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CHAPTER 19b - Still messing with Wally

At that moment, Amber came out of the ladies room.

This caused, due to:

A)     The unavoidable architectural effect upon bathroom allocation, (caused by the inherent desire for life-forms not to acknowledge their sexual opposite’s need for defecation), of separating the two rooms as oppositely as possible, so as to give the illusion that one is for bowel movements, and the other, simply for facial and clothing adjustment…

B)      Wally’s previously noted attraction to said sexual opposite…

C)      That same highly adaptable human genetic code…

D)      The smorgasbord-ish gamut of activities through which the human species carried itself, and the psychological effects it all had upon their DNA’s evolutionary statistics (that of being reinvented, reorganized, and recalibrated nearly constantly like some micromanaged engineer company)…

E)       Some external factors related to space travel, food preservatives, and his preferred brand of deodorant.

Wally’s DNA to decide on a course of action, once and for all. 

It would pick a plan, and stick with it. 

If it offended some minority, or quashed some parasite’s rights or irritated some bowels, that was just too damn bad.  Wally’s DNA decided once and for all, to grow a third eye in the middle of Wally’s forehead. 

That was it, the decision was made.  The expenses quantified.  The budget approved.  Even the manager’s signature was spelled correctly, and was in all the right places.

It was final. 

Not only, the DNA continued, would it construct an eye right smack in the middle, but it would also move the other two eyes farther apart.  That would give Wally the ability to worry about three different things, all at the same time; (Location, breeding, and self preservation in this case)

Wally’s DNA hit the proverbial ENTER button or, perhaps, signaled the proverbial ensen to a proverbial speed.  Or… well anyway, the process began.

Wally winced, a sharp pain erupting in his frontal lobe.  “Ow!” He said, failing to notice, nor appreciate the significance of the event.  “That’s all I need, a bloody headache, a terrorist, a woman I’m in love with, who’s in love WITH the terrorist, and not even being on my own bloody planet!”

“Love?” Came Amber, Fred, and Steve’s simultaneous (though tri-nounoly* targeted) question.

*Tri-noun-o-ly: For a group (of 3, in this case) to do the same action, with possibly similar intent, at the same time, but to different persons, places, or things.  Possible variants:  Bi-nounoly, Quad-nounoly etc.

Amber, was questioning Wally’s love for her, (both for timeline, and validity).
Fred, was questioning Amber’s love for him (as he’d been quite sure it had all just been for a laugh and roll in the explosive hay [and the sex that generally took place in said hay rolling])
Steve, was just questioning the concept altogether.

Interestingly, the factory default silent-10-second-self-destruct-activation code, was, on many ships, coincidentally, three people (one female), saying “Love” at the same time.  This was similar to those combination luggage locks whose combination is always 1-2-3 or 0-0-0.  Fortunately for our heroes, Brap had, like most intelligent captains, reprogrammed the ship’s computer to respond to HIS language, changed the default codes, and adjusted all the seat heights accordingly, before promptly having his ship stolen by our little band of vagabonds (the process and reasons of which, Wally was still intensely curious).

UNfortunately for anyone NOT being a member of Captain GROINK’s away team/inspection crew, Captain Groink had NOT reset ANYTHING aboard HIS ship (which caused one’s legs to fall asleep on the far too high chairs, among other things)

Captain Groink, Splatch, (and three expendable fellows in red shirts) materialized on Brap’s former bridge. 

One expendable fellow half-materialized inside a wooden (and as a result very out of place in the otherwise futuristic and metallic ship) desk, and another slipped on some oil, knocking himself unconscious.  The third tended to him, looking very nervously about as he did so.

Captain Groink strutted the way only a green pig with frightfully thin legs and a tendency to over-gesticulate can.  “Alright boys!  Fan out!  Show no mercy!  Give them no quarters*!  Leave no stone unturned!  Torture who you have to!  Stress your badness to all who question it!  Steal their toilet paper!  Go fourth and spread your seeds of terror!” Captain Groink groinked furiously, all but cart wheeling in his emphatic gesticulations.  He paused and looked at the view screen.  “Oh hey, we left our communications port open eh?” Captain Groink’s ship exploded on the screen.  “…eh?” He said, for once, failing to gesticulate.

*It should be noted that “Give them no quarter” is derived from an old saying of general lack of niceness and lack of mercy, whereas “Give them no quarters” would be something one might hear whilst working in an environment where people kept asking for them.  This greatly confused his only remaining minion, who, as luck would have it, wasn’t the evilest of evil henchmen, nor the brightest (which was really saying something when one considered that particular bell curve).  And, though he hadn’t planned on giving anyone change before, he now held onto it with a vicious frown upon his face to warn any who might attempt to part him with his coinage.  It should be further noted that “quarter” is a very common term for various forms of currency, in various galaxies; though what, exactly, they are a quarter of, varies considerably, and one should be very careful as a result.

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