The Paddle Team Vs. Green Thumb Duo Part 23
By Dark Hilde
A Round Robin of the CS Insanity Central ML
Alex held onto the precious potato in his pocket. Really, it had been ridiculously easy to steal it and replace it with the control. Mueller signalled him from the corner, and he slipped down the hallway to join his friend. Soon they would be in the kitchen, and then...
Then they would decide how their booty could best be used.
**********
Lt. Col. Une stood in the kitchen, still interrogating the silently musing potatoes. They wouldn't talk, even when threatened. She went through PMSing moodswings like they were the latest fashions, going from 'Sweet, Understanding and nice Lt. Col. Une' to 'Lt. Col. Une the nasty and mean Potato Frying Bitch Queen' and then back again in a matter of seconds. 5.3 to be exact. This going on for about a minute or two while she finally realized she was getting nowhere fast, as everytime she would try to toss one of the disobedient potatoes that had angered her into the deepfryer, she would change moods like railroad tracks once again then decide they needed to talk their way through it, subsequently fishing the poor, suffering lad out of the bubbling brew again with a metal tipped, plastic handled spaghetti strainer.
Meanwhile, Alex and Mueller were laughing to themselves as they opened the door to the Kitchen, beliving that in a perfect world they would be homefree and perfectly capable to go on to Plan B, Phase 3, Section 8 and Part 2 of their third plan, and then decide what to do from there... They still weren't completely certain.
(Only because this Authoress who finally decided to get off her lazy ass and add to the RR, can't think of anything and doesn't even remember how they got there in the first place; but I don't think that's what they thought about it now, nope, they were just uncertain of the next step in... whatever plan it was they were diabolically scheming in hurried, quiet whispers and only now and then in secretive made up on the spot hand gestures pronouncing to each other their 'true intent' in a quet, hush-hush, haha we got it sorta way.... Which I think they forgot after a 'diabolical take over the world or a good portion of it worthy section' of Plan A was completed successfully and the purely joygasmic experience of such an endevour sucessfully accomplished had left them a little senseless and careless and well, dumb.... Yeah.) That's why they walked right into the Kitchen and smack into Lt. Col. Une. In bitchy mother- goddess mode. Luckily, they had stashed the prize in Alex's coat pocket... right before a quick makeout session in the hallway, when no one was looking, of course.
"You! Have you seen the POTATO!??" She practically shrieked.
Alex, face white, nodded then pointed to the potatoes, now all in a huddle for their lives near the volcano of bubbling and boiling death acid, hoping to distract the insane woman long enough for Mueller, whom had been passed the REAL potato behind his back, to make a hasty and unseen get away. Predictably, the distraught woman turned, inspected the flock then groaned. Mueller was nowhere in sight, the door still swinging on it's hinges, when the woman turned around once more to backhand Alex. "THAT'S NOT MY PRECIOUS! What morons!" She turned back to the pot of boiling death then suddenly started cooing, having taken off her glasses and wiped a bead of sweat off her cheek. "My little ones, tell me the way."
'I am so outta here...' Alex groped along the wall, hoping it would open in a secret passage and allow him some freedom... His hand reached the spice rack and then fell right past it as the rack fell to the side, not spilling a bottle, and amazingly opened, the wall sliding back like a swinging door on a mouse oriented livetrap. The man fell through the wall just in time for it to fall back into place, replacing the spice rack, and confusing an already befuddled Lt. Col. 'Miss Happy, joy joy' Une.
*'Beamed ya 'Back In SickBay', Capin'...I canna' beam in ya pants though!'*
(Ok been watchin too much old StarTrek)
Noin sat, waiting, on the bed when HE walked in, bleeding, and complaining about the 'Witch' having just pulled the last straw. She looked up, hoping it was her Zechsy, but then her face fell, and she with it under the weight of depression, back onto the spring filled, squeaky bed. COMPANY was not on her agenda, and she KNEW for a fact that her Zechs would not do a damn thing for her, to her, in her, on her, er, whatever in front of anyone else. She then resolved that she had to be rid of this pesky annoyance, but... how?
"Go away, Private." She flicked an annoyed look at Johnson who was heading for the first aid kit while holding his nose in his right hand.
"But I was ordered here by Lady Une..." He said, though it came out something like a muffled complaint, as his nose was busted. he sat on the bed nearby, first aid kit in hand.
"I don't care if you were sent here by Jesus himself to save the world! You get your ass up this instant! Hurry UP! I am gonna get LAID, Like, Right NOW! Do you UNDERSTAND that concept? Can you?" Erh, she hadn't meant for it to come out like that, but, hell, the look on his bloody face was priceless.
Until he said: "You want us to have sex? Uhm, lady, I am gay..."
"Gawd!" Noin rolled off the bed, or at least, that was her intent, before someone else came into the room, heavy footsteps falling behind her. She froze, thinking that she should probably stay on the bed if it were her White Knight come to save- er- lay her.
"Oh, Noin, I didn't know you'd been hurt...Run in to Une lately?" Peters said as Noin continued to get up off the bed, defeated. She had the angriest visage, kind of reminding him of Medusa, minus the snakes, of course. He sat by Johnson, who immediately went into mother hen mode over the little cut above his love's eye.
"I want you two OUT of here this instant. Something BIG, and oh god I hope, no I *know* it's big, is going to 'come' in here, literally, and I want to make absolutely CERTAIN that this event occurs without a hitch. Or, hmm...getting hitched...hmm...Not bad..." The two men glanced at the ranting woman then at each other, thinking they had better back away as fast as they could. She was almost as bad as the Witchy woman with the glasses. Really shouldn't think of your superior officer in that way, but hell... No one liked her anyway, right? Well, maybe the potatoes... nah, nope, not them either...