Zarkan, The Destroyer,
Overlord of the Drund fleet, peered at the pearly blue planet on his screen— so
helpless, so vulnerable, so ripe for the taking. He curled his mouth organ into
the alien equivalent of a sneer and turned to Admiral Zvsb, equivalently
sneering beside him. “They are ripe for the taking, are they not?”
He struck a gallant pose, or rather the Drund equivalent of a gallant pose and
wrapped an appendage around one of Zvsb’s necks. For this was indeed an
historic occasion. The taking of his 100th world. Few if any Overlords had
attained such glory. The on board cameras were rolling and Zarkan’s words would
be heard by Drund masses everywhere. He had ordered his secretary to
prepare a few words in praise of the great Drund race, their all-conquering
military and their inevitable dominance over the galaxy. About to begin his
brief address, he raised an appendage in the air and... sneezed, or the alien
equivalent of one.
“Gavoort’cha! Gavoort’cha!” was what he said. He was forced to take out the
alien equivalent of his handkerchief and wipe his running voort.
“May Glan keep you, Overlord,” mumbled Admiral Zvsb and several other officers
on the bridge. It was a humiliating moment for Zarkan. The entire empire was
watching. A running voort was a sign of weakness. He composed himself and began
“Gavoort’cha!” He couldn’t control himself.
“May Glan keep you, Overlord,” said the Admiral and then he too sneezed
violently several times. The lower ranking officers wished him well but Zarkan,
as befitting his station, said nothing. One did not wish health to lower
“My pardons, Overlord,” said Admiral Zvsb. “My eye stalks have been itching all
day. Perhaps it has something to do with the samples we took from this world.”
“Bah, impossible,” said Zarkan, “Did we not sterilize everything according to
“Yes your greatness, but
“Gavoort’cha! Gavoort’cha!” Several officers on the bridge joined the sneezing
Admiral. This was bad, very bad. What if the Supreme Overlord was watching?
What would he think? Zabnor was not called The Merciless for nothing. A few
more sneezes and he might recall the ship and the entire crew might get to
experience the alien equivalent of humiliation, torture and death.
“Let us at least complete our mission,” exclaimed the overwrought Overlord
after another fit of sneezing left him dizzy and panting. One tentacled hand
hovered over the button that would render the planet below a smoking cinder. As
a result of tear filled eye stalks and yet another bout of sneezing, the wrong
button was pushed. Amounting to the alien equivalent of a colossal fuck up. The
exploding ship flashed like a star for an instant then winked out unnoticed by
anyone on the ground, many of whom slept the drugged sleep of the chronic hay
2012-04-16 14:33:54 Neil Fulwood - I now have a mission: drop “Gavoort’cha!” into the conversation at work tomorrow. Great story - really funny! 2012-04-16 07:47:19 micheledutcher - You have no idea how I can symphatize with the main characters. The allergy pollens in the Ohio River Valley are extreme this year. Very funny, and may Glan keep you.