The wonders of Communism. a story likely to have three parts
Posted: Tue Jun 28, 2011 4:10 am
I tried to write.
Let's hope it turned out well.
------------------------------------
Xequerin. Products, Mainly Industrial. Population, 3.2 Billion Human Colonials.
Communist.
In the dank cell, the alien next to me, a thin, Bony Lobstoid who went by the name “Louie”, pointed a chitin-ey pincer at another line in the Guide. Something about mountain Lobstoids. The half-meter rodent across from me, who did not look too out of place, reached instinctively for his battle prod, before he realized the electrical weapon was, in fact, in the hands of the State, and therefore not available for use on our be-pincered fellow inmate. He now officially lived up to his species’ title, that being “Harmless Rodent”.
The rodent screamed a Reidqatian curse and flopped down on his cot. He probably broke his nose. Poor thing.
Before I could think any further, the telescreen in the room shouted at us in an obviously fake Old-Earth Russian accent.
“Cursing is not permitted!”
Louie spoke up, thoughtfully.
“They all fake an accent. Maybe we can use that against them!”
The rodent, named Eustace-only pronounced differently(and inconsistantly)-, Hissed an angry little hiss, speaking to the lobstoid , his voice muffled by a cement pillow.
“I will enjoy watching you die, Shellfish.”
The pillow was, in all likelihood, literally composed of cement.
I had an idea.
I stood up and slid the pillow off the cot. Then, I stepped on Eustace’s tail, causing him to curse again.
The telescreen spoke in a cold, fake-Russian voice.
“Strike two. Comerade Carlos, commence rehabilitation.”
The hulking, baton-wielding guard entered the room, and I hit him with the pillow. I swear I heard a crack.
He didn’t really need his upper skull, did he?
“Wow, boss,” cut in Louie, “was that necessary?”
I ignored him, exiting the room and looking around.
Then I spoke in a slow, calm voice.
“If you ever suggest a sightseeing trip on any planet ever again, I'll... need to think of an adequate punishment."
We made our way out, and towards possible escape.
Let's hope it turned out well.
------------------------------------
Xequerin. Products, Mainly Industrial. Population, 3.2 Billion Human Colonials.
Communist.
In the dank cell, the alien next to me, a thin, Bony Lobstoid who went by the name “Louie”, pointed a chitin-ey pincer at another line in the Guide. Something about mountain Lobstoids. The half-meter rodent across from me, who did not look too out of place, reached instinctively for his battle prod, before he realized the electrical weapon was, in fact, in the hands of the State, and therefore not available for use on our be-pincered fellow inmate. He now officially lived up to his species’ title, that being “Harmless Rodent”.
The rodent screamed a Reidqatian curse and flopped down on his cot. He probably broke his nose. Poor thing.
Before I could think any further, the telescreen in the room shouted at us in an obviously fake Old-Earth Russian accent.
“Cursing is not permitted!”
Louie spoke up, thoughtfully.
“They all fake an accent. Maybe we can use that against them!”
The rodent, named Eustace-only pronounced differently(and inconsistantly)-, Hissed an angry little hiss, speaking to the lobstoid , his voice muffled by a cement pillow.
“I will enjoy watching you die, Shellfish.”
The pillow was, in all likelihood, literally composed of cement.
I had an idea.
I stood up and slid the pillow off the cot. Then, I stepped on Eustace’s tail, causing him to curse again.
The telescreen spoke in a cold, fake-Russian voice.
“Strike two. Comerade Carlos, commence rehabilitation.”
The hulking, baton-wielding guard entered the room, and I hit him with the pillow. I swear I heard a crack.
He didn’t really need his upper skull, did he?
“Wow, boss,” cut in Louie, “was that necessary?”
I ignored him, exiting the room and looking around.
Then I spoke in a slow, calm voice.
“If you ever suggest a sightseeing trip on any planet ever again, I'll... need to think of an adequate punishment."
We made our way out, and towards possible escape.
