Monday, June 30, 2008

Challenge #7

The challenge has been cast. The gauntlet thrown down. Many have been called, few have answered. On the planet Hacknor... On Fire Island D, brave contestants will compete. Who will falter? Who will thrive? Who will be





OK gather around Gladiators, First off, I want you to notice on my right your left that the teams have been merged. Congratulations all on getting this far.

Now, I know some of you recognize the room you’re in.

You’re thinking, Gee, isn’t this the room where our genders were changed on us right beneath our noses and/or other body parts? or Gosh, Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, I’m pretty sure that this is the room that the contestants were in last year when their minds were switched around into other bodies.


Well you’re right and you’re wrong. Here, let me demonstrate by throwing this switch here. See? Your genders weren’t reversed and your minds weren’t thrown into someone else’s body, you were just transformed into a younger version of yourself is all.

Of course, it’s not an exact science, I’m not sure how young you all became, it’s somewhere between 4 years old and 13, you know between cute and obnoxious.

Your challenge is to live in this form for a week and report on your adventures. Let us know what happened and all. Don’t worry, the effects of this transformation really only last a week.

Give or take a few days…

Like I said, it’s not and exact science.




Last Gladiator Standing III is brought to you by


Spider-Man XVI, now in theaters.

Challenge #6, the vote

The challenge has been cast. The gauntlet thrown down. Many have been called, few have answered. On the planet Hacknor... On Fire Island D, brave contestants will compete. Who will falter? Who will thrive? Who will be




Well Gladiators, who in the baseball game of love just struck out?






Who instead of finding true love on the Love Boat Leviathan found a great big handful of jack squat?





Who thought the phrase "Love is a battlefield" meant that you must include mustard gas?




Who's stranded all alone in the gas station of love
And has to use the self-service pumps?







Nepharia, you are not the Last Gladiator Standing, goodbye.




Stay tuned for the next challenge.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you today by Keeping Up With the Kardassians.


Keeping Up with the Kardassians now exclusively on the Intergalactic Gladiating Network.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Judgement , this time...

Ladies and Gents,

I am sorry to say for me this was the worst round yet. I quite don't get what most of you were going for. You shouldn't try and do a Gyrobo post,you can't beat his. Majority of your post were blah.

Erifia Apoc; Did you even try to think about your challenge? I expect much better from you. For shame.

Professor X; With your powers, this round should of been in the bag for you. A couple of mind wipes and bam. You wasted this chance to be petty, and I like petty. However, you couldn't man up. Just like when I took your girlfriend. What did you do...Nothing, you didn't take a stand.

Sylar; Bald Brittany Spears called, she wants her shtick back. Remember you are given guildlines. Use them to help your post. At times you were funny.

Kon-El; Congrats, you followed the rules. That was good, however, you seem to lose steam in the middle. Take a step back every now and again.

Mr. Bennet; You did the almost the right mixture of wacky to guidelines ratio. You got a little lost there. Focus and this thing is yours to lose.

Nepharia; Are you sure you aren't the one who went overboard...If you are going to bully people( which I don't mind), make it funny.

West; This maybe be your best post yet. You went a little manic with Wil Wheaton, but I dug it. Next time, make your post a bit tighter.


The winner of this sad sad round is....

...

...

...




West.

Send your votes to Jon, folks.

Dental for all.

Dr.Polaris rules.

Friday, June 27, 2008

World of Erifiacraft (Erifia)

This is a cake walk… Without a doubt, the easiest challenge ever. I have to do what I moonlight for as my cover for the Temple. I have to entertain… I am a dancer, that’s absolutely what I am best with. I am poetry in motion and I can hypnotize any men I’d like with my lekkus…

But I’ve used all my dances up… Not that there is a limit, its just that’s watching the same thing over and over again. That’s tired, that’s old…

What if I did stand up comedy?

I might insult the professor who can’t sit down.

What if I killed sith from a remote location?

I might upset that stupid ugly Nepharia, and last time I did something like that she sicked a womp-rat on me.

What if I juggled kryptonite?

I might get kryptonite poisoning like Luther, and upset the kin of Superman.

So… What should I do? I don’t have anymore dances… I can’t do any of my other things that I could do…

I sighed, and went to the docking bay of the big living ship thing… Whatever it was called, like it’s important… Levitation… Lesmagorian… Liverpuller… Who knows? My ship was there and I got on it… Becca the Magnificant and Tatooine were playing some sort of game, it involved a ball on a string, and a wooden cup, they were both trying to get it in, “What can I do to be entertaining?” Becca looked at me, Tatooine looked at me, and they both broke out into a loud guffaw… I sighed. I was going to lose… It was a long run…

I went to my bedroom, and there was the glow of a computer screen, and a man in front of it with an afro the size of big child’s ball. He turned to me and hissed loudly. It was the author…

Look at that fro.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him with a pointed glare.

“Shutup, I’m busy…”

“What are you doing?” I walked up, and he hid the screen from me.

“None of your business,” he said shortly, and then held a button down, “Okay… What do you think our chances of survival are?”
The computer spoke back but it was someone else’s voice, “33.35%”

“Are you watching some sort of interactive porn?”

“No! It’s a game, stop it!”

“What kind of game…”

“Shutup!” He held a button, “Hold on guys, some stupid twi’lek is bothering me… Don’t pull yet.”
“Sure thing. Is that the one from your blog? Tell her she’s hot.”
“You’re hot,” he said to me.

“So now I’m a stupid twilek, I need your help…”

“I can’t right now, I’m playing a game...” He said moving so I could see… He was playing some sort of online fantasy game, and the character he was using looked like me except with fangs, hair and a wicked looking set of armor.

See the resemblance?

“OK, guys let’s finish this boss,” he said, “I hope that epic loot drops, I need that tier 4 token real bad, my crown is working, but only so much… Then I’m heading over to WSG and AV, where I hope we can cap up, not like last time when they took forever, and I got flagbearer sickness, and Vann has been taunting me forever… After that, the Midsummer Festival is on, I need Exodar, Darnassus, and SW, I got IF last night. Then perhaps you want to drop Ahune? I want that NCP, nothing beats a mini-FE, you know?”
“Yeah man, I hear ya!”
“I’m in for AV if you help me get my marks.”
“Cool, Ahune? I’ll meet you in CF-SP after you finish up.”
“Right on,” said the author, then he hit some buttons and sith lightning came from his hands, and soon he finished, hit a button or two, and then he turned to me, I looked at the screen confused.

“Why aren’t you at home- Blue eyes doesn’t know, does she?”
“Nope. And you have great internet… Man, it’s like… Fifty-thousand times faster then on earth.”
“Okay… Whatever… So… Help me!” I looked over the shoulder and saw that the character was doing something. He then turned and stopped doing it…
“She was dancing!” I exclaimed, “What was that dance?”
“It was just /dance crazy Twilek.”
“Dude, do it again, that’s perfect, its exactly what I need.”
“Okay… Whatever…”

He did it…


In case the Embed doesn't work.
A lower, but better quality half dance

It looked something like that.

I grabbed some of my clothes. Some red ones, red usually clashed, I ran to my drawer, grabbed a pair of Fire-Island 9,393,456,102’s famous fire-gloves, and I grabbed out my fake pit of coals.

Perfect… A fiery dance for the ages.

~*~

I got up on stage, the lights were bright, but I liked it that way. I never had to look at my crowd that way. I walked out on stage, dropped my fake pit of coals, not turning it on yet… I stepped up. I put my hands on my hips, as music began to play.

I started with my arms, I moved them in a fluid motion, then I began to move my hips that have never lied to me. I moved them back and fourth slowly. Raising my arms in the air as I wiggled my body.

I smiled as I lit my hands on fire with the gloves. It burnt brightly and the lights died down. I started moving the hands towards my face and on my hips so the curves of my body could be seen.

With a sharp turn in the up-beat of the music, I hit the button on my fake fire, and it lit up brightly showing the whole of my body in a dull red glow, and I started to get into the more complicated hip movements and arm movements.

I finished it all off in a burst of red flame that shot me onto the ground near them where I landed with perfectly on the table of four very strange looking gentlemen.

Mage
Mohawk
Shaman
Mage
(Jean Claude
Mr. T
Shatner
Verne Troyer)

They started clapping and stuffing my sleeves with green money, and I sighed… Perfect, at least I entertained someone.

Firey Hugs, and dna sguH yerif(ia),
Erifia Apoc

(A note from the Author- FOR THE HORDE!)

Mission Six and a Half: Escape from a Mad Black Woman

"We're going to need your tongue, how you doin'!" she said from atop my helpless body.


"AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRCCCCHHHHHH!!!!!" I screamed as she ripped the duct tape from my face.

"Ooh, yummy!" She licked her lips. "My very own mysterious man in horn-rimmed glasses," she said placing my glasses back on me. Corrected vision only made things worse.

"Wait!" I yelled.

She looked annoyed, "The Hell I won't!" She puckered her lips and made her way in for the kill, I mean, kiss.

"AIDS! Herpes! Mesothelioma!" I screamed.

She stopped her approach and asked, "What?"

"I've got all those diseases, ya know. I'm required by law to warn you."

She thought it over for a moment, then said, "I'll take my chances."

As she was about to do the dirty, the door was kicked open by The Haitian who was responding to my distress call from my ankle alarm which I activated as I was being dragged away by the Professor's drones.

"Well, it took you long enough!" I said.

"Sorry," he responded. "I was playing shuffleboard."

"Oooh, a threeway," the crazy whale of a woman said with glee. "How you doing!"

"Shoot her! Shooooot her!" I yelled.

BANG!


"Oh, no you didn't!" she hollered and fell off the side of the bed. Blood poured from her massive posterior as she stood up. She moved her hand behind her and felt the wound. "My junk!" she cried, then fainted.

The impact of her unconscious body hitting the floor caused the bed to shake. "Quick, untie me," I commanded to The Haitian. As I was freed I explained to him that I would need his help getting her to medical care.

He seemed confused. "Why would we give her medical care? Does she have a power?"

"Trust me." I called in some men to help us carry the beast to the medical ward.

Professor Xavier was sitting inside playing a game of chess with himself as I walked in alone. "Ah, Bennet...that was fast," he said smiling. "You know, if you ever need stamina lessons-"

"We've got a bullet injury, doc. It requires your immediate attention." I whistled and The Haitian and crew pulled the overweight victim inside. They rolled her over, exposing the wound.

"Hmm..." the Professor stroked his chin. "Yes, I'm afraid it looks fatal. There is nothing I can do."

"Well, you are the doctor," I said as Jon and the others came in inquiring about the ruckus.

"What happened to her?" Henchman asked.

"Is she alive?" Oneida questioned.

"She'll be fine," I reassured them. "We had an accidental weapons discharge in her hind quarters."

Many people snickered.

I continued, "We just need the doctor here to get the bullet out and stitch her back up."

The professor squinted as he repeated, "There is nothing I can do."

"What's up, Doc? Mental powers not working?" I asked patting The Haitian on the back. "My friend here has a tendency to put a damper on such mental powers like yours. Hope you don't need them for the operation."

Everyone stared at him, waiting. He stared back, then reluctantly picked up the surgical pliers.

We all waited outside as he operated. The Haitian kept the room shrouded in a mental block while we did. A few moments later, he rolled out.

"Well?" Jon asked. "Did she make it?"

"She'll be fine," Charles said. "It'll be a couple weeks before she's back up to full strength. But don't worry, Noah," he said tossing the bloody bullet at me. I caught it as he continued, "I'm sure she'll be ready to finish what you two started in no time."

As he rolled off, I asked Jon if I could shoot him.

"Not today, Bennet," Jon replied, "not today."

Xavier grumbles

"This can't be right," I said to Jon. "I'm the ship's doctor?"

"Well yeah, but not really," he answered. "I mean you won't have to treat anyone or anything. The fact is, I just had to assign each player to a certain part so, you know . . "

"Well I just think it would make more sense for me to be the Captain, don't you? I am after all the head administrator of a large school full of very powerful mutant children. I have my own private army and I'm the most powerful telepath on the planet. Even on Hacknor."

"Yeah, I know that. Look, it really doesn't mean anything. It was random."

"You assigned the roles?" I asked, leadingly.
"Yes."
"Then you can re-assign them," I suggested.

"Well no, see, we already ran the promo and everything. I tell you what though, the next time we do a Love Boat challenge, you can be the captain."

"But Noah Bennet? The man is a sociopath."

"Oh, is that what this is about?" I heard Jon think as a knowing grin crossed his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "Look, I've got to run. I've got this, uh, thing."

With a sigh I rolled my chair over to the entrance to greet my passengers. The first to walk through the door was a rather odd looking, thin man who was making very strange ooh sounds.



"Ooooh . . this sooo exciting," he said in a bizarre, high-pitched, silted voice. Perhaps this man is a mutant. If so, Magneto can have him.

"My name is E-mo," he told me. "Ee-mo Phillips."

"Wonderful," I answered.

"I am looking forward to finding true love."

Walking in behind him was a tall, rather harsh looking old man with white hair. I looked again and realized it was Bea Arthur.

"I have always dreamed of going on an enchanted cruise," Emo droned own. "It would be there that all my hopes of finding the perfect mate would be realized."

Bea Arthur came to a stop next to Emo. As she glanced down at him, a look of condescending revulsion crossed her face. Perfect.

I reached into both of their minds and rearranged various elements. As they turned to look at each other, their eyes suddenly filled with glowing adoration. All at once they flew into each others arms and began passionately kissing. My stomach started to kick in protest.

"Please!" I whispered sharply. "Here's your room key. Go!"

As they skipped off, hand in hand, a loud thumping started to fill the ship. The floor began to shake with each thump. There, over the ramp, came Granny Goodness in a bikini. Everyone on the deck started screaming and running to jump over the rail.

Granny waddled over towards me. We were now the only people on the deck.

"Uh yes," she said. "My name is Goodness and I am here for some sweet, sweet lovin'."

I forced myself to look into her face. For the first time in my life, my mind was blank.


"Now what I want is a smart man," she told me. "And he has to be handsome. Someone in good shape. Oh, and he has to have a job. Something in management with a good salary. And maybe he has a hint of mystery, you know. But he's got to be intelligent. He's got to look intelligent. Maybe he has glasses or something."

Then a lightbulb went off.

I gave Granny a room key and told her to give me 10 minutes, her dream man would be waiting for her. Next I went below deck. Finding two strong looking crewmen, I took mental control of them. Then we hurried to the stern supply closet where Mr. Bennet was hiding himself as played with his Rainbow Brite collection.

"Grab him men," I told the two crewmen.

"What's the meaning of this, Professor?" Bennet spluttered. I wanted to tell him but I couldn't stop laughing.

I had the crewmen drag Bennet down to Granny's room and tie him to the bed. Bennet was yelping the most horrible things, so I had his mouth taped.

Then he stopped squirming as we all heard the pounding footsteps of Granny Goodness as she lumbered down the hall. A wicked grin crossed my face.



Granny appeared in the doorway. I decided to leave the two love-birds alone. As I rolled down the hall, a horrible wailing followed me. I realized, of course, that I could have simply taken over Bennet's mind. Perhaps made him think that Granny was Megan Fox or someone like that. But this was so much more fun. In fact, at the risk of my sanity, I decided I would just have to take one peek.








America's Funniest Love Boat


Bob Saget put his arm around me. I felt a little nervous, this being my first date with him on this luxorious cruise ship, but I knew he liked me. I couldn't believe it! I may end up being D.J., Stephanie, and Michelle's new mommy!

Bob pulled out a portable DVD player. "Would you like to watch some home videos?" he asked. I nodded, and he began playing his movies.

"Here I am, riding my bike, and, whoa, I just flipped over the handlebars and knocked out my two front teeth! Hahaha. And now, here's another one, oh, I'm drunk. I'm running into things. I just knocked over my brother's $25,000 vase from ancient China! Hahaha. Oh, now, this one's a good one. I'm jokingly sexually accosting my mother. And here it is. Ooooh, right in the groin! Hahaha!"



Bob couldn't stop laughing. He was distracted. This was my chance! My chance to murder a B-list celebrity! I'd win the challenge for sure! I raised my finger, ready to chop some skulls, when I heard a voice.

"Sylar!"

I turned and saw Mr. Glasses.

"The challenge is to entertain some B-list celebrities, not murder them."

"It is? Awww. Can I kill him anyways?"

"No!" Mr. Glasses put his foot down.

"Then I'm leaving you!" I threatened.

"I'm not your husband, silly britches."

"Sure you are, we have the same last name! You're Captain Bennet Stubing. I'm Vicki 'Sylar' Stubing!"

"Sylar," he said, breathing heavily, "I am your father."

"No. No. That's not true! That's impossible!" I shrieked. "I hate you, daddy, I hate you!" I ran off, sobbing.

Bob sat there with Mr. Glasses, looking confused. "He wanted to kill me?"

"Well, yeah. Does anybody not want to kill you?"

"But, I thought he really liked me." Bob's eyes started to water, and he ran off, sobbing.

I walked down the Leviathan, all angry 'n stuff. Stupid daddy Glasses! Won't even let me kill people! I don't know how to entertain! Unless my entertaining involves killing people.

As I got near the ship's bar, I heard a familiar voice: "...I tell ya, he's insane. He got our ship piloted into the sun! If I hadn't gotten on an escape pod, I'd be dead! Not only that, but he didn't remember me in Batman! I mean, how many black Harvey Dents are there? Just one! I'm the only brother who could pull it off!"

I squealed in joy as I turned the corner and saw the love of my life, Billy Dee! Now, there was one man I could entertain, if you know what I mean- by sleeping with him, if you know what I mean- though there wouldn't be much sleeping involved if you know what I mean- we'd have sex.

He saw me, and snapped his finger, "Oh no you didn't," he said to me with sass. He turned to run, but I held him in place telekinetically.

"Stop! I'm here to entertain you," I informed him.

"I don't want no entertaining, you'll get me killed!" he responded.

It was then that Bob Saget, in his jealous rage, came up behind me and kicked me in the balls. I fell to the ground, and Lando along with me. As I rolled around on the ground, Bob started to laugh. Then, Lando's rage melted away, and he joined in. And even Luke Skywalker, who Lando was talking to, laughed, too. Then, the laugh track joined in!

I got up, in pain, and put my hand on Lando's shoulder. "Um, like, listen, sexy. I'm sorry I had your ship piloted into a sun. I just wanted to like, murder some peeps and eat some brains."

I turned to Bob Saget. "And I'm sorry, Bob, that I didn't get to kill you."

"It's not too late!" Bob said.

"And I'm sorry I didn't have sleep with you," Lando said, addressing me after I finished murdering Bob Saget. "I'm just not gay. Hmmm. I think I have a solution. Have you met my friend, Mark Hamill here?"

"Hey, sexy," Mark winked at me, and kissed my hand. Oooh, how dreamy.

"What a matchmaker I am. Now, let's all dance! Hit it, Don Johnson!"

And with that, Miami Vice guy, music legend, and teen heartthrob Don Johnson stepped out onto the stage.

"I'm lookin' for a heartbeat!" Don soulfully sang.

"Hey, Don! I've, like, totally got a heartbeat!"

"Yes, yes you do," replied Don, licking his lips.

And with that, we danced the night away, with yours truly in between a sexy man sandwich of Don Johnson and Mark Hamill. Three guests successfully entertained, only one murdered, I think that ended up a pretty good night for me!

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Superboy: challenge 6

Sigh thanks a lot Jon. While my relationship is screwed up I have to make people fall in love? Gah, that and I have to do something with purses, and a Yeoman. Not sure where to find a middle ages landowner on a space ship. Okay, whatever, if it's something dirty, that would be more Sylar's job.

I pass Nepharia torturing the passengers, And West whispering sweet nothings into the walls, hey at least it keeps him from asking me what Krypton was like, every five minutes.

So I go outside to find a bunch of passengers, have taken an escape pod to a space station with a swimming pool. I have to save the station from a freaking Space Kraken.

I fly there, and the thing shoots red sun rays at me. I respond with my mega punch.
Photobucket

That really only stunned it as it tried to eat me. Then the picture of Granny Goodness from the rat challenge fell out of my pocket, and the Kraken ran making a yipping sound.

I told the passengers “Ya don't want to be around Space Krakens; especially if you're hot girl what happens ain't pretty unless you're Japanese, and a perv."

So after getting all the passengers on board again the Muppet that steers the ship yells at me to stop jumping off and saving people.

"Do you know how hard it is to get this ship to turn around while being fused with it? It's not easy being green! Stop flying off the ship! Got it any questions?"

“Yeah what's your appeal?"

He flails his arms comically and yells. Enough fooling around. I go into the galley where Robin is eating something gross because he didn't find love. He glares at me. “I am not talking to you Conner; you locked me in the Batmobile's trunk."

I look over to the other side where the Spoiler his ex dead ex girlfriend is sitting by herself. "I thought you two where reigniting the spark." I ask.

“She shot someone Kon, she's no better than a villain." He sneers.

" Oh alright it was just you were so mopey when everyone you knew died, in a short amount of time, that I thought when one of 'em came back that you wouldn't let her go is all. Guess I had you pegged wrong. I mean Batman forgave her, and well she could die again and..."

That seemed to be enough.

But then I thought to my self is Robin a B list celebrity? Okay besides that billboard smear campaign I put up a while back I'm not sure. Oh yeah here's the bilboard.

While pondering rather or not he counts as a celebrity or not I see Hilary Duff.

“Actually I'm not Hilary Duff I'm a robot that looks like her made by a mad scientist."

“Koma?" I ask.

“Who? No my creator stole my designs from some guy named Austin Peters, but he became tired of me, and threw me out. I'm looking for another lover, but he has to evil."

“Boy have I got someone for you he's even figured out the secret to great villain dialogue!"

We walk down the hall a bit too where I introduce her to Cyborg Superman.


“Something Something Hate You! Something Something something kill!"

Okay I take that back about his dialogue being great. He grabs me by the throat and punches me into the ship’s walls with West yelling "No you're hurting her!"

“Something something something who cares?"

" Squee!" The robot Hilary Duff yells. “You’re so evil you're perfect!" She jumps up and hugs him.

“Something something something nice hardware blah blah yakkity yak."

They walk off together, hand in hand. I rub my neck. And sigh I decide to back go hangout outside the ship and just look at space awhile." You're a hard man to find. “I hear from one of the portholes.

It was Cassie. “Here to make me look gay again? Not that there’s anything wrong with that." I say into a Titans communicator seems this ship has a bit of atmosphere around it.

“Seinfeld was years ago Conner you don't need to reference it come into to the ship I want to talk.”

We argued for a bit, she accuses me of being afraid of commitment.

“Well yeah every time we get close, a teammate goes nuts and tries to suck us all into the Afterlife, or I die or something."

I could bore you with the rest of the conversation or I could just show the end result.



Looks like I'm a one woman man now, I can look but not touch, I can live with that. I still haven’t figured out the thing with the Yeoman and the purses though.

Mission Six: Love is Blind

"I am Gavin MacLeod of the clan MacLeod," I said withdrawing my katana. "There can be only one!" With one quick swipe, followed by a few hacks and a dice, I decapitated the acne-ridden busboy.

Sylar giggled as he chased after the rolling head.

Professor Xavier rolled over to me. "That's just great, Bennet!" He sounded annoyed. "You realize I have the underwhelming honor of being the doctor on this sentient ship, and you've just caused me hours of paper work!"

I wasn't sure what he was complaining about. Paper work is the best kind of work. "Relax. We'll get someone to clean up this mess," I said glancing down at the blood puddles and leaking body.

"That was the busboy, you oaf. He is now the mess he would be cleaning had you not killed him."

"Sorry, I was just doing the challenge," I replied. "I'm Gavin MacLeod of the clan MacLeod."

He rolled off shaking his head.

I wasn't sure what the fuss was about, but I noticed there was a bar on this vessel. I made my way over to it and ordered up a drink. Suddenly, the bar began whispering to me. "You didn't read the challenge, did you?"

"What? Who said that?"

"Down here."

I looked behind the bar to find West slouched over his laptop. "West," I said.

"Shhh!! He'll hear you."

I looked around and didn't see anybody. Not that I was surprised. This boy has always been a bit of a conspiracy nut. "Well, as a matter of fact," I whispered back to him, "I merely skimmed it. I'm Gavin MacLeod of clan MacLeod. That's all I need to know."

"You're thinking of Connor MacLeod. You're the captain of this ship, not the Highlander."

The news was like a Sith kid finding out the truth about Darth Claus. "You mean...I'm not supposed to chop people's heads off as I make my way toward The Gathering?" I was very disappointed. This had seemed to be the most fun challenge yet.

"No," he said. "You have to entertain the celebs, and since you're captain," he talked as he typed away on his laptop, "I guess you gotta watch out for space icebergs or something....Hillary Clinton!"

Being a Nixon-era Republican, that was my cue to leave. I re-read the challenge and made my way to the ship's bridge, after applying my "No Fat Chicks" bumper sticker to the outer hull.


As a born leader, I found the piloting of this ship to be one of the easiest tasks I've done on this competition. Plus, since it's alive, it pretty much drives itself. I still barked out orders to project an image of authority.

Just as I was getting into the groove of commanding the Leviathan, an old man ventured into the bridge and interrupted my superb captaining. "Oh, excuse me, ma'am," he said as he bumped into me. "I'm just on my way to the restroom." He felt around as he made his way over to a Diagnostic Repair Drone and began unzipping his pants.

My hand moved to my katana, but the Professor's words came back to me. I'm the doctor, blah, blah, blah. I didn't want to give him any more patients to justify his six-figure salary. So, I grabbed the old man by the shoulder and said, "Careful there, King Tut. That's a DRD. There's an astromech droid right around the corner." I gave him a push in the right direction, "I think you'll find he's better suited for such warranty-voiding activities."

A few moments later, the old man returned. "Thank you, young man." He extended a hand, which I declined to shake. He apparently didn't notice that, so I grabbed a nearby coffee mug and let him shake that instead. "The name's Magoo, Quincy Magoo. I came on this ship in search of love, but all I've found is really bad diarrhea. Who prepares the food on this ship, a rodent?"

I felt bad for the old man. "Sorry, gramps. I got a ship to run. Beat it." I let him find his own way out. It took a couple hours, but a few falls and a couple of bruises later, he was out of my hair.

"It's just easy sailing now," I commented as I laid back in my captain's chair. I hit the intercom button. "Bring me a cosmopolitan!" I heard snickers, followed by yes sir.

As my cosmo arrived, the ship began to shake. My drink was dropped, but as I reached for my katana to fire the waiter with, I was knocked down by the turbulence.

Sirens sounded and people were screaming. I pulled myself up and spoke into the intercom, "Don't worry paying customers, we have an onboard physician available to take care of your injuries. As for the staff, refer to your HMO."

The Professor replied via the intercom, "Bennet, you do realize I'm a teacher. My doctorate is in philosophy. I'm hardly qualified to-" He cut out. There was a large zapping noise and the ship surged with electricity.

"Hmm..." I thought aloud. "That's no space iceberg."

I ran to the nearest porthole and glanced out. It was worse than I feared.


"Hey! I said no fat chicks!" I yelled out at the bolt-casting abomination.

"I'm big boned," the creature replied and continued blasting away at my lovely love boat.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked in desperation, hoping to buy some time for some retaliatory plotting.

"Because a little mermaid stole the man I wanted to have love me!" She accentuated her answer with a broadside tentacle slap.

"Wait...all you want is love? This happens to be a love boat!"

"I know! That's why I'm destroying it. No man could ever love an overweight half-octopus woman. And if I can't have love, nobody will! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha HA!"

"Ha!" a voice on the intercom laughed. "Great job as captain." It was the Professor. "You steered us right into the fury of a woman scorned."

"Shut up, you old fool!" I snapped back. Old fool... Of course! I called out to the cellulite monster, "I can find you love!"

She stopped pounding the ship with her tentacles for a moment and replied, "You can?"

"Of course, it's the LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE Boat."

"Exciting and new?"

"Always. Just come on inside," I said.

She nodded and began to shrink down to a socially-respectable, though still overweight, size. She pushed her tentacles through the entrance.

"Wait right here," I said. "I'll be right back with the love of your life."

I found Mr. Magoo talking to an ice sculpture. "Excuse me, Quincy. Can I have a word with you?"

"Certainly, boy. This conversation was beginning to cool anyway."

I grabbed the myopic man by his arm and led him back to the bridge. "You know how you were talking about wanting to find love, well I found you someone. She's a real looker too, take my word for it."

I opened the bridge door and said, "Ursula the Sea Witch, meet Mr. Quincy Magoo."

"He's kind of old," she said disappointed.

"What? Who said that?" Magoo responded with his fists up in the air.

"She said she loves your fabulous hairdo," I said quickly.

Magoo asked, "What hairdo?"

I ignored him and added, "Mr. Quincy Magoo here is very wealthy and finds you irresistible. Isn't that right, Quincy?"

He squinted in her general direction, and finally said, "Hubba hubba," which is old-speak for "Nice bod."

She scooped him toward her with a tentacle. I thought he was going to have a heart attack, but he just smiled and said, "I like your pet octopus. Does it have a name?"


"Just call it Octopussy," she replied and the couple left the bridge and headed for Magoo's bedroom.

Nepharia called me on the intercom, "Hey, I'm glad you got the racket to calm down and all, but you do realize we're still running a cruise here and this ship seems to be out of commission. Don't think I'm going to let your lack of performance cast me in a bad light!"

"Relax, get the Professor to fix the ship."

"I'm not a mechanic!" He shot back over the intercom.

"Well, good. Because this ship isn't mechanical."

Challenge #6: The Love Boat?

Cruise director.

I decided Jon had officially lost his mind this time. And since I couldn't make him pay, I decided to make the guests pay instead.

I had an entire ship of victims...er...guests handed over to me for whom to plan activities. Oh, and they must also fall in love. This should be a great deal of fun.

But first, to get out off this horrible uniform I was forced to put on for the opening segment and into something a little more comfortable:



"Julie," called a voice as I walked from my cabin. "Julie!....JULIE!" A hand grabbed me to get my attention.

"Julie, didn't you hear me calling you?" It was Ciera. Apparently since she didn't have to write this week's challenge she came on board thinking she was going to have a good time. Was she in for a surprise.

"What's with the Julie business?" I asked.

"Well," she began, "Since you are in the credits listed as Julie, we're required to call you 'Julie' ."

"That's just great," I said, shaking my head. "Just what I wanted."

"I like the name Julie," she said, trying to make me feel better.

"Right," I said. "What is it that you needed, anyway?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she answered. "The hot water in our room does not appear to be working. Would it be possible to have someone come look at it?"

"Did you bring your dearest love, Kirk, on board with you?" I asked.

"Of course," she answered, swooning at the very mention of his name.

"Then, no, it would not be possible," I responded, to Ciera's surprise. "You're lucky I don't eject you into space." At this Ciera began backing away from me.

"I...I'm sorry to have bothered you," she stammered, then quickly retreated back to her room.

I heaved a sigh. One romantic couple down, several hundred more to go.

But where to begin now? Perhaps the kitchen.

"Ok, guys," I explain as I marched into the head chef's office with my official-looking clip board. "We must conserve some of our food stores because we weren't given enough to last the entire cruise."

"What?" he said.

"You heard me," I shot back. "So tonight, we can't use any salt, butter, or meat of any kind."

"But I was planning on king crab legs," the chef whined.

"Well, I'm sorry," I answered. "We just can't afford it -- not tonight."

"Wow," he said. Then looking at me assuredly, he continued. "We'll come up with something, Julie."

I nearly hurled when he called me that, but kept my composure and smiled as pleasantly as I could. "Good man," I answered as I fought back the bile in my throat.

Next, I went to the different pool areas and put in so much chlorine that anyone who got near them suffered respiratory problem. We had several people rendered unconscious by the fumes and had to go to sickbay. This program director job was actually turning out to be a better assignment than I thought it would.

I finally went to the ship's stores and removed all the alcohol, putting it in a hidden area. The small amount that was still in the service areas was quickly depleted and the wait staff and bartenders began scrambling to find some more.

"Julie, Julie!" it was Issac, the bartender. "We're running out of alcohol and the guests on the promenade deck are about to riot."

I smiled coyly. "That's ok, Issac. I'll take care of it," and I patted him on the arm reassuringly. He smiled, apparently encouraged by this.

I went to the promenade deck and saw a throng of people yelling at some of the staff that was there.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I yelled, amplifying my voice using the Force. They quieted down some and looked in my direction.

"Hey!" yelled one man, "We came here to have fun. We can't have fun without tons of alcoholic beverages."

"You are not here to drink alcoholic beverages," I answered, waving my hand before them and bending their will to mine. "You are here to fall in love."

Their eyes all glazed over and then looked around at one another. Each grabbed the nearest person of their sexual preference and retreated to the different parts of the ship. Except for this one woman sitting off to the side as she sipped on some water.

"Why are you still here?" I asked.

"As you can see," she gestured to the rest of the deck, "I am alone."

I looked around; she was right. And since she was the only B-List celebrity I'd run into so far, I knew as part of the challenge, I had to help her fall in love.

"Hmmm, what cabin are you in?" I asked.

"I'm on deck 15, cabin 349," she answered; I made a note of that.

"Well," I said, "you can't stay on board if you can't find a partner." She seemed somewhat startled by this information and she stood up.

"I guess I better get started looking for someone then," she answered.

"Yes, you had," I responded. "And you had better do it by dinner time, or it's out into space for you."

"Uh, yes ma'am," and she ran off.

I yelled after her, "If you don't show up for the meal, I'll be sending someone to search for you."

Later that evening, as I was monitoring who came into the port side restaurant to make sure they were nothing but couples, a familiar face approached with a man in tow.

"Thank you for the encouragement," she said with a smile. "Without it, we would have never have found one another." She turned to her new love and took his hand. "Fox is never going to believe this."


After getting the pair seated, I decided to go to the starboard side restaurant to see how things were going. I was greeted by a very unhappy set of guests.

I shouted several times before getting their attention.

"Everyone," I shouted to all the disgruntled eaters, putting up my hands for their silence. "On the port side restaurant, where everyone there has all found their love on board this ship, they will be receiving prime rib for dinner." More shouts of protest arose from the crowd. "If you would like your meals to return to something more to your liking, I suggest you start looking for your loves as well -- otherwise tomorrow we will also be replacing your water with vinegar."

I love this job. Thanks Jon.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Ch. 6: West vs. Romance

I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve already fallen in love. This ship, oh, this ship is everything that I have ever wanted—a beautiful alien being that I could stay inside of for hours. I caressed the walls as I walked up and down the hallways, singing softly to my new girlfriend. Yes, I can call the Leviathan my girlfriend because she’s a ship and ships are ‘she’s.

“Come and knock on our door/We’ve been waiting for you…”

“That’s the Three’s Company theme, you idiot,” came a disdainful voice behind me.

I spun around and saw him, my nemesis, the bane of my existence, the boy I thought I killed: Wesley Crusher, all grown up and standing in front of me. I pulled out my gun. “This time you’re going down for reals, Wesley!” I threatened.

He gave me a funny look and I realized that I wasn’t even armed, I was just pointing at him with my thumb up. I shrugged and kept pointing.

“Wesley Crusher is a fictional character, fanboy. I’m Wil Wheaton.”

“Oh, sure.” I rolled my eyes. “Real creative there, Wesley. Next time you pick an alias try to think of a name that doesn’t start with W.”

“I’m only going to say this one more time, fanboy: Wesley. Is. A Character. A Character. A Character. Get it?”

“Aaaurgh!” I screamed. “You’ve been assimilated by the Borg and your cybernetic voice modulator is malfunctioning! Die, robot man!” I threw a deck chair at him and hid in the bar.

I pulled out my laptop to take advantage of the free wi-fi and searched the internet until I found his weakness, the one thing that could destroy Wesley/Wil once and for all: Wesley Crusher is hysterically afraid of powerful women.

“Hillary Clinton!” I exclaimed as I jumped up and my laptop clattered to the floor.

“Yes?” A middle-aged blonde woman turned around on her bar stool, a shot of Crown Royal lifted halfway to her lips. I took a seat next to her; she was drawing up plans for an invasion of Venezuela.

“I need you to help me destroy Wesley Crusher once and for all.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Kid, you’ve been listening to too much Rush Limbaugh.”

“The guy who does podcasts about Transformers?”

She turned away and resumed nursing her bottle of whiskey, shaking her head. I remembered that I had a challenge to complete, and figured that I should reframe my pitch to the Senator.

“Well, Ms. Clinton, since you’re on the Love Boat Leviathan all by yourself, perhaps you would be interested in a relationship with Mr. Crusher. What better way could there be to take him captive and make his life miserable? We wouldn’t have to worry about him again! It would be that robot’s downfall! Mwahahahahahaha!”

“Kid, sit down!” Hillary shouted, and then continued. “Okay, I’m in, but only because I need the press exposure. Conquering him should be even more satisfying than taking Caracas!”

I pulled out my map of the ship and devised a plan.

Later that night, at the dance held in the Mike’s Hard Onionade ® Discotheque, I cornered Wesley again. “You can’t escape me Wesley!” I cried over the din of the music. He saw that I was about to crush his skull with a speaker and ran to the far end of the room.

“There’s no way you can get away with this, fanboy. The blogosphere will disembowel you for this crime.”

“I’d like to see them try,” I sneered, “nothing can stop me. Now, Hillary!”

In the next room, Hillary flipped a switch, and the wall Wesley had leaned against spun around. Now Wesley was trapped in the wedding chapel with his arch-nemesis.

I strode into the chapel, where a panicked Wesley stared slack-jawed at his bride-to-be. “With the power invested in me by Last Gladiator Standing III, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Laters!”

As the wedding bells rung, my heart swelled with joy as I remembered what all great love is based on: callous disregard for one another and struggles for control. C’est amour, no?