“…quark.” (I don’t.)
“Quark.” (I really don’t.)
“You really do. It’s uncanny.”
“QUARK!” (It is not! Pen Pen isn’t even the same species as me!)
“But you both have claws, and you both sort of look like an erect-crested penguin- only in your case, with more frill and more fat…”
“QUARK QUARK QUARK. Grrrr…* “(I am not fat…err…grrrr?)
“Right, right. You’re not fat. Just big-boned, I take it? What’s that, by the way?”
Just as I’m about to smack HH- for lying about my shape, obviously- I see it too. Ahead of us is a large, empty patch of space, and between it and the ship is a very large neon pink jellyfish. It’s huge. Really huge- the size of a small planet, in fact, and much much much bigger than my ship.
It’s tendrils crackle with yellow light, and in one of them is a small robot that looks very much like Nibbles. I get the feeling I’ve seen this kind of thing before…**
“…”(Turn back my shark, or you’re heading for a slapper/my name’s Jellyman- the greatest born space rapper!)
“Womble…this one’s on you.”
This is from HH, who looks more lost than a dinosaur in a morphsuit. It’s saying a lot for a TimeLord- judging by his expression, it appears he’s never encountered an interstellar jellyfish quite like this before, not after however many thousands of years he’s managed to remain in existence. Giving Nibbles the mic, I try the obvious.
“Quark-quark quark?” (Why?)
“…”(This shark got balls, hear it asking me why/the jelly don’t like fish, jaws- beat it or die)
Hmmm…right. Unfortunately, I want to go that way. Don’t know why. I just really do. I’m not turning around, whatever HH says, and I’m not getting slapped either. We’re going to have to do this the hard way. Thankfully, on the way to Futurama I got in a bit of training. The Jellyman won’t know what’s hit it.
“Quark quark-quark grrrr quark!” (Cookie fantastic/android made of plastic, spin it on a bottle-top/move it on vanilla pop!)
It works. I can see the jellyfish gearing up for this, preparing a response to my opening salvo. HH has that mildly stunned expression again, and I think he wants to make the “N’awww…” sound, but I can only deal with one thing at a time. Right now, he’ll just have to wait.
I’ve got a battle to attend to.
*It remains to be proven if any other bird- let alone a penguin -is actually capable of growling, but Womble seems to manage it without trouble. No one else knows why this is, or even how he does it.
**Womble is correct in thinking this. Every intelligent life-form without a more convenient means to effectively communicate uses the small, docile type of robot known universally as You-Name-It (or YNI). The YNI are capable of transmitting many thousands of different languages via magic, and tend to spend most of their free time trying to persuade someone to give them a different name to the one given to them by whoever was around their owner at the time of their naming. For reasons unknown, they never ever succeed.