Pilots assembled at the fort to begin preparation in less-than-somber
tones for the ritual Skunk Day. Raucous greetings and crab rangoons
were exchanged in the fort living room as pilots signed in.
Babymaggot PeteyWheatstraw and nugget turned maggot Visigoth were
appropriately tarred and feathered and run through other various
Headcrash led us through the star systems while Twitch brought up the
rear, and nostpicker managed to run off to relieve himself in almost
every alley we paused at. I hear this is a particular skill honed by
his experience at his post.
Our procession through the Cambridge system consisted of much
observance of the rites of chopper groove, an event which was a bit of
a preview for a disco rollerboogie. We managed to instill an urge for
butt wiggling among the earth humans we passed on the streets. Also,
many cups were ritually sacraficed, Moose sometimes doubling back or
challenging curbs and cars in order to really show those vessels
We managed to approach those spinny things again, and this time people
rode choppers around it. It's not surprising. It was only a matter
of time before pilots decided to involve their ships in this
puke-inducing maneuver. Actually, I believe puke was not induced, but
there was some mention of nausea. That's almost good enough, right?
Pilots then joined forces to scribe some amazing stories of the mad
libs tradition. Many potty words were used, and some pilots laughed
hard enough to cry in pain. Q gave us the best rendition of the 3
little pigs that I've ever heard. Nosepicker showed off his inability
to write. Everyone showed off their ability to verbize or adjectivate
words (see, i can do it too!).
On our way out there was a pretty interesting mechanical... Loki
Ducker tangled with Ivory Tower and the plasma casing cargo bay was
torn right off. The jolt of the ship collision wasn't too bad, but the
hissing noise of plasma being sucked out the cargo bay caused all
involved to realize something was very wrong. UglySac and Pywaket
managed to make things all better, and we surprisingly had the right
size tube even though the flat bag labelling didn't actually look like
we did. Who'd have thought?
While the mechanical was attended to, remaining pilots tried to create
more need for technical prowess by engaging in some super speedy
round-the-rotary derby. I don't know why pecan felt the need to chalk
the ground, but it was excellent watching her leap out of the way of
an oncoming ship.
We moved on, we grooved, we went some places, we got some food, fuel
was dumped, and everyone seemed pretty alright. The Fleet Admiral
seemed to approve as some of the pilots even read the mailing and had
a bit of an idea what the requirements were of the evening, huzzah!