12-15-2006, 12:31 AM
IST Christmas Special 2006
Simon Bitterbuck did not consider himself a brave man; he did not consider himself a paragon of courage; but there were times when one had to take a stand, and hope that the responding bullet did not have his name on it. So he spoke. There was a brief pause, the minor shuffling of paper, and then the response.
Fate was not kind. For the response was not a bullet. It was a barrage of fragmentation grenades, each one exploding into thousands of high velocity fragments. Shrapnel, unlike bullets, is not individually addressed. Shrapnel comes addressed only to occupant.
In this case, the grenades, shrapnel and all inclusive addressing was being issued by his partner in crime, amongst other things, Naoko Yoshida. Naoko was not happy. Not happy at all. Not all of this unhappiness could be laid directly at her feet. Most could. The reason was that Naoko had been unable, or unwilling, to take the hint. The hinter in question was Miguel Macho Santos, who was her Santa of choice for the IST charity Santas grotto. Miguel had not been available for the last two years, and had been sending gentle messages to Naoko, that this year would not be different. Naoko had taken these messages to be an uncertainty rather than a refusal. The most recent communication had been as unsubtle as the previous ones had been gentle. It had been no; for this year, and all years henceforth.
Simons command of the Japanese language was reasonable, but the tirade that followed was well past his ability to decipher it. The speed was breathtaking, the delivery unrelenting, with the barest pauses as Naoko refueled her lungs to continue. They were not personal attacks at Miguel; for her faults Naoko was a bigger person than that; merely at an unsympathetic universe that would somehow conspire to deprive her of a Santa on the eve of her meticulously planned and promoted event. If the unsympathetic universe had the capacity to be embarrassed, it would have shone a glowing red from nebula to black hole.
Simon weathered it stoically, waiting for one of two events. The first would be that Naoko would run out of invectives and calm down; the second would be that Naoko would run out of oxygen and pass out. So he waited, keeping his game face set to sympathetic, occasionally nodding along in agreement with whatever burst of high-speed Japanese frustration-fuelled vitriol that Naoko was spraying. He diligently avoided looking at his watch, the office clock, or the small time icon in the corner of his computer screen. It would be more painless and infinitely more pleasant to stare at the ugly, snake snarled, face of Medusa herself, as an eternity in stone would be preferable to the slightest possibility of Naokos wrath latching onto him for questioning the amount of time she was taking out of her busy day to condemn the universe for making her life difficult.
It was a testament to her endurance and verbal creativity that Naoko was able to continue for as long as she did; but finally the tide of her reaction ebbed, fading off as she slumped against this piles of papers that covered her desk. Simon waited. The tide was receding, but there could still be a dangerous undertow that could seriously damage his professional relationship, not to mention his sex life.
So Miguel is out. Simon consulted a list on his screen. However I lined up a backup list of Santas; Bullsrush has agreed to do it, if he cant make it Foe-Hammer has agreed to be a backup.
The smile that blossomed on Naokos face was a beautiful thing. Her white teeth shone, her freckled cheeks dimpled, and Simon tried not to notice that certain things had suddenly become visible through her shirt. He didnt have long to consider it as Naoko launched herself across the room and landed in his lap. This was a victory; but not one he could claim as his own. After the conclusion of last years Christmas debacle, Thibor had made it a priority for Simon to put it in place a plan of multiple backup Santas, in the event that Naoko was once again caught one jolly old elf short. Simon had done so. Thibor had not made any overt threats; but had left Simon with the impression that being dragged Santa-side one more time would lead to Christmas being cancelled for Simon. Or more precisely Simon being cancelled prior to Christmas.
God bless us. Simon thought in reverent Tiny Tim fashion as Naoko excitedly clung to him. Every last one of us.
* * *
Note for next year. Thibor fixed Simon with a dark and dangerous stare. Is making sure salmon is not being served in cafeteria for days leading up to Santas grotto charity event.
Affirmative Major. Simon lugged the huge bag of toys beside the throne.
Am still not sure why is needing me. Thibor allowed Cammy to stuff the pillow under his Santa Claus suit. Is still having two others.
Thibor. Cammy considered her response for a moment. Grace and dignity were to be entirely absent from it. Bullsrush and Foe-Hammer are presently vomiting and stricken with the most frightful diarrhea. Do you really think it would be preferable to have them here?
Is just like kids. Thibor winced, tugging at the white beard that was glued to his chin. Would fit right in; and would add authentic grandfather smell to whole Father Christmas experience.
Thibor! Naokos face screwed up in a wince. Gross!
Let it be. Cammy cautioned. Hes just getting it out of his system.
Is same thing being said about Bulls and Foe. Thibor scowled. But am one here in suit, not them.
Rather. Cammy agreed, trying to change the subject. At least the other costumes this year are somewhat more restrained.
The observation did little to improve Thibors mood. Rather than the incredible short skirts of the previous years, Cammy and Naoko were in tight, well cut pants and seasonal tunics. While still sexy, the presentation lacked out and out impropriety. The British had a suitable phrase for such situations. Bugger it all. Drastic times caused for drastic measures.
Simon. Is going to cafeteria and getting all remaining salmon. Thibor grated. If is meaning dumpster diving, dumpster dive.
Belay that order. Cammy said tartly. Thibor, I have personally witnessed you eat a three day old porcupine, quills and all, like an apple. It is unlikely that a little dodgy salmon is going to render you unfit for duty.
Am wounded. Thibor slumped in the chair. Was down to last of rations, and gave them to you.
Yes, and it was very sweet of you. Cammy noted. Even if I did not let you kiss me again until you gargled.
Quills and all? Naokos eyes were wide. Thibor resisted doing a double take. It took a lot to impress Naoko in gustatory matters; and given some of the rare, expensive and somewhat disgusting Japanese delicacies she had conned him into paying for over the years; it was flattering. Okay, lets hear it.
Ho! Ho! Ho Thibor boomed, his belly shaking. Ho! Ho! Ho!
Naoko gaped and Cammy tried desperately to keep an approving smile from crossing her lips. It might have been premature; Thibor had to be holding something back. The pause grew longer. Cammy felt her lips quirk into a smile. It was genuine. No off colour comment. No sarcasm. No irony. Nothing. Rather disappointing; and so unlike Thibor. Perhaps it was time to work on the monograph on the domestication of the wild, untamed werewolf and
It was easy to forget how supernaturally fast Thibor was. While Cammys reaction time was even faster, Thibor was capable of moving at speeds that belied the huge size of his wolfen form; and he had caught her in a moment of distracted introspection. The Santa suit swelled alarmingly as Thibor blurred out of the chair and slashed at her with razor sharp claws. By the time Naoko had managed a small, terrified eeping noise, Thibor had resumed his human form and his seat.
Perhaps domestication was too strong a word; unless it also encompassed beating said aforementioned werewolf flat as a rug. Thibors claws had neatly shorn Cammys pants into ribbons, the remainder resembling a very, very short pair of fringed hot pants. Her tunic had been daringly re-cut to feature a plunging neckline and bare belly. Naoko had fared only slightly better; her shorts were somewhat longer and her neckline not nearly so daring. She was gasping, her hands darting to the neatly cut edges of the cloth to ensure that the skin underneath had not been sliced with equal efficiency. Cammy merely crossed her arms over her somewhat exposed chest and glared.
Bring it on. Thibor grinned wolfishly and chuckled from behind his beard.
* * *
Its over. Naoko slumped beside the chair. We did it.
Yes, rather. Good show. Cammy hid a yawn behind her hand. Whats more, we were not attacked by anything more homicidal and dangerous than a five year old who failed to receive an X-Box last year.
Is true. Thibor nodded along with them. And is nice thing about being attacked by five year old. Is not able to take punch. One shot! Blam! Is over.
The curtain to the grotto parted and a small, gloved hand thrust through.
Sorry, were finished. Santa has to go back to the North Pole. Naoko explained. The hand thrust further through the curtain, followed by a silver sheathed arm, a shoulder, and finally a bulbous gray head with strange, overlarge eyes. It wasnt human, not even close, and the device clutched in the other hand had a shape that did not hint at a dread purpose; but screamed it loudly for everyone within earshot to hear.
Earthlings. The creature squawked, the voice emerged from a small box located under its chin. You shall surrender Santa Claus and his technology to us, or we shall lay waste to your city.
Oh go pull the other one. Cammy managed after a moments consideration. Look, the fun and games are over. I dont know who put you up to this, but there is no reason to
She stopped as a large beam of light cut through the ceiling. The night sky above was dotted with a dozen silvery, flying saucers. The wheeled around a larger, central saucer, like the dishes rotating around the rim of a lazy Susan.
We have journeyed from the cluster of stars you call Virgo. Our research indicates that Santa is capable of terrestrial locomotion in speeds that allow him to reach every single home on your world in a single night. This is a technology well and beyond anything that we possess. You will hand over Santa to us; or we will probe you.
How utterly wretched of you. Cammy noted disapprovingly. I dont suppose that your research also indicated that Santa Claus is actually a creature of myth, and not real.
Yes Virg-aliens, is not Santa clause. Thibor added. Look, is having many qualified alien liaisons on planet, would be happy to speak with you on establishing diplomatic relationship with inhabitants of earth.
The alien pointed his device at Thibor and depressed the firing stud. A bolt of bright blue energy crashed into the throne. It missed Thibor, who had leapt straight up, taking on his werewolf aspect. He landed among the splinters and tore the long white beard from his elongated, wolfish chin. The alien looked decidedly put out that the old, fat, earth creature had suddenly become a slightly more dangerous looking old, fat, earth creature. It re-evaluated the fat portion as the werewolf barely sidestepped a second beam, his bulging belly exploding in a mass of charred feathers.
Naughty! Cammy pronounced. Her left leg kicked up almost to her ear, and she drove the heel down in a brutal axe kick onto the crown of the aliens head. Thibor had a momentary situational disconnect. For reasons unknown to him at the time, his minds eye held the image of John Belushi cavorting in a cafeteria and uttering the famous line Im a zit; get it?. The reason for this was entirely understandable; under the force of Cammys kick the aliens head exploded outward in an almost biblical deluge of green goo. It splashed all over Cammy and Naoko, and would have festively decorated his own fur, had he not jumped away. The alien; having been suddenly rendered headless, dropped its weapon and took three uncertain steps. The voice box crackled with static for a moment and then a pronouncement was made.
Now youve made me simply furious. A grayish bulb sprouted in the greenish stump of the aliens neck and then inflated until the creatures head was completely restored. It turned towards Cammy, stooping slightly to scoop up its weapon from the floor. As it oriented on her, Thibor stepped behind it and brought his palms together in an exaggerated clapping motion. The head exploded again, but in deference to his commanders sensibilities, Thibors huge hands carefully redirected the spray away from her. Naoko was not so fortunate as the wave of green goo coated her from bob cut to comfortable, sensible shoes. She wiped the worst of it from her large, round glasses and glared at Thibor and the alien. Thibor shrugged, while the alien shook violently. A new head poked free and quickly inflated.
Stop that! The voice box took on a petulant tone. My race cannot be truly harmed by such crude means.
Okay. Different crude means. Thibor seized the Alien by the throat and with quick, economical motions, ripped off both arms and both legs, ignoring the geysers of green ichors that sprayed haphazardly about the room. He dropped the alien onto the floor, and then raised a heavily booted foot and brought it down, smashing a crater in the creatures chest. He popped the head again for good measure too.
I mean it! Stop! I shall destroy your city! The alien thrashed as new limbs and a slightly put out looking head sprouted and inflated. It regained its feet and glared at Thibor with strange, black eyes. Thibor considered it for a moment. It was possible that the combined forces above were sufficient to level London. It was also unlikely, as an IST response Team would be on route and the combination of Meernarian ships and several irate heroes would likely put a very conclusive end to the inane invasion. The threat had to be minimal. Any alien race that showed up and tried to threaten Santa Claus with kidnapping was by definition, not advanced enough to take seriously as a threat. There were a series of pops as dozen more aliens materialized around them.
Is going to get ass kicked. Thibor growled and cracked his knuckles.
Cammy started to move to cover Thibors back, but was brought up short. For the briefest of seconds something had passed over the Aliens pupil less black eyes. It was fear. She glanced at Naoko, who had made the same connection. It was utterly logical, supremely simple, and completely and utterly revolting.
That is precisely what you are going to do major. Cammy smiled as she dropped into a fighting stance. I always wondered why these rotters had such a pronounced bottie-probing fetish. Somewhat less poetic than the weakness displayed by Achilles, but it will do.
You wouldnt The alien leader blanched, its gray skin taking on a sickly, ashen hue. Thibors huge, clawed hand reached down and plucked him off the ground, turned him around and tossed him lightly into the air. The huge werewolf scuttled backwards and then took two steps forward, his booted foot striking the aliens arse with pile driver force. The alien exploded in a truly torrential spray of green goo that covered every surface in the room with sticky green gunk. The voice box dropped to the ground with a wet splat.
A tactical retreat may be necessary. The voice box announced, the sound muffled by a thick layer of slime.
Cannon Spike! It was no unlike a game of billiards Cammy thought as she jumped off of one wall and drove herself at the aliens. It was just a matter of fixing the angle properly, so the path of her attack took her through the path of well least resistance was probably not the most accurate term for it; but is sounded far better than the alternative. She closed her eyes and mouth and thought about the good things. Royal weddings. Picnics in the forest. Feeding stray cats. Anything but threading oneself like a needle through the arses of invading aliens, causing them to explode violently into puddles of sticky, green goo.
Hi-Yah! Whoop! Naoko tried a kick but ended up going arse over tip as her shoes lost purchase in the green muck on the floor. Her gymnastics training came to her rescue as she turned the inadvertent pratfall into a flip. Perhaps the Russian judge would have been harsh, but the Germans, Italians and British would have applauded as she landed, on her feet and then proceeded to fall forwards, her forehead making excessive contact with a pair of alien buttocks, which, along with the alien to which they were attached, exploded violently.
Is Little Miss Yoshida using head for change. Thibor nodded approvingly as he decimated the aliens around him, ignoring the blue beams of energy that left smoking patches of burnt fur on his chest, back, and backside. Two aliens, in a display of intelligence, backed themselves against a wall. It was a sound strategy in theory, but the practice of such had never had to deal with the likes of Thibor. The werewolf thrust clawed hands through the aliens bellies, reached down and grabbed. The afore mentioned claws sinking into gray gluteus tissue until the aliens popped like gerbils in a microwave.
It was over in moments. The remaining aliens popped out of existence, transported back to their ships. All that was left behind was a Santas grotto, a knee deep puddle of green slime, two Christmas elves, also completely matted in green slime, and a dripping, seven foot tall werewolf.
That was disgusting. Naoko announced. She took off her glasses to wipe them, but could find no clean surface upon which to do so. She settled for redistributing the slime on them to offer her a clearer picture of the situation.
I heartily agree. Cammy agreed. She walked behind Thibor and grabbed his tail. While just a sodden as everything else in the room, it provided a surface to allow her to squeegee off the worst of the muck.
Were green! Simon called into the grotto. The aliens have signaled their surrender.
Is not easy being green. Thibor crouched slightly in preparation for an epic shake; he was brought up short by a sidelong glance from Cammy.
Its worse if youre gray. Simon winced as Naoko un-tucked his shirt and used the tail to fastidiously wipe her glasses. She considered for a moment and then used the remaining un-sodden cloth to wipe the clingy green slime from her face. After another moments consideration, she tucked his shirt back in.
Roight then. Colonel Byrd breezed in, gloriously ignoring the way that the green muck topped his boots. Good work the lot of you. Top drawer. Weve received word from the planet of the little gray buggers. Bit of a cock up, but they disavow all knowledge of this lot and wish to offer their thanks for apprehending em.
Well then. Cammy tried not to wince as Thibor saluted vigorously, the motion liberally splattering green muck across Colonel Byrds uniform. Sir, if there is nothing else for the moment, may we have leave to get cleaned up?
Fraid not ducks. Byrd smiled maliciously. Quarantine. Best be sure theres not something off with these buggers that could infect the ole planet. Weve got the area cordoned off, but itll be a bit.
Will we be out before Christmas? Naoko asked plaintively, visions of her non-refundable plane tickets dancing in her head.
Course ducks. Byrd smiled. Youll be out in plenty time for kringle, 2007.
Simon Bitterbuck did not consider himself a brave man; he did not consider himself a paragon of courage; but there were times when one had to take a stand, and hope that the responding bullet did not have his name on it. So he spoke. There was a brief pause, the minor shuffling of paper, and then the response.
Fate was not kind. For the response was not a bullet. It was a barrage of fragmentation grenades, each one exploding into thousands of high velocity fragments. Shrapnel, unlike bullets, is not individually addressed. Shrapnel comes addressed only to occupant.
In this case, the grenades, shrapnel and all inclusive addressing was being issued by his partner in crime, amongst other things, Naoko Yoshida. Naoko was not happy. Not happy at all. Not all of this unhappiness could be laid directly at her feet. Most could. The reason was that Naoko had been unable, or unwilling, to take the hint. The hinter in question was Miguel Macho Santos, who was her Santa of choice for the IST charity Santas grotto. Miguel had not been available for the last two years, and had been sending gentle messages to Naoko, that this year would not be different. Naoko had taken these messages to be an uncertainty rather than a refusal. The most recent communication had been as unsubtle as the previous ones had been gentle. It had been no; for this year, and all years henceforth.
Simons command of the Japanese language was reasonable, but the tirade that followed was well past his ability to decipher it. The speed was breathtaking, the delivery unrelenting, with the barest pauses as Naoko refueled her lungs to continue. They were not personal attacks at Miguel; for her faults Naoko was a bigger person than that; merely at an unsympathetic universe that would somehow conspire to deprive her of a Santa on the eve of her meticulously planned and promoted event. If the unsympathetic universe had the capacity to be embarrassed, it would have shone a glowing red from nebula to black hole.
Simon weathered it stoically, waiting for one of two events. The first would be that Naoko would run out of invectives and calm down; the second would be that Naoko would run out of oxygen and pass out. So he waited, keeping his game face set to sympathetic, occasionally nodding along in agreement with whatever burst of high-speed Japanese frustration-fuelled vitriol that Naoko was spraying. He diligently avoided looking at his watch, the office clock, or the small time icon in the corner of his computer screen. It would be more painless and infinitely more pleasant to stare at the ugly, snake snarled, face of Medusa herself, as an eternity in stone would be preferable to the slightest possibility of Naokos wrath latching onto him for questioning the amount of time she was taking out of her busy day to condemn the universe for making her life difficult.
It was a testament to her endurance and verbal creativity that Naoko was able to continue for as long as she did; but finally the tide of her reaction ebbed, fading off as she slumped against this piles of papers that covered her desk. Simon waited. The tide was receding, but there could still be a dangerous undertow that could seriously damage his professional relationship, not to mention his sex life.
So Miguel is out. Simon consulted a list on his screen. However I lined up a backup list of Santas; Bullsrush has agreed to do it, if he cant make it Foe-Hammer has agreed to be a backup.
The smile that blossomed on Naokos face was a beautiful thing. Her white teeth shone, her freckled cheeks dimpled, and Simon tried not to notice that certain things had suddenly become visible through her shirt. He didnt have long to consider it as Naoko launched herself across the room and landed in his lap. This was a victory; but not one he could claim as his own. After the conclusion of last years Christmas debacle, Thibor had made it a priority for Simon to put it in place a plan of multiple backup Santas, in the event that Naoko was once again caught one jolly old elf short. Simon had done so. Thibor had not made any overt threats; but had left Simon with the impression that being dragged Santa-side one more time would lead to Christmas being cancelled for Simon. Or more precisely Simon being cancelled prior to Christmas.
God bless us. Simon thought in reverent Tiny Tim fashion as Naoko excitedly clung to him. Every last one of us.
* * *
Note for next year. Thibor fixed Simon with a dark and dangerous stare. Is making sure salmon is not being served in cafeteria for days leading up to Santas grotto charity event.
Affirmative Major. Simon lugged the huge bag of toys beside the throne.
Am still not sure why is needing me. Thibor allowed Cammy to stuff the pillow under his Santa Claus suit. Is still having two others.
Thibor. Cammy considered her response for a moment. Grace and dignity were to be entirely absent from it. Bullsrush and Foe-Hammer are presently vomiting and stricken with the most frightful diarrhea. Do you really think it would be preferable to have them here?
Is just like kids. Thibor winced, tugging at the white beard that was glued to his chin. Would fit right in; and would add authentic grandfather smell to whole Father Christmas experience.
Thibor! Naokos face screwed up in a wince. Gross!
Let it be. Cammy cautioned. Hes just getting it out of his system.
Is same thing being said about Bulls and Foe. Thibor scowled. But am one here in suit, not them.
Rather. Cammy agreed, trying to change the subject. At least the other costumes this year are somewhat more restrained.
The observation did little to improve Thibors mood. Rather than the incredible short skirts of the previous years, Cammy and Naoko were in tight, well cut pants and seasonal tunics. While still sexy, the presentation lacked out and out impropriety. The British had a suitable phrase for such situations. Bugger it all. Drastic times caused for drastic measures.
Simon. Is going to cafeteria and getting all remaining salmon. Thibor grated. If is meaning dumpster diving, dumpster dive.
Belay that order. Cammy said tartly. Thibor, I have personally witnessed you eat a three day old porcupine, quills and all, like an apple. It is unlikely that a little dodgy salmon is going to render you unfit for duty.
Am wounded. Thibor slumped in the chair. Was down to last of rations, and gave them to you.
Yes, and it was very sweet of you. Cammy noted. Even if I did not let you kiss me again until you gargled.
Quills and all? Naokos eyes were wide. Thibor resisted doing a double take. It took a lot to impress Naoko in gustatory matters; and given some of the rare, expensive and somewhat disgusting Japanese delicacies she had conned him into paying for over the years; it was flattering. Okay, lets hear it.
Ho! Ho! Ho Thibor boomed, his belly shaking. Ho! Ho! Ho!
Naoko gaped and Cammy tried desperately to keep an approving smile from crossing her lips. It might have been premature; Thibor had to be holding something back. The pause grew longer. Cammy felt her lips quirk into a smile. It was genuine. No off colour comment. No sarcasm. No irony. Nothing. Rather disappointing; and so unlike Thibor. Perhaps it was time to work on the monograph on the domestication of the wild, untamed werewolf and
It was easy to forget how supernaturally fast Thibor was. While Cammys reaction time was even faster, Thibor was capable of moving at speeds that belied the huge size of his wolfen form; and he had caught her in a moment of distracted introspection. The Santa suit swelled alarmingly as Thibor blurred out of the chair and slashed at her with razor sharp claws. By the time Naoko had managed a small, terrified eeping noise, Thibor had resumed his human form and his seat.
Perhaps domestication was too strong a word; unless it also encompassed beating said aforementioned werewolf flat as a rug. Thibors claws had neatly shorn Cammys pants into ribbons, the remainder resembling a very, very short pair of fringed hot pants. Her tunic had been daringly re-cut to feature a plunging neckline and bare belly. Naoko had fared only slightly better; her shorts were somewhat longer and her neckline not nearly so daring. She was gasping, her hands darting to the neatly cut edges of the cloth to ensure that the skin underneath had not been sliced with equal efficiency. Cammy merely crossed her arms over her somewhat exposed chest and glared.
Bring it on. Thibor grinned wolfishly and chuckled from behind his beard.
* * *
Its over. Naoko slumped beside the chair. We did it.
Yes, rather. Good show. Cammy hid a yawn behind her hand. Whats more, we were not attacked by anything more homicidal and dangerous than a five year old who failed to receive an X-Box last year.
Is true. Thibor nodded along with them. And is nice thing about being attacked by five year old. Is not able to take punch. One shot! Blam! Is over.
The curtain to the grotto parted and a small, gloved hand thrust through.
Sorry, were finished. Santa has to go back to the North Pole. Naoko explained. The hand thrust further through the curtain, followed by a silver sheathed arm, a shoulder, and finally a bulbous gray head with strange, overlarge eyes. It wasnt human, not even close, and the device clutched in the other hand had a shape that did not hint at a dread purpose; but screamed it loudly for everyone within earshot to hear.
Earthlings. The creature squawked, the voice emerged from a small box located under its chin. You shall surrender Santa Claus and his technology to us, or we shall lay waste to your city.
Oh go pull the other one. Cammy managed after a moments consideration. Look, the fun and games are over. I dont know who put you up to this, but there is no reason to
She stopped as a large beam of light cut through the ceiling. The night sky above was dotted with a dozen silvery, flying saucers. The wheeled around a larger, central saucer, like the dishes rotating around the rim of a lazy Susan.
We have journeyed from the cluster of stars you call Virgo. Our research indicates that Santa is capable of terrestrial locomotion in speeds that allow him to reach every single home on your world in a single night. This is a technology well and beyond anything that we possess. You will hand over Santa to us; or we will probe you.
How utterly wretched of you. Cammy noted disapprovingly. I dont suppose that your research also indicated that Santa Claus is actually a creature of myth, and not real.
Yes Virg-aliens, is not Santa clause. Thibor added. Look, is having many qualified alien liaisons on planet, would be happy to speak with you on establishing diplomatic relationship with inhabitants of earth.
The alien pointed his device at Thibor and depressed the firing stud. A bolt of bright blue energy crashed into the throne. It missed Thibor, who had leapt straight up, taking on his werewolf aspect. He landed among the splinters and tore the long white beard from his elongated, wolfish chin. The alien looked decidedly put out that the old, fat, earth creature had suddenly become a slightly more dangerous looking old, fat, earth creature. It re-evaluated the fat portion as the werewolf barely sidestepped a second beam, his bulging belly exploding in a mass of charred feathers.
Naughty! Cammy pronounced. Her left leg kicked up almost to her ear, and she drove the heel down in a brutal axe kick onto the crown of the aliens head. Thibor had a momentary situational disconnect. For reasons unknown to him at the time, his minds eye held the image of John Belushi cavorting in a cafeteria and uttering the famous line Im a zit; get it?. The reason for this was entirely understandable; under the force of Cammys kick the aliens head exploded outward in an almost biblical deluge of green goo. It splashed all over Cammy and Naoko, and would have festively decorated his own fur, had he not jumped away. The alien; having been suddenly rendered headless, dropped its weapon and took three uncertain steps. The voice box crackled with static for a moment and then a pronouncement was made.
Now youve made me simply furious. A grayish bulb sprouted in the greenish stump of the aliens neck and then inflated until the creatures head was completely restored. It turned towards Cammy, stooping slightly to scoop up its weapon from the floor. As it oriented on her, Thibor stepped behind it and brought his palms together in an exaggerated clapping motion. The head exploded again, but in deference to his commanders sensibilities, Thibors huge hands carefully redirected the spray away from her. Naoko was not so fortunate as the wave of green goo coated her from bob cut to comfortable, sensible shoes. She wiped the worst of it from her large, round glasses and glared at Thibor and the alien. Thibor shrugged, while the alien shook violently. A new head poked free and quickly inflated.
Stop that! The voice box took on a petulant tone. My race cannot be truly harmed by such crude means.
Okay. Different crude means. Thibor seized the Alien by the throat and with quick, economical motions, ripped off both arms and both legs, ignoring the geysers of green ichors that sprayed haphazardly about the room. He dropped the alien onto the floor, and then raised a heavily booted foot and brought it down, smashing a crater in the creatures chest. He popped the head again for good measure too.
I mean it! Stop! I shall destroy your city! The alien thrashed as new limbs and a slightly put out looking head sprouted and inflated. It regained its feet and glared at Thibor with strange, black eyes. Thibor considered it for a moment. It was possible that the combined forces above were sufficient to level London. It was also unlikely, as an IST response Team would be on route and the combination of Meernarian ships and several irate heroes would likely put a very conclusive end to the inane invasion. The threat had to be minimal. Any alien race that showed up and tried to threaten Santa Claus with kidnapping was by definition, not advanced enough to take seriously as a threat. There were a series of pops as dozen more aliens materialized around them.
Is going to get ass kicked. Thibor growled and cracked his knuckles.
Cammy started to move to cover Thibors back, but was brought up short. For the briefest of seconds something had passed over the Aliens pupil less black eyes. It was fear. She glanced at Naoko, who had made the same connection. It was utterly logical, supremely simple, and completely and utterly revolting.
That is precisely what you are going to do major. Cammy smiled as she dropped into a fighting stance. I always wondered why these rotters had such a pronounced bottie-probing fetish. Somewhat less poetic than the weakness displayed by Achilles, but it will do.
You wouldnt The alien leader blanched, its gray skin taking on a sickly, ashen hue. Thibors huge, clawed hand reached down and plucked him off the ground, turned him around and tossed him lightly into the air. The huge werewolf scuttled backwards and then took two steps forward, his booted foot striking the aliens arse with pile driver force. The alien exploded in a truly torrential spray of green goo that covered every surface in the room with sticky green gunk. The voice box dropped to the ground with a wet splat.
A tactical retreat may be necessary. The voice box announced, the sound muffled by a thick layer of slime.
Cannon Spike! It was no unlike a game of billiards Cammy thought as she jumped off of one wall and drove herself at the aliens. It was just a matter of fixing the angle properly, so the path of her attack took her through the path of well least resistance was probably not the most accurate term for it; but is sounded far better than the alternative. She closed her eyes and mouth and thought about the good things. Royal weddings. Picnics in the forest. Feeding stray cats. Anything but threading oneself like a needle through the arses of invading aliens, causing them to explode violently into puddles of sticky, green goo.
Hi-Yah! Whoop! Naoko tried a kick but ended up going arse over tip as her shoes lost purchase in the green muck on the floor. Her gymnastics training came to her rescue as she turned the inadvertent pratfall into a flip. Perhaps the Russian judge would have been harsh, but the Germans, Italians and British would have applauded as she landed, on her feet and then proceeded to fall forwards, her forehead making excessive contact with a pair of alien buttocks, which, along with the alien to which they were attached, exploded violently.
Is Little Miss Yoshida using head for change. Thibor nodded approvingly as he decimated the aliens around him, ignoring the blue beams of energy that left smoking patches of burnt fur on his chest, back, and backside. Two aliens, in a display of intelligence, backed themselves against a wall. It was a sound strategy in theory, but the practice of such had never had to deal with the likes of Thibor. The werewolf thrust clawed hands through the aliens bellies, reached down and grabbed. The afore mentioned claws sinking into gray gluteus tissue until the aliens popped like gerbils in a microwave.
It was over in moments. The remaining aliens popped out of existence, transported back to their ships. All that was left behind was a Santas grotto, a knee deep puddle of green slime, two Christmas elves, also completely matted in green slime, and a dripping, seven foot tall werewolf.
That was disgusting. Naoko announced. She took off her glasses to wipe them, but could find no clean surface upon which to do so. She settled for redistributing the slime on them to offer her a clearer picture of the situation.
I heartily agree. Cammy agreed. She walked behind Thibor and grabbed his tail. While just a sodden as everything else in the room, it provided a surface to allow her to squeegee off the worst of the muck.
Were green! Simon called into the grotto. The aliens have signaled their surrender.
Is not easy being green. Thibor crouched slightly in preparation for an epic shake; he was brought up short by a sidelong glance from Cammy.
Its worse if youre gray. Simon winced as Naoko un-tucked his shirt and used the tail to fastidiously wipe her glasses. She considered for a moment and then used the remaining un-sodden cloth to wipe the clingy green slime from her face. After another moments consideration, she tucked his shirt back in.
Roight then. Colonel Byrd breezed in, gloriously ignoring the way that the green muck topped his boots. Good work the lot of you. Top drawer. Weve received word from the planet of the little gray buggers. Bit of a cock up, but they disavow all knowledge of this lot and wish to offer their thanks for apprehending em.
Well then. Cammy tried not to wince as Thibor saluted vigorously, the motion liberally splattering green muck across Colonel Byrds uniform. Sir, if there is nothing else for the moment, may we have leave to get cleaned up?
Fraid not ducks. Byrd smiled maliciously. Quarantine. Best be sure theres not something off with these buggers that could infect the ole planet. Weve got the area cordoned off, but itll be a bit.
Will we be out before Christmas? Naoko asked plaintively, visions of her non-refundable plane tickets dancing in her head.
Course ducks. Byrd smiled. Youll be out in plenty time for kringle, 2007.