I just thought this picture was funny. It seems incredibly familiar...
Perhaps an inspiration?
Somewhere in Satori...
"Ready for transmission sir."
"Excellent." Speaker Emainiac turns to his counsel. "From this day forward, no longer shall the Rebellion stand by and wait for the Confederation to crush them like a bug. From this day forward, the Rebellion will be making huge efforts toward the obliteration of the wretched leaders and governments of the Confederation." He turns back toward the Junior Engineer. "Send the message."
The Engineer checks his keystrokes on the screen, confirms the audio file to be sent is in place, and intact. His finger hovers over the Execute key. He closes his eyes, breaths deeply and activates the largest interstellar hyperspace radio broadcast ever known to man...
In the emptiness of Risa with the Gold 13 Manta Strike Force...
"Sir, how long do we have to be floating out here in this crater?"
"Until we get our ord-"
"Sir! I'm picking up a signal on the radio! Looks like it's from HQ! Damn it's strong!"
"Cap! I'm getting it too!"
"So am I soliders. Holiday, how is that possible?"
Holiday, the Long Range Radio Engineer examines the specs of the message. They couldn't have... he thinks to himself.
"They must have built one huge S.O.B. radio on Satori. Must be important."
"Then let's shut up and listen."
Their radios crackle and the clear steady voice of the Speaker streams through the speakers.
"Soliders, Allies and Enemies of the Rebellion. The time has come. The time for the rightful and just leaders of the Rebellion to become the leaders of the Free Galaxy. You have your orders. It is time to strike.
Enemies, you have the option to hand over power. I suggest, for the lives of yourselves and your people, you take this option.
Allies, the time is now, for us to stand together and obliterate tyranny from the Galaxy, join us in an unprecedented strike against the Rebellion.
All, I hope that through our strife, we can find peace."
"Boys... You heard him... Let's rock and- What the HELL!"
Emerging from hyperspace, an entire fleet, direct from Zaphod screams out of no where, dwarfing the Manta Strike Force.
"Howdy there boys."
"Sanders, I was wondering when you would come to steal my spotlight."
"Captain, you can keep your spotlight, we've come to steal the show. Got orders from HQ. You boys are to stay here, while this fleet strikes the First Blow in the new war against the Confederation."
The fleet enters hyperspace again, headed for Matar.
Zaphod fleet to Matar via Risa.
Attack at once.
Turin Fleet to Yemuro.
Attempt to establish a base of operations. Be Diplomatic about it.
Speaker emainiac walks into the conference room, late, of course. He walks to the head of the table, picks up the mug of coffee placed at his reserved seat, sniffs the contents of the cup and sets it back down on the table. He drops a plain, manilla envelope in front of his Secretary of War.
"Read it, Jack."
Looking up at the speaker, Secretary Rogers open the envelope.
"It's about damn time, sir." He then distributes the contents containing the official Rebellion Capital Region war plans and fleet assignments.
The Speaker walks around the table, eyeing his officers.
"General Sanders will command the Rebellion System Interceptor Fleet."
5 Rebel Cruisers
10 Rebel Destroyers
30 Manta Fighters
Total Cost: 103,500,000
"This fleet will take port in the Zaphod system, preparing to move out against the Confederation."
The officers look at each other.
"An identical fleet, The Rebellion Liberation Fleet commanded by Brig. General Kiowa will take port in Turin to either befriend or conquer the Independent Nations."
Total Cost: 207,000,000
"Located at Orion, Atropos, Clotho, Alkaid, and Spica, will be standard fleets designated 'System and Regional Enforcers' which will consist of...
5 Rebel Destroyers
20 Manta Fighters
For 5 systems, 120,000,000 credits
Total Spending:327,000,000 credits
"In Persephone and Satori will be a 'Supreme System Defence Fleet'"
10 Rebel Cruisers and 30 Manta fighters
133,500,000 credits per system
265,000,000 total credits
594 million total spending.
Finally, in Risa, A fleet of 13 Manta Fighters.
599,850,000 total spending.
Barth discovers that he has a long lost sister who is currently being mistaken for blueberry jam by a Mr. D. R. Hampton of Belmont at the Crescent 50th place.
For the record, the Boozerama Bar is not as vile as you may think. Perhaps in recent times it has been flooded with those who do not respect the somewhat creative side of the bar and we have lost many of the veterans, but we do not take it as lightly as you may think. I at least am concerned with the intrusion and disruption of barth who seems to feel himself rightly invincible. I on the other hand, know the very beginning of the bar. Oh yes, many of you may think that the bar originated in the original EV on Evildrome, but we must pay credit to author Douglas Adams, creator of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy. In the Restaurant at the End of the universe it is mentioned in passing by Ford Prefect in Milliways.
Perhaps you should not hold the establishment in low esteem, but the patrons who defile its walls. Most of us are literate and quite well spoken. Perhaps, as you have not considered, we merely wish to be able to be a little silly and random at times. This does not mean we don't take anything seriously or that we don't respect other posts.
Get your head out of your ass.
By the way Jimbob, I would be interested in the other story.
This post has been edited by emainiac : 10 September 2005 - 08:51 PM
I thought it was safe to back in the acid pit. It wasn't.
"The Supreme Rebellion High Command Admiral Reporting! What are you doing? No don't grovel!"
Barth, too random. emainiac invents a machine to dematerialize fake barths. He sets it off in the bar and the real barth is revealed in the corner, putting the moves on a very overweight woman.
emainiac climbs up into the rafters of the 200 foot high bar and promptly begins to splatter barth all over the bar with his sniper rifle.
The Bartender looks up, "Hey, we don' serve blobs 'ere." Barth looks up, notices something and extends a psudopod, "What about that sign? It says we serve blobs." The Bartender grumbles, "I'm aware." and slams a bowl of something that looks like mini-Barth. Barth gulps and he is thrown bodily from the bar. "Don't come back till you're a humanoid, ya hear?" Shouts the Bartender.