Poseidon's Pimple
Strong thunderstorms continue to impact the eastern states. Find out
which areas may see damaging winds and hail this evening.

It was raining. It is always raining on Enceladus.

We showed up to MRC, some with enthusiasm and others with foreboding.
The base plan was to attend evening
festivities at Earth festival Figment in Boston System, but before our
proposed early launch we were informed that Figment was made of
sugar and had disappeared.

Fleet Admiral Skunk declared against, but those of us with too much
SCUL in our blood to quit decided that waiting wouldn't help, and
grimly prepared to patrol the constellations. At the last moment (as
is now customary) a heap of enthusiastic pilots showed up and we were
too soft-hearted to turn them away.

We launched in persistent midlevel radiation, in gear ranging from
full impermasuits to diaphanous, revealing t-shirts. Earth's radar
glowed solid
green. FAdm Skunk accompanied us, under duress and on a tiny ship,
while Wombat hauled Cloudbuster for the good of the groove.

Executing the original mission plan despite it having become
completely futile, we determined to buzz the site of the now-defunct
Figment. But as we crossed into Boston system a cataclysmic explosion
announced a near-fatal sidewall blowout. A needle and thread were
procured from unlikely orifices, and after many, many minutes of
valiant, unthimbled sewing by Vomit we were able to proceed.
Dermal radiation conditions ranged from damp to soaking, spaceworn
joints began to creak, and morale dropped with the temperature.

We arrived at one end of Figment. A few miserable natives crouched,
wetly, with their digging sticks under a skin canopy, surrounded by
totemic images of Earth wildlife. They seemed happy to see us; a
short pause later we decamped for the other end of Figment. There
the dome-dwelling natives seemed more advanced, and pilot Buckminister
joined us. Things were looking up: radiation had stealthily tailed
off and all were warmer and dryer.

Suddenly, geysers erupted. We had reached Enceladus! Random spurts
of subsurface fluid burst from the ground in clouds of hot mist, and
SCUL was irresistibly drawn to fly and dance among them. Oh, it was
good. The squirting! The rising! The falling! All were moved; most
were wet. Vomit, YT and Bane Thunderwolf gave themselves entirely to
the gushing liquid ecstasy. Tears of joy rolled down our cheeks, I
hardly know what ran down our thighs.

Sated, refreshed, mission accomplished, at peace with all the
radiation in the universe, we wound our way back to base.

Pilot Ship Points Promotion
BaneThunderwolf Skylab 446.411   Rear Admiral, Upper Half
beezwax Chastity 288.808   Senior Chief Petty Officer
bt Rhinoceros 296.185   Petty Officer 3rd Class
Buckminister Immaculate Taco 203.982   Lieutenant Commander
DrClaw Mad Rabbit 589.551  
Fleet Admiral Skunk Pestilence 472.23  
hackworth Roll Bounce 954.626  
Kpafun Civilianship 84.038   Lieutenant, Junior Grade
Leotard Trinity 778.079  
metoikos Mjollnir 711.29   Commodore
Stogie Wadlow 510.256  
vomit Famine 752.685  
Wombat Cloudbuster 362.828  
yt All Look Same 1114.11   Admiral
Mission Task Pilot
Airlock Leotard
Cleaner yt
ComSat Monkey vomit
Damage Control BaneThunderwolf
Deck Officer metoikos
Deck Officer Asst. metoikos
Filmer hackworth
Flat Bag DrClaw
Food Wrangler metoikos
Medi Bag bt
Minister of Zoobs DrClaw
Mission Leader hackworth
Mission Reporter Leotard
MRC Officer Fleet Admiral Skunk
Navigator DrClaw
RadioBox A Leotard
Sticker Bag Kpafun
Still Cam Stogie
Tailgunner yt
Tool Bag BaneThunderwolf
Wookiee Bag Leotard
Division: MAD
Date: 07/28/2012
Status: Success 
Origin: Fort Tyler
Destination: a figment of our imagination
Light Years: 15.449
G-Well Activity: 0.826
Technical Rating: 2.314