Safepoint reached, and hostage taken at the ‘Big Womans Blouse Bar’ away from dawns prying eyes. Marble biospy-eyes’s dropped behind to survey the landscape, indicate they'd escaped the attentions of any unwelcome natives trailing them in the early morning mist.
“Who ya mama now urthboyz!” Dawg sponges his commando scuba suit dry, activates his rough terrain speedsuit with the shake of tiny leather strapped green buttock, and prepares for re-engagement of the urban Earth.
“Check Sonar, check!
Xray, Night, Ultraviolet and Infrared vision, check!
Flame thrower, check!
Heel Blasters, check!
Wrist CPU and Dash, check!
Frequency transmitter, check,
Distorter/pan/echo/flange and wah wah, check!
Tranproton specrifier, check!
Mind bender belt, check
External Port-a-potty recyclematic, check
Shields and Rays, intact
Visor and Goggles, intact
Chest straps, and Nipple clamps, intact
Underpants and Jockstrap, intact!
Zorg closely analyzes the bulbous purple veins protruding from his brothers eyes. He had considered the effects space madness may have on the mission, and decided it was necessary to refocus, and re-center his terrestrial chi. It was after all Dawgs first breaths of natural air produced by the diverse indigenous flora of a balanced biosystem, and was thick and heavy in his small fragile lungs. Always a shock to the system of those born and bred on liquid or compressed oxygen.
He instinctively squints his eyes against the powerful UV rays of the bright morning sun as it casts it’s warm glare across the exposed land, piercing his underdeveloped virgin retina with its needle sharp molten-tip javelin. Pretty heavy shit for a naked and exposed pink frontal lobe.
The body would require a proper rinseout* of the lungs, capillaries and aural cavities. Not a pleasant experience but a necessary one, and the only tried and trusted cosmic reiki that achieved near perfect 98.9% positive results. Thought was never again cast to the abysmal 1.1% of pathetic rejects.
Zorg places his elongated fingers and fluorescent glowing orange palms across his twin brother’s scull, scrunches his eyes closed in concentration, inhales deeply, farts, and…
***
* fookn avnit larjjje. innit?
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