupp, Ravna Olegg-Thorssondóttir.

On Monday, I prayed to Strahazazhia Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps, voluptuous insect goddess and creator of gnomekind, to grant me additional subjects, in the form of hamsters. Strahazazhia smiled upon me, for she created for me a host of hamsters numbering twenty-five million and two. I settled the hamster subjects in the southern quarter of New Bouillabaissia, and put them to work as hewers of grain, to feed my kingdom.

On Tuesday, I prayed to Strahazazhia Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps, voluptuous insect goddess, creator of hamsters and gnomekind, to grant me additional subjects: an army of floating pis. The goddess smiled upon me once again, for she created for me an army of floating pis numbering fifty million and four. I set the floating pis to guarding my kingdom: patrolling the borders, ferreting out dissenters, and crushing rebellion wherever it occurred.

On Wednesday, I prayed to Strahazazhia Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps, voluptuous insect goddess, creator of floating pis, hamsters, and gnomekind, to grant me additional subjects: geese, geese, and more geese. The goddess smiled upon me once again, for she created for me a magnificent flock of geese numbering one-hundred million and eight. I set the geese to work in New Bouillabaissia’s brothels and pleasure domes, where they performed their duties with renown. Honk, honk!

On Thursday, I prayed to Strahazazhia Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps, voluptuous insect goddess, creator of comfort geese, floating pis, hamsters, and gnomekind, to grant me additional subjects, this time in the form of gorillas. The goddess smiled upon me once again, for she created for me a clutch of gorillas numbering two-hundred million and sixteen. There was really nothing for them to do, so I sent my eigenslaves back to Earth aboard my newly-built flagship, the NBS Jennifer Love’s Ankles, to kidnap Ravna Olegg-Thorssondóttir and deliver her to the gorillas as a plaything, which they did. Ravna is very, very busy these days.

On Friday, I prayed to Strahazazhia Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps, voluptuous insect goddess, creator of randy gorillas, comfort geese, floating pis, hamsters, and gnomekind, to grant me additional subjects, in any form she chose, in order to build thousands of new temples in honor of Her Insectness herself. The goddess smiled upon me once again, for she created for me a swarm of golden cockroaches numbering four-hundred million and thirty-two. Their wings glittering in the sunlight, the cockroaches went about building 6,128¼ temples and ziggurats, all of which were dedicated to Strahazazhia Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps, voluptuous insect goddess, creator of golden cockroaches, randy gorillas, comfort geese, floating pis, hamsters, and gnomekind. (¾ of the final temple were employed as a hidey-hole for Ravna, for days when she didn’t want to deal with the gorillas.)

On Saturday, I prayed one last time to Strahazazhia Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps, voluptuous insect goddess, creator of golden cockroaches, randy gorillas, comfort geese, floating pis, hamsters, and gnomekind, to grant me additional subjects: Alyssa Milano, the Spice Girls, Britney Spears, Jennifer Love Hewitt, and at least a few of the Jack-Off Jill girls. The goddess laughed at me and told me that some things were simply impossible, even for an omnipotent insect goddess—even the one of the six-legged delights. I begged and pleaded, hemmed and hawed, squeaked and squawked, but finally accepted that I would have to make do with flocks of geese. Honk… honk…

And on Sunday, I declared a day of rest, and demanded that all my subjects, and the subjects of every other kingdom everywhere throughout the universe, observe it on pain and penalty of death by cow-schtupping (naturally).

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