Clean up this mess!

clean up this mess!, originally uploaded by geekgirlunveiled.

Sorry to report there are no Satellite Stories this weekend. As you can see, we are experiencing "technical" difficulties.

Can a Dalek change its Rivets? Part III

Little Red Ella escorted mini-Dal to meet the Ambassadors, Dor and Dora. Their pet Dragon was in the tearoom, and mini-Dal felt a bit nervous. He had heard that Dragons are sometimes capable of breathing fire and belching smoke. Being newly outfitted with mitts on his rayball and laser beam, he felt that in a fire-fight he might be slightly disadvantaged. 

He noticed, however, that Little Red Ella did not seem at all concerned, and that the Pet Dragon, who the Ambassadors referred to as Pee Shoe, was not even on a leash. 

Mini-Dal didn't think that Pee Shoe was a very encouraging name, especially for a house-pet that was so very large. He was also glad that he didn't wear shoes. 

DO YOU WEAR SHOES? he inquired.

"Why do you ask?"

PEEING ON SHOES IS INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR.

The Ambassadors giggled, which wasn't very ambassadorial, but certainly understandable.

"Dal, dear, Pi Xiu is his native name. He is imported."

IMPORTANT?

"Well, yes, that too."

WILL HE ROAST ME?

"Oh no, he's harmless!"

      "MOSTLY harmless."

"Yes, MOSTLY."

EXTERMINATE? mini-Dal whispered to himself. He was beginning to lose the urge to exterminate, but he still found the word comforting when he was nervous.

"Now," said Dora, or was it Dor? Mini-Dal hadn't yet figured out who was whom. They did look so very much alike, it was one more confusing thing about this place. They did seem pleasant though, and not at all threatening. He looked askance at Pee..., he corrected himself, Pi Xiu, who seemed content to stay where he was, smiling at them with all of his sharp, sharp teeth. 

"Now, I believe the first thing we must do is to call in Azi and Crow. Dal is going to need a little help with his conscience, and I'm afraid we're fresh out of crickets."

CRICKETS?

"Nevermind. One moment, they communicate on an open channel..."

Far away, where they had just finished up lunch at the Ritz, in Another Place, Crow stood still for a moment, receiving the latest transmission...

"Well, Azi, you had better put down your book, here's one that dear old Agnes Nutter never mentioned. It seems we're on conscience duty."

The Not So Demonic Crow, who smelled of old leather, cigars and fine, fine whiskey, had a car with a telephone in it. At one time, this was an astonishing fact, now it was a relic. But Crow was attached to it, in an unusual display of sentimentality he never knew he possessed. 

"Yes, old chap," Azi pretended to be English, and had a reputation for wearing light loafers, (although he never understood the idiom.) Neither was rumor was true. He was an Angel. "I received the same transmission. I believe the Ambassadors are having trouble with the language again. They mentioned something about a Robot."

       "Robot... that can't be right..."

Azi and Crow arrived on Poppet Satellite some few minutes later in Crow's vintage Bentley, (he was sentimental about the car too, naturally.) Crow was not very good at obeying traffic laws, and had been known to bend rules in the space-time continuum when he was in a hurry. 

They entered the Charm School meeting room together and were astonished to find that there was indeed a very tiny, very shiny robot waiting. The robot was wearing mitts, and standing meekly before the Ambassadors. That is, if robots are capable of being "meek." 

Dora addressed mini-Dal, "Mr. Azi and Mr. Crow are here to help you. They will be accompanying you in public until you have completed your first few lessons here. I trust you will get to know them, and I trust they will stay out of trouble themselves while here on the Satellite." She directed this last bit toward Azi and Crow, with a Very Stern Expression. Dor was doing his best to look Equally Imperious.

EXTERMINATE. I MEAN, VERY PLEASED TO MEET YOU. Said mini-Dal, who was feeling a bit nervous again. 

"So," began Crow, "I suppose we are here to instruct you in the ways of good and evil..." 

Azi looked uncomfortably at Crow.

"Well," amended Crow, "more like: Not So Bad, but Not Horribly Good Either." 

Dor and Dora simultaneously cleared their throats. Crow and Azi looked at the floor. Mini-Dal waved his rayball, which didn't do any good, being covered with a mitt. Instead he said very quietly: SUBMIT... PLEASE, which made him feel a little better, and seemed to be fairly polite at the same time.

The Ambassadors exchanged a worried glance. Crow, Azi and mini-Dal left for the Town Square, where they were sure to find some Socializing to practice. 

Dor peered anxiously after them. "Maybe we should have looked more diligently for a spare cricket," said Dor. 

"It's too late now," replied Dora, with more than a little trepidation.

Go to Part IV

Rattus Norvegicus

I just wanted to say how much I love these little guys! (well, the "ratbag" version.) Now, I'm not much of a rat person... at least I wasn't. 

When I was a teenager, my "boyfriend" (not much of a boyfriend, but kinda - loooong story explained partially in the first half of this post,) had a rat he named Babe. Babe was a darling little brown rat, with cunning little whiskers. She liked to ride on shoulders and she'd snuggle down in your hair or collar. 

Babe was very well cared-for, and soon grew to her full size at about 10" long (not including the tail,) and probably a full pound. At that point, she was Not So Cute. His siblings and I referred to her as "Babe the Sewer Rat." Since that time, I've been pretty much "not about the rats, thank you." 

Then I read Terry Pratchett's "Reaper Man," and met the Grim Squeaker, who is the Death of Rats. One day, shortly thereafter, I read a blog of Neil Gaiman's that pointed me to Lisa's blog and store. She had a Chester Jester in the store, and another rat, which I thought were kind of cute, but weren't really my cuppa. In poking around on her blog and Poppet Planet, I finally landed on the Ratbag page, where I saw... 

PLEASED TO MEET YOU,  he said, because of course, he's much smaller than Mort or DEATH HIMSELF. And I thought, "that's exactly what my home is missing, there's no Grim Squeaker living here. How could we have overlooked that tiny detail, when we have two pouncy cats in residence?" 

I wrote Lisa, and Grimmy became my first ratty little ratbag rat. 

Naturally, like Poppets, that opened the floodgates, or rather, it breached a tiny hole in the beaver dam. 

HA HA. GOOD ONE. BEAVERS, RATS, WE GET IT. VERY FUNNY.

Sorry. 

As I was saying... more rats. I love these guys! I'm certain there will be stories, and oh yes, there will be rats. Lots of rats. 

Naturally, (or perhaps I should say "raturally,") Easter Bun-, er... Ratty, wants to say hello on this fine, rainy and windy Easter afternoon. She hopes you have all the hollow chocolate bunnies you need for some lovely, and deeply satisfying ear biting. What is it her fluffy cousins say? Oh yes...

OM NOM NOM NOM.

(This is cross-posted to the Poppet Planet Forums.)

Can a Dalek change its Rivets? Part II

RattyD and mini-Dal paid a visit to the Poppet Satellite Brainy Council to ask Drs. Byrd and Brown, and councilors Spike Migraine and Sunrise to approve mini-Dal's application for residency.

Councilor Sunrise was a little concerned about mini-Dal's rayball.

"See? I told you that was a word!"
"shhhh! Don't interrupt the story!"



While RattyD offered assurances of mini-Dal's "niceness" and described several of the ways the lasers and plunger arm could be very useful to the Satellite community, the Robot Investigative Team quietly approached from behind, with information relevant to the inquiry.



"Oh dear," RattyD's smile dimmed a few watts, "mini-Dal, what is all of this?"
"exterminate"
"No, no, NO! We talked about all of that. These are not foes, these are friends!"
"The Dalek do not understand 'friend.' You must submit to the power of the Dalek!"
"Oh, good grief. Shush now."




Poppet Ambiguity stepped down from the Investigative Robot.

"I have reason to believe that this bird might have been deliberately wheeled over! Of, course, it might not have been..."

"It can't BE!" RattyD started, "Why, that's not civilized!"

Councilor Sunrise questioned mini-Dal, "what are we going to do with you?"



RattyD whispered to mini-Dal, "How could you do this to me, Dal-baby?! My reputation as Bad, Bad Rat, (but Not TOO Bad Rat,) is seriously hanging in the balance here!"
"Obey the Dalek!"
"Would you just quit all of that? There are no Time Lords here. We've been over and over this."
"SUBMIT!"
"sigh"



Meanwhile, the two Doctors and Councilors set about devising solutions to the recent incidents. Dr. R. Brown, with the competent assistance of Spike Migraine, had remarkable success with some brilliant restorative procedures. After straightening and folding, bird was nearly as good as freshly folded, with only the faintest of creases to show where the wheel tracks had been.



Dr. Byrd, being more the Creative sort of Doctor than the Healing sort, felt a "tough love" approach was needed. Nobody wanted to exile mini-Dal, the general consensus being that he could be rehabilitated, and taught some manners too, and his laser, plunger and rayball might indeed come in handy.

"We don't tolerate trash behavior around here Mr. mini. For the present time, you will be on probation, RattyD will supervise you, and you must visit the Embarrassed Ambassadors for a full course on manners and social etiquette.

In addition, we will ask you to keep your 'tools' wrapped up until you finish your classes. Little Red Ella Capitan, the head of our security around here, may pay you a surprise visit to see that your shields are in place."



"We hope these conditions are satisfactory. Let me be the first to welcome you to Poppet Satellite."

"See? I TOLD you he'd look ADORABLE in bows!"
"I wonder if that rayball could sear some tuna for our picnic tomorrow?"

Go to Part III

There's a Disturbance in the Continuum

Little Red's Posse, originally uploaded by geekgirlunveiled.

Little Red Ella and her Posse have just been informed that Others will be arriving soon from the Poppet Planet. There was some instinctive grouping into defense formations, but now that they know that "Others" doesn't mean "robots" this time, they've relaxed.

"Are you SURE it's not a bunch of new robots?"
         "Yes, they are soooo hard to train, what with the laser beams and disrupter rayballs."
"Rayballs? that's not a word."
         "IS SO, mini-Dal has a rayball."
"You just made that up."
         "Did not."

The caretaker of this particular Poppet Satellite just got the invoice and bill of lading from Poppet Planet, and is feeling slightly 'hungover' from the effort of arranging the expedition.

The caretaker would also like to apologize to readers whom she should have informed of the emigration efforts that were underway, but she's pretty sure all the readers saw the announcement over at Poppetropolis.

Little Red Ella's Posse is currently concerned that there is unfinished business with mini-Dal and the injured bird. They plan to wrap that business up before the new residents arrive. Little Red Ella is also looking at a possible re-org, with a small contingency of her crew taking up residency at the business operations office of the caretaker. Just to keep an eye on her, you know. Ella suspects that's how the robots are getting in.