Rude-A-Llama Ding Dong

[rudedogrob]

[ooc] I'm going to give this another shot. We had a great Rp phred going a while back and out of respect and courtesy, I'd like to ask that the people that post in here either be Llamas or at least part of the story as it unfolds. Please and Thank You[/ooc]

Captains Log; I'm really glad that I am regular in the mornings(?) I mean I really don't know wtf time it is out here in the blackness of space but I just woke up so its morning to ME. it was a nice restful sleep and it must have been a long one since my head isn't pounding too badly from the after dinner quart of whiskey I put down while playing 4D chess with the crew.

This is one of our longer runs so there is a lot of decompression coming up when we're through. I hate these long hauls since there is a lot more chance to be boarded by the Menses Outer Defense Sector clowns that think they have a clue what really goes on in the Alphaverse.

We're delivering a cargo hold full of supplies to Sapphos Prime legally and some black market toys and apparel for the Ladies who live there too. if we get found out in smuggling those things in, we might be cooling our heels in the slammer there for a long time to come.

Better check in with the Crew and see how things are going on the bridge and I HOPE no one has been messing with some of the more unsavory denizens of the many parsecs we're crossing to get from one end of the 'verse to the other.

[rudedogrob]

Isn't it just like the crew of the Al Pacca to be asleep when I'm awake? I guess that's why its been such a quiet ride for so long. At least I don't have to do the dishes now when I rustle some grub.

Wait, I mean Wrestle the Grubs that we took in as food after the crew watched that old 21st Century Bear Grihls guy eating grubworms. At least back then they weren't four feet long and weighed in at 300 pounds. The radioactive fallout from the morons back then have really changed the flora and fauna of a lot of worlds. Now the most effective Fly Swatter is a Surface to Air Missile System!

Come to think of it, its too Gawl Durned quiet around here. Its like when the voices in my head went away for that little bit. The silence was deafening. I can actually hear the Death Star drive that our old Gunny Deadpool wedged into the engine compartment rubbing a hole in the bulkheads. The Al Pacca might not look like much on the outside but the sucker can flat out motor through the vacuum faster than a strung out stripper on a Rail of coke.

[Avadon]

This place died long ago, really.

[rudedogrob]

As I'm padding around the ship in my kewl black boxers with the flame print on them I notice movement on one of the cams. Sure as She-ite, I spy a damn stow away. This isn't good for a smuggl~err cargo ship to have undocumented and more to the point NON paying passengers aboard.

I suppose if this butt dumpling doesn't have cash or some kind of skills to bring to the table, I'll pitch him out an airlock and wave as space sucks his eyeballs out and he pops like a gooey filled watermelon with an M-80 inside.

Just when I was enjoying doing a whole lot of nothing and now I have to actually do some work.

sigh

[rudedogrob]

So I'm thinking about the best way to trap a stowaway. I set out good bait. A couple of morlok sammiches with Mayo, Lettuce, tomato, and bacon on 'em and a nice cold bucket of grahuey brew sitting on a little table right next to the airlock.

I'll just curl up here in the catwalk with mine and wait. As soon as the hitch hiker sits down and starts chowing down, I'll go my Tarzan act and swing down on a cable and put both feet in his back so that he'll go booty over tin cups into the lock and I'll flush him with the garbage if I don't like the banter we have in the com afterward.

Now just like this log. Its a waiting game.

[rudedogrob]

Space; The Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the Space Scow Al Pacca. On a five yea ~err however long it takes to unload this crap and GTF off the next rock and onto the next mission to discover new worlds, meet new and interesting people and get fit shaced drunk enough to nearly go blind but not enough to slam into debris, a quasar, or a moon. Wait that's NO moon.

I awoke form my drunken stupor to the sounds of someone eating and drinking like they were reenacting the opening scene to "2001: A Space Odyssey" complete with wailing money men and jumping up and down. I leaped to my feet and grabbed what I thought was the rope I had rigged up for the Epic Swoosh through the air into my target. Unfortunately, in my hungover state I grabbed an extension cord that only stayed plugged in long enough for me to get launched mid flight and once I hit the apex of the swoosh it let go and I went sailing in what can only be called the grace of a ruptured duck with my arms and legs flapping wildly. At the last possible nanosecond, which seemed like a full minute to me, I went into full on survival mode and did exactly what many years of tactical training couldn't teach me to overcome.

I went into full on fetal position and tucked my head in so that I hit the floor like an over clocked bowling ball and crashed into the stowaway, table chair and about sixteen crates of CFM stripper stiletto heels, sending it all into the air lock. As soon as I stopped my twenty foot Keystone Kops routine, I was scrambling for the inside of the cargo bay before the poor *beep* knew what hit him.

I nearly shattered a wrist punching the airlock and with a "Swish, Click, FALOOMPH" All of the aforementioned crap I knocked in there was floating into the cold, quiet, completely forsaken throes of deep space.

Now where was I? Oh yeah time for another Captain's Log. See ya after I flush that too.

[Cair Paravel]

I thought I heard something go bump in the night. It was probably just another of those space rats triggering one of the traps (at least I hope that's what it was). Think I'll just roll over and go back to sleep. Someone else can empty it. After all, I need my beauty sleep and those rats are NOT my favorite thing to dispose of.

[rudedogrob]

Bump In th enight?

It was more like "YAAAAAH" Slam, crash, poomph, KRACK, Boom, Ting ting ting wadda wadda wadda CLICK FLOOOOSH!! but ever since we soundproofed all of the quarters after the New Year celebration on Bohemia 5, I understand no one waking up. Of course the Bio life systems might still be getting some of that nitrous vapor leaking into it from the Death Star Drive too.

Well what the hey. time for a drink

[rudedogrob]

Never too dull a moment on the Al Pacca, Ever Faithful Readers.

As I was just settling in for a nice dog of the hair that bit me and made me think that John Philip Sousa was leading a marching back and forth inside my head, the comms go off like we were in the path of a speeding bullet train. Naturally, I ignored it as long as I could until I had a nice pitcher of Grahuey Kamikazes made and sauntered up to the bridge. Funny name for it, Bridge since most of the time I feel like taking a sailor dive onto a concrete surface after I've been up here a while.

Anywho, Some clown in a part suit of armor and part of all I can describe as a King Arthur Underoos negligee is screaming that I have no business traversing through this sector and he is stomping his big fluffy bunny slippers the whole time. I just HAD to hit record so that as soon as anyone from the crew awakens and checks status this will brighten their morning, afternoon, or night. I mean who can tell in the darkness of space. Or in the case of this bummaggot the DORKness of space.

In my best faked automaton voice I tell him that this is an unmanned craft and these aren't the droids he's looking for. Then all hell breaks loose and I hear about nine of this guys alarms going off and the chatter from all of them laughing at him drown out everything else. I do what any good unmanned craft would do and go back to drinking the shi ite of booze on my way back to the rec room.

[Jarhead]

Rest in Peace rude.

[Cair Paravel]

News bulletin:

Debris was found orbiting XK-9. According to the ship's recorded log, which was found intact, the ship was the Al Pacca, captained by the intrepid rudedogrob. It appears that all hands were able to abandon ship except the captain, who went "down" with his ship.