Episode Thirty-Three: Fanny Big-Bottom’s Pekinese Pants!

The following morning, the Captain awoke to find himself lying in the punchbowl back on the Party Deck. He thought that this was just about the best place for a Kung Fu Space Pirate Captain to find himself in the morning, because he would not have to travel far in order to get a delicious beverage first thing in the morning. But to the captain’s dismay, he discovered that his ultra-absorbent uniform had sucked the bowl dry. The captain wept copious tears at the loss of the remaining drops of Irishified Rico’s Suave-Aid, and shouted raging words of fury to the air as vengeance against those that had altered his fabric when it turned out that there was no spilled beverage on New Years Eve, and so the whole affair of trying to get save the universe came to absolutely no good – aside from the small victories of the Captain getting to enjoy 200 years worth of television, and the Secretary got a lovely four foot long beard.

The Captain slid out of the punch bowl and looked around the Party Deck. His back was aching something terrible on account of the fact that punch bowls are not very well designed from an ergonomic standpoint. Indeed, they have almost no upper lumbar support, and the hard plastic does not come close to the delicious comfort of a Super Mattress that was designed by NASA Engineers who dropped out of the space program to dedicate their lives to creating more comfortable varieties of foam. So the captain tried to do some stretches to make his back feel better – he rolled himself into a ball and rolled around the room, he grabbed one of the rafters and dangled down while rabid dogs pulled at his ankles, and he even ran himself over with a steam roller and then inflated himself back to a normal shape using helium. He had seen that last one in “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” and had always wondered if it would feel good for your back, because it seemed like it would really get rid of tenseness. But this day the captain discovered that actually it really, really hurts if you’re not a cartoon character.

One positive side effect of steam roller therapy, however, was that the helium made him float about the room like a party balloon, bouncing this way and that, hither and thither, up, up and away – all sorts of lovely phrases inferring movement of multiple directions. As the Captain was bouncing all around, he decided to fly up to the main deck and see if anyone knew anything about balloon art that could twist him around so that he looked like a duck. So the captain bounced around the corridors until he got to the deck, where the Secretary sat playing jacks with the Artificial Intelligence computer. The Secretary was winning by far, because the Artificial Intelligence Computer does not have arms. The captain floated in, and the Secretary looked at him in just the way you might expect someone would look at a Kung Fu Space Pirate Captain who has been transformed into a human balloon by being run over by a steam roller and then filled up with helium.

“Good morning.” said the Captain as he bobbled across the ceiling. “Do you by chance know how to mold me into a human balloon duck?”

The Secretary replied that no he did not have adequate knowledge in the field of human balloon sculpture, but that he did know of a clown living on board that might know. The Captain was always afraid of clowns, and so he was going to declare opposition to the idea that one should be brought on deck to practice his masterful balloon skills on him – but then the desire to be shaped like a duck overcame his fear of clowns, and so the clown was called to come to the deck immediately. Shortly afterwards, in came Bozo the Non-Famous Clown – similar to the famous Bozo the Clown, but not as famous. Bozo the Non-Famous Clown walked onto the deck, and then slipped on a banana peel, causing him to do a triple aerial somersault and land on his face in a giant cream pie. Then he stood up and washed off his face with a bottle of seltzer water. The Secretary cheered, but the Captain hid under his desk, on account of his being afraid of clowns.

When the Captain pulled himself together, he slid out from under his desk and once again floated to the ceiling. He then looked over Bozo the Non-Famous Clown, and noticed something unusual about him – rather than having a large red nose, he just had a normal person nose. “Hey Bozo – where is your nose?” asked the captain.

“It’s running in the Kentucky derby! And there’s a million to one chance that he’ll lose – unless you’re an evil birdie, in which case it’s definitely going to win.” The Captain thought about this and then realized the implication – he would most definitely have to fire his horse racing tipster, because his horse racing tipster is an evil birdie that must be getting all sorts of bad advice from people trying to stop the advancement of the Evil Birdie movement that’s becoming so prominent in the Southern galaxies. But that would have to come later, because right now there were more pressing issues.

“That’s just fine – but the important pressing issue right now is whether or not you can mold me in my human balloon state into the shape of a duck.” The Clown got a big frown on its face – which was achieved by completely re-doing his make-up – and said with a tear of comically exaggerated proportions in his eye that he could not, because the only thing he knows how to make is a poodle. This made the Captain scoff, because everyone knows how to make a poodle. As a matter of fact, there’s a little piece of trivia about the creation of the universe that says that when God was creating everything, out of all of the life forms on the planet, He first made a poodle, because they are so easy. And in fact he made so many poodles before he figured out how to make other things that for seven centuries, poodles ruled the Earth, and the only way God could take control of them was by making giant poodle-eating dinosaurs.

So the captain had to float around for a while in his normal captain shape, because he did not want to have anything to do with poodles, especially considering his traumatic experience with the poodle that turned out to be an evil transforming truck that was trying to take over the ship with its evil schemes. For a few hours, the captain just bounced along the ceiling, sometimes drifting near an air vent, which would suck him straight to it, and it would then take three to four crew members to pry him free. But as the day went on, and the helium started wearing off, the Captain gently floated to the ground, only to be bopped back up into the air by some crew members engaged in a game of ‘try to keep the Balloon Captain off the ground as long as possible by bopping him back into the air.’

The day went on like this until well after dark, and it was not until the crew was heading to bed that they finally allowed the captain to fall to the ground. But on his way down, something Significant Happened – rather than falling straight to the ground, he drifted around a ways and bumped one of the counters – knocking over a glass of Rico’s Suave-Aid. The liquid fell to the floor, and began streaming straight towards the Danger Zone in the computer. The Captain shrieked like a little girl whose pony turned out to be a mule and did a fast balloon dive towards the spill so he could soak it up before it reached the Danger Zone – but when he landed in it, nothing happened! While he was sleeping in the punch bowl, his uniform reached its Maximum Liquid Retaining Ability, and so it was completely useless to stop the beverage from entering the Danger Zone. The Captain watched in horror as the red liquid commenced to set the computer to ‘Wonky’ phase.

“Danger! Danger!” shouted the computer. “We are being invaded by Giant Pillars of Salt! Beginning Water Evacuation Phase Now!” and then the fire sprinklers started flowing, soaking the Wicked Witches of the West that still remained on the Party Deck, who cursed the ship with a spell to go straight into the twin suns of the Oberon Galaxy! The Secretary got worried at this point. He tried to override the system, but the Witch’s curse was too strong, and it appeared that nothing could prevent them from colliding with the suns, causing the destruction of the Universe.

“What’s happening? How could this have happened!” shouted the Captain. “I was so careful to prevent this from happening – we made it through New Years Eve! How can this be happening now?”

The answer came from a deep booming voice from the Sky – “Ha, ha, ha! You fools – yesterday wasn’t New Years Eve! Today is New Years Eve! You had your party one day too early! And what a giant social faux pas that was! Ha, ha, ha!”

“But who are you?” asked the Captain, trembling, hoping that it would be the Wizard of Oz, pleased that they had managed to get rid of so many wicked witches from the west.

“I am Muto Hodie – the leader of the Day-Cepticons!” The Captain and the Secretary shook in their Kung Fu Space Boots, while the Captain used his to repeatedly kick himself, grumbling angrily that he should have really taken care of these Day-Cepticons when he had the chance, and he would have if it hadn’t been for the Intergalactic House of Pancakes.

“Dangit,” said the Captain, “I always knew that IHOP would cause the end of the universe.”

The Day-Cepticon continued: “We day-cepticons have for remained satisfied with our role to make people think it is another day than it actually is. We add drama to the Universe as people forget to go to work, or forget important dates such as wedding anniversaries, birthdays, or days when there will be a really good show on TV that you want to set up a tape for. And we help the Universe’s economy by increasing profits of companies when we make people forget what day to send in the check for that month – and we get a mighty big kickback from the Credit Card Companies for that. But we have grown tired of these trifles – we demand power! And the way to do that was to show that we have power – by completely ruining your party plans by making you have the party a day early! Now what will you do tonight – sit around and watch Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rocking Eve? Alone? Ha, Ha, Ha! We got you good!”

The Captain shouted at Muto “but because of your changing the day, we weren’t prepared to stop the domino effect of bad stuff that’s going to cause the destruction of the Universe! As we speak, we are on a collision course straight for the twin suns of the Oberon Galaxy, which will create a massive black hole destroying everything in the universe!” This made the Day-Cepticon pause.

“Hmmm… that’s not a very helpful thing… I guess this falls into the category of ‘my bad.’” Said the Day-Cepticon. “I guess I should have really thought about the consequences of my actions before trying to wreck your New Years Eve plans. I’m sorry, Captain McGregor. I’ll go home and sit in the corner to think about what I’ve done – that should teach me my lesson.” And then the Day-Cepticon left to serve his time-out. Unfortunately, “I’m Sorry” doesn’t prevent the ship from running into the twin suns, however, so the Captain was still in quite the pickle.

And not only because of the whole ‘end of the universe’ thing, either, because just as the Day-Cepticon was leaving, in came with Most Evil Witch of them all – the Wicked Witch of the Midwest! And boy was she angry. “Captain McGregor – I travel all the way across the universe to come to your New Years Eve Bash, and not only do I find out that you had it a day early so that I would miss the festivities, but I also found out that you had melted all of my sisters! And now I’ll get you, my Captain, and now you must be destroyed! You and your wretched little dog!”

The Captain interrupted her – “but I don’t even have a little dog!” he exclaimed.

“Then what do you call that?” asked the witch and pointed behind the Captains back. The Captain turned to look, and sure enough, there stood the Evil Transforming Poodle Truck, in cute little dog mode. The Captain was shocked and amazed, because he was sure that the Poodle would have been long dead by now, and yet here he was – like an evil transforming Frankenweenie.

“Gimpy the Poodle!” shouted the captain. “I thought you were dead!” The Wicked Witch of the Midwest then shoved the captain to the ground and announced that if he wasn’t dead before that he certainly would be now, as she blasted it with green lightning bolts, because that is the preferred killing technique of wicked witches. The Dog transformed into a truck and attempted to run down the Wicked Witch, but her magic was too strong, and with a swift zap to one of the tires, the poodle got a hole in it and began leaking air. The tire deflated, but then, to everyone’s amazement, so did the rest of the truck. The truck completely deflated, revealing on the ground one Evil Transforming Poodle Truck shaped balloon. Everyone gasped in amazement, except for the Captain that realized what was going on here.

“He was a balloon! I should have known! Because it is completely illogical to think that a ROBOT transformer could go from a giant truck to a cute little poodle – and of course there is only one person on this ship that knows how to turn a balloon into a poodle, and that is…” the captain was about to announce the name when in walked Bozo the Non-Famous Clown and announced himself instead.

“Me! I was the one that crafted the poodle out of my balloons – it was my biggest accomplishment!” Shouted Bozo the Non-Famous Clown.

“But why?” asked Captain McGregor. “Why would you do such a thing?”

The Clown thought about this for a moment, and then responded thoughtfully: “It all goes back to my childhood, really. You see – we go way back, Captain McGregor. Back to the days when you were simply Greg McGregor… and I was simply Poopy-Face Johnson!” The captain wobbled on his ankles for a full five minutes because of this surprise twist of fate – he had not seen Poopy-Face Johnson since grade school – or so he had thought. “On the school yard, all of the children would mock me, simply because my name was “Poopy-Face.” I cannot describe to you the years of torment that name brought me – especially from you, Greg! You were the worst of them all! You had your sly jokes, cracking up all the other kids – it was great for you, because you got fame! You got glory! You got your own Kung Fu Space Pirate Ship! While I – what did I get? I got a bad grade on my SATs, and so the only college I could get into was Clown College! So I went, and I learned the art of being a clown – and in my spare time, I learned the science of being a homicidal maniac. After graduation, I put my two areas of knowledge together to become the foremost leader in the field of Evil Transforming Balloon Animals, and then I managed to get a place on your crew as official clown – and then I set my plan into motion. I befriended the Cook, Gimpy, who often complained of loneliness, so I offered him a companion – Gimpy the Evil Transforming Poodle Truck. And then I realized – hey! Here I am on my mortal enemy’s ship with an Evil Transforming Poodle Truck who is more than capable of taking over, and so I set my plan into motion – but you had to go and ruin my plan when you turned Gimpy the dog over to those rats. But what you don’t know about rats is that they love a good clown, and so all I had to do was go to their layer, throw a few pies around, and I got my dog back. I’ve just been biding my time since then, and now that the Universe is going to end, I shall get my vengeance on you once and for all!”

But then the Captain said “not quite! Because, you see, during all the talking, I had plenty of time to draw my sword and point it straight at you in what is the Intergalactic Symbol for ‘I win, nyeh nyeh.’” And it certainly was. Poopy-Face had no option but to give up, and so he admitted his defeat.

“All right – you win. You can kill me if you like… but not until you take a taste from my funny squirting flower!” and then Poopy-Face squirted water all over the captain, the secretary, and the Wicked Witch of the Midwest. Then he slammed a cream pie in the Captain’s face and ran off as quick as he could. The Captain was going to chase after him, but just then he heard the warning announcement: “Danger! Danger! The Ship will collide with the Twin Suns of the Oberon Galaxy in Two Minutes!”

The Captain tried to think of what he could do, and then he had the realization: if wicked witches put the curse on the ship, a wicked witch could take the curse off. He ran over to the Wicked Witch, who had begun to melt to the floor. “Wicked Witch of the Midwest – quick! You’ve got to take the curse off of the ship!” But rather than take the curse off, the Witch spat in the Captain’s face and pointed out that she was still rather peeved at the Captain for killing all of her sisters, and so she wasn’t going to do anything he said.

The Captain knew that he had to think fast, because he had only a minute and a half before the destruction of the Universe – and then he had a Brilliant Idea: he would win the Wicked Witch of the Midwest’s Heart with Poetry! “Oh, Wicked Witch of the Midwest – I did kill your sisters, it is true, but do not hate me for it, because I… have a poetic soul!” The Witch wasn’t buying it as readily as the Kung Fu Space Pirate Fan Club did. She spat in his face again, and said that she had read his poem about going into battle, and thought it stunk. This hurt the Captain deep it did, and he sat down and had a good cry about it, but only for two seconds because he was in a hurry, so he agreed that that poem was not his best, but that he had just written what he believed was the Greatest Poem in the History of the Universe even more than “When I Go Into Battle” was the greatest, and this new poem was called “The Universe,” and he informed her that it was all full of deep thoughts and ruminations on the nature of humanity. But the Witch just spat in his face again.

The Captain was getting desperate – he had less than a minute before the destruction of the Universe, and the Witch was almost completely melted, and she would not even listen to his wondrous poetry. Then the Captain had one last desperate Idea: “Well,” he said, “perhaps you don’t want to hear ‘The Universe.’ But mighty you be interested in hearing ‘Fanny Big-Bottom’s Pekinese Pants?’” The Witch was about to spit in his face, but then she stopped, because she realized that actually she would love nothing more than to hear the Epic Poem of Fanny Big-Bottom’s Pekinese Pants. The Captain pressed her, “this poem is so magnificent, I can’t tell it to you in the 30 seconds before the Universe is destroyed – you must take off this spell so that there will be ample time to enjoy its genius!” The witch then pondered this, and as the countdown to the End of the Universe hit the ten second mark, the Witch said a few words and sent a golden lightning bolt over to the Mainframe Computer, and the giant monitor showed the words “Wonky Phase Deactivated. Ship to now resume normal course. End of Universe has been averted. Whoop, whoop” and the ship zoomed away from the twin suns of the Oberon Galaxy, and everyone in the universe was saved, and everyone on the ship got a nice suntan from being so close to the sun like that.

Then the witch piped up from the floor, “now, what about that poem?” to which the captain replied that actually that poem was just the same poem as ‘The Universe,’ and this made the witch very mad. “Oooo, you’ll pay for tricking me like that!” she shouted, but unfortunately for her, she was by this time she was too melted to make anybody pay for anything, and so she just had to deal with disappointment.

There would be no disappointment for the Captain, however – he had saved the Universe from total destruction, and for that he was praised and praised as being the Greatest and Wisest and Best Kung Fu Space Pirate the Universe had ever seen, and he became so popular throughout the Universe that everyone tried to be like him, and in doing so, they fulfilled the Captain’s goal of making the Universe almost as awesome as he (but not quite). And in thanks for his excellent Prophecy skills, the Secretary was also rewarded, as he was officially re-titled the Secretary of Wicked Nasty Threats to the Max!!!, with three whole exclamation points. And then, just when the Captain thought things couldn’t get any better, he got a video call on the giant monitor, long distance from Hollywood, California.

“Captain McGregor!” shouted a smiley man with an expensive suit, “I am Chuck Peterson, president of the Intergalactic Film and Television Agency, and I am calling to let you know the status of your Made for TV Movie based on your life as a poor Lebanese girl. This may come as a shock to you, since you didn’t even know that your agent had submitted the script before his death, but we did receive it, and we financed it and produced it and distributed it world wide – and guess what? It became the highest-grossing motion picture in history, and it swept the Academy Awards, and won the Nobel Prize for Literature! And as we speak, a mail truck is on its way to your Kung Fu Space Pirate Ship with a check for infinity zillion dollars! Congratulations!” This made the Captain so happy that he leapt in the air and clicked his heels together so much that he unwittingly wrote the entire works of Shakespeare in Morse code. Then everyone on the ship applauded, as did everyone else in the entire Universe, as they looked at the Captain with even more awe and admiration than before, because he truly is a Wise and Wonderful Captain.

The End

(...until the Sequel)