Peter the Ace, Panman, and Professor AmpléBläckett Hàgênmåclídensõn
were hanging by their arms two metres above the floor of the detention cell
in Mister Blister’s personal chamber.
“This is quite relaxing.” Peter the Ace said. He pulled on the
shackles round his wrists and began to swing gently.
Panman did the same. “Hey, your right!”
The two bounty hunters swung to-and-fro in perfect unison.
The professor was not amused. “How can you act so childishly in this
situation?! We should be demanding to speak to those in charge!”
“Lighten up, professor.” Panman said, deepening his swing. “That
Mister Blister dude will come and speak to us soon enough.”
“How in Dímpléhåhftên’s name can you
be sure of that?”
“Because we wouldn’t have been hung up in the detention cell
of his chambers otherwise.”
Peter the Ace nodded. “Doctor Charlatan is right.”
Professor AmpléBläckett Hàgênmåclídensõn
grunted, and then winced with pain.
“Are you OK, professor?” Peter the Ace asked.
“Of course not!” he shouted. “Look at my wrists!”
The two bounty hunters looked. The professor’s wrists were bleeding
“My iron cuffs are much too tight!”
“They’re no tighter than ours!” Panman said truthfully.
“You’re just too heavy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re a blimp! You weigh at least twice what you should. The
skin around your wrists is much to weak to support you, therefore its split
- hence the blood. Your decadent academic lifestyle of rich fattening food
and gallons of port before bed has turned you into a weak and overblown
The professor was fuming.
Peter the Ace nodded solemnly. “I have to agree with my learned colleague.”
“How dare you speak to me like that?”
“We just tell it like it is.” Panman said. “If you can’t
handle the truth then my respect for you and your scholastic achievements
The professor spoke sternly. “Obesity is necessary within my profession,
and rightly so. A professor without excessive body mass is a professor without
intelligence and perception. Without a weighty midsection to prevent him
taking up sports or indulging in other healthy distractions, a professor
would become un-focused and lose the ability to endlessly lecture on vague
and meaningless subjects. The fact that you both seem lean and muscular,
without any signs of an overhanging gut, makes me think that you are not
quite the intellectual equals I once thought.”
“I think the fact that we solved in a minute that problem you had
with Perpalian’s levitation thingy means that we’re actually
your intellectual superiors.” Peter the Ace said.
The professor scowled. “I’m beginning to think that was a lucky
Just as Panman was about to put the professor in his place and make another
reference to his elephantine belly, the executive, Chester Bolus, appeared
at the thick iron bars at the front of the detention cell. He eyed the three
academics before speaking.
“His lordship, Mister Blister, is on his way up here.”
“It’s about time!” Professor AmpléBläckett
The executive continued. “He wishes to speak with you, and then torture
The professor went pale. “Torture?”
“Because he wishes it.”
The professor was angry again. “Unbelievable! This whole business
is totally unacceptable! Just you wait until my faculty hears about this!”
Executive Chester Bolus walked away. “Prepare yourselves for pain.”
He said. He left the chambers via a small side exit.
The professor was frantic. “We can’t allow this!”
Peter the Ace agreed. “Indeed we can’t.” He looked up
at the ceiling several metres above. Right next to the place where their
chains were fastened he spotted something. “Do you see that?”
“Panman nodded vigourously. “Of course! Exactly where I would
expect to find it!”
The professor looked up, confused.
Lawrence chuckled inanely to himself as he hauled the carcass of Mister
Blister along a wide, dank passageway that lead away from the bridge.
Just thinking how deviously brilliant he had become made him giggle with
glee. Apart from the incident with the tank, his ship was a phenomenal
success, and the capture of a passenger vessel with three academics on
board was the icing on the cake. And to top it all, he’d just watched
the bloody slaughter of most of the passengers on the main view-screen.
What a glorious sight, and it was still continuing. Lawrence was recording
the rest of it for his later pleasure.
Now, he must speak to his academic captives and give them something painful
to think about. Because of their importance, a rescue party of bounty
hunters would already be on its way - exactly as he wished. With his new
vessel of devastation and doom, he’d capture them, get the location
of the Palace of Amino, and then wipe them all out like kittens in a microwave.
Lawrence rounded a corner and entered a large open space. A four metre
wide bridged pond right at its centre bubbled frenetically. In the water,
several reptilian beasts snapped their toothy jaws together. With a Jabba-like
motion, Lawrence heaved Mister Blister over the bridge taking time to
wave gaily at his cold-bloodied friends. At the other side, the evil lord
of calamity wandered into an open elevator car. “Take me to my personal
The female computer-collective responded. “AS YOU WISH.”
The doors closed. The elevator car shuddered then whined as it accelerated
towards the ship’s upper section. Lawrence held on to the hand rails
as the car was thrown around the contorted elevator channels - purposefully
designed to induce nausea in all but the most nefarious of beings.
The elevator car decelerated rapidly and drew to a halt.
“YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT YOUR PERSONAL CHAMBERS.”
The elevator’s doors scraped open.
Lawrence stepped out. Two cloaked guards at the entrance to his chambers
bowed deeply then opened the two gothic black-iron doors. Lawrence smiled
as he walked in. His new chambers were freakish to the extreme! A colossal
circular bed at the centre was surrounded by several small canals filled
with lizards and sharks and various untamed denizens of the deep. Lawrence
passed them by and wandered into the second and smaller chamber. Six green-marble
columns stretched to the high ceiling where thorny vines twisted around
them. Tiny bat-like creatures fluttered through the leaves.
Lawrence walked into a small passageway at the far end and turned to face
the thick bars of his personal detention cell. He opened his mouth and
prepared to give the foreboding speech that he’d been preparing
carefully for the last ten minutes. Something important stopped him from
speaking. The detention cell was empty.
Lawrence closed his eyes then opened them. Still empty. Three sets of
broken shackles were swinging gently. He looked up. Up on the ceiling,
the ventilation duct cover was hanging open and it was heavily dented.
The demonic lord of foul dirt cracked. “Bastard edible beetle-butt
featured floppy ventricles!” He slammed his fist on a nearby communications
panel. “They have escaped!!”
“Who has, my lord?” executive Chester Bolus said timidly.
Lawrence punched the wall. “Who in Santa’s name do you think?!”
“But I spoke to them only minutes ago, my lord. They were securely
“Imbecile! Find them now or you’ll eat your own throat with
“Yes, my lord.”
Lawrence snarled, then ran Mister Blister’s carcass as fast as he
could across his personal chambers. Leaping onto the giant bed, he thrashed
around like a grounded fish. He began to shout some of the loudest and
most loathsome profanities every heard.
Panman crawled quickly along the dimly lit ventilation shaft and laughed.
He turned to look at Peter the Ace and Professor AmpléBläckett
Hàgênmåclídensõn. “This is so funny!”
The professor panted like a water buffalo. “I fail to perceive the
Peter the Ace explained. “I think Doctor Charlatan is referring
to our escape route. Evil criminal masterminds always seem to design mammoth
star ships brimming with weapons of mass destruction on the outside, while
paying little attention to security on the inside. This shaft is a case
in point. We can probably travel to any part of the ship through this
ventilation system while encountering minimal resistance.”
“What can you two possibly know about evil criminal masterminds
and mammoth starships?” The professor asked. “You are both
academics like me, sheltered from the depraved underworld.”
“True.” Panman said, lying through his toughened battle teeth.
“But we study bad guy mentality in our spare time.”
Professor AmpléBläckett Hàgênmåclídensõn
shook his head, but said no more.
Up ahead, the shaft divided into four - one headed straight down. Panman
keenly examined each direction.
“What do you think?” Peter the Ace asked.
“They all look the same,” Panman replied, “so I pick
down. It’s less effort.”
Peter the Ace nodded. “I agree.” He turned to the professor.
“We’re going down.”
The professor grunted. “So I gathered!”
Panman was first to go. He launched himself into the vertical shaft and
dropped like a stone. Within a second, he’d disappeared from sight.
Peter the Ace backed himself against the wall. “Off you go, professor.”
Professor AmpléBläckett Hàgênmåclídensõn
crawled by the bounty hunter and peered down the shaft. “No. I don’t
think so.” He started to back up.
With a powerful contraction of his mighty servo-assisted digitally optimised
quadriceps, Peter the Ace booted the professor hard on the backside. The
professor shot forwards and tumbled into the mouth of the shaft. His gargling
scream faded quickly.
Peter the Ace waited a few seconds for the overblown professor to gain
some distance, then he too dropped into the shaft.
Lawrence ceased his bout of senseless thrashing on the bed and head-butted
a communications panel on the headboard. “Update!”
The voice of one of the executives crackled over the comms system. “We
have not located the academics, my lord.”
“Moron!” Lawrence snarled. He started to squeak. “Do
you desire to eat your own face?!”
“No, my lord.”
“Then give me some good news!”
There was a delay in response as the executive thought of something good
to say. “Almost all of the other passengers have been brutally dismembered.”
“Yes!” Lawrence screamed. “Ha harr!” He paused.
“Um… Yes, my lord. Two of them seem to have fought back quite
Lawrence could not believe what he was hearing. “Fought well? Against
my Unholy Army of the Night?! You lie like a beagle!”
“I’m afraid it’s true, my lord, but actually, only one
of them is doing any fighting. She has killed more than twenty of…”
“She!” the dark leader of despair shrieked. “A female!”
“Indeed, my lord.”
Lawrence was wild with fury. “There are over a hundred members in
each legion! How can she single-handedly fend them all off?!”
“Most of the legion have settled down to eat the remains of the
slaughtered passengers. Only a handful is trying to slash her but she
wards them off with ease, and she is managing to protect her male companion
“Show me! Display the catacomb on my chamber’s view-screen!”
The giant view-screen opposite the chamber’s massive bed flickered
to life. An image of the dank catacomb appeared. Mounds of butchered bodies
covered the floor, each one surrounded by several members of the Unholy
Army of the Night. They were munching steadily on arms and legs and organs.
Next to the wall was a particularly large mound of bodies and on top of
the mound stood two people. The male of the two was cowering feebly. The
female was involved in a frenzy of punches and kicks. Three of the unholy
army were trying to get up to her but to no avail. They were smacked in
the face at every attempt.
Lawrence was delirious with annoyance. “Who is she?”
The executive spoke. “I found her details in the passenger manifest.”
A picture appeared at the left of the view-screen. “She is called
“What an asinine name!”
“It is, my lord. What is interesting is that she is a companion
of Professor Rottingliver and Doctor Charlatan.”
Lawrence’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“This is indeed interesting.” Lawrence said, entering a thoughtful
mood. “The doctor and the professor escape from my detention cell
and she survives the onslaught of a legion of my Unholy Army of the Night.
Is this just a coincidence, or is there more to it?”
“I don’t know, my lord.”
Lawrence screamed. “I wasn’t asking you!”
“Sorry, my lord.”
Lawrence took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “Bring her before
“Yes, my lord. What about her companion?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The communications channel closed.
Sind’a Thighs kicked hard. Her attacker’s face gave way and
caved in, leaking rancid brain matter and electronic implants. It staggered
for a while, and then fell backwards. “Can you reach the duct yet?”
she asked. Another attacker was climbing up towards her brandishing a
rusty carving knife.
Her male companion, Digby, shook his head. “It’s still too
“Use more bodies!”
He nodded and began to pull another of the dead passengers up to the
top of the mound. Awkwardly, he positioned the broken body against the
wall, and then clambered up it. He reached up, his fingers just managing
to hook over the lower rim of the duct. “I’ve got it!”
“Then climb in!” Sind’a Thighs yelled. She leapt into
the air, back-flipped, and then planted both her feet onto her rancid
attacker’s chest. The speed of the impact was tremendous and the
zombie was thrown back ten metres. It slammed into the metal wall of the
catacomb then collapsed limply to the floor. It remained on its back for
a few seconds, groaned, and then started to get back on its feet. Sind’a
Thighs noticed that three more undead warriors were approaching. “Hurry!”
Digby was hanging from the duct and whimpering. He just didn’t
have the strength to pull himself up.
Sind’a Thighs leapt up to the top of the mound, grabbed his feet,
and then crouched down. With formidable power, she contracted her thighs
and pushed up. Digby shot up into the duct. There was a resounding clang
as his head slammed into its ceiling.
Several members of the grisly army had gathered at the foot of the mound
of bodies and were beginning to scramble up. Now was the time to leave,
Sind’a Thighs thought. With the grace of a swan, she leapt into
the air, somersaulted, then, amazingly, landed in a crouched position
in the entrance of the duct. She turned and looked down into the catacomb.
The undead warriors were still trying to climb the mound, and some of
them had stopped halfway up to have a nibble on some ribs and vertebrae.
There was no way they were ever getting up into the duct. Sind’a
Thighs rubbed her bloodied thighs and smiled. Her powerful quadriceps
had saved her. All those intense squatting sessions in the gym had paid
off, and this astonishing example of her leg’s power proved that
her new bounty hunter name was the perfect choice.
She looked down the ventilation duct and noticed Digby sitting against
the wall, his cloths in tatters. He was breathing heavily - obviously
very unfit. Sind’a Thighs suddenly realised that she too was breathing
heavily. It was very strange; the exertion of the battle was nothing for
someone of her near perfect fitness level. Why would she be panting like
Then it came to her. Quickly, she got to her feet, avoiding slamming
her head on the hard iron ceiling by millimetres. She walked over to Digby
and stood before him. Only one thing filled her mind. “This savage
incident has aroused me to previously unknown levels. I must be satisfied!”
Digby stared up at her. “What do you mean?” he asked, rubbing
his bleeding head.
Sind’a Thighs unzipped her top and threw it to the floor revealing
a modest but toned pair of breasts. Then she undid her mini-skirt. It
dropped. She wore nothing underneath.
Digby stared at her sweaty naked body with intense pleasure.
Sind’a Thighs decided to reveal more than just her body. “I
am a trainee bounty hunter from the Palace of Amino.” she said,
kneeling before him. She began to tear off his clothes. “I demand
that you satisfy me now!”
On hearing the momentous news, Digby looked away in shame. “I desperately
want to, but I am not worthy.” he said pathetically. He shook like
a leaf. “No ordinary being can ever lay a bounty hunter!”
“You’re right, you are not worthy.” she said, ripping
his pants open. “But you are the only living male available right
now, and that will have to do.”
Sind’a Thigh’s covered Digby’s mouth with her hand,
pushed him back, and then mounted him. The finest moment of his meaningless
life had begun.