Kayfabe: "The Mars Expedition"
Nov. 9th, 2018 09:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rayaso Idol 2018 Mini-Season, Week 5
Topic: Kayfabe
Stan was alone on Mars. He sat in his shelter eating macaroni and cheese for lunch. Again. Through the only window, he could see the bleak Martian landscape. Still, this was his mission. This was what he had trained for – the first person on Mars!
“Think of the glory,” the astronaut thought. “I’ll be famous when I get back – I bet there’ll be a parade!”
But before the fame there was survival. The air was too thin to breathe, so outside his shelter the astronaut had to wear his space suit. And right now, there was a ferocious storm with winds so strong it made his little building shake. He could barely see ten feet out the window.
“Too bad I’m stuck here,” he thought. “I want to go outside.”
The astronaut hated being trapped inside. Outside meant freedom – there was a whole world to explore that no one had ever seen.
“I have important experiments and new places to see,” he thought. “I want to go bouncing!”
The gravity on Mars wasn’t as strong as on Earth, so he could hop like a kangaroo, only better. He couldn’t jump in his shelter, though. He had tried it a few times and Mission Control always made him stop.
“Quit jumping on your bed!” Mission Control had said. “Keep it up, and you’ll never get out of your room!”
Somehow, Mission Control always knew what he was doing, even though Mars was so far away. “You just don’t listen,” she would say, “it’s like you’re on another planet.”
Sometimes he just ignored Mission Control, especially when the Rules were involved. Once, the astronaut had asked her how she always knew when he was breaking a Rule, but she had just smiled. Mission Control was like that; still, he missed her, especially her brownies.
Right now, the astronaut had to wait for the storm to pass, but the winds weren’t going to die down until he cleaned his shelter.
“There’s a place for everything, and everything in its place,” Mission Control had told him.
“But what if its place is on the floor?” the astronaut had said.
“Try it and find out,” she had said. She wasn’t smiling.
Mission Control almost always smiled when she saw the astronaut, but not when she saw the mess in his shelter. “Pick it up. Now.” she’d said.
“It’s not my job” wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for.
“Then you’ll just have to stay in your room until it is your job,” Mission Control had said. Then the storm had started.
Well, the astronaut was stuck in his shelter until it went away and that wouldn’t happen until everything was neat and clean. The astronaut liked a messy room, but this was a pretty angry storm.
“I have to think of something,” thought the astronaut, as he sat on the edge of his bed, swinging his legs and staring out the window. There was no way out until the storm calmed down, which wasn’t going to happen unless he cleaned his room. He looked around at the jumble of books, the chemistry set, squirt guns, inventions, spare parts, balls, and clothes. The astronaut had all his best ideas here.
“I need someone to do it for me,” he hoped. But he was alone. If he didn’t do it, he would never get out. “If I had a robot . . .” he thought. Normally, the Chief Engineer built his robots, but he wasn’t here and the astronaut missed him. He knew how to calm storms.
“I’ll have to build it myself,” thought the astronaut, “but first I need some parts.”
The only equipment was outside in the spaceship. But what about the storm?
“I need the vacuum cleaner,” the astronaut radioed Mission Control.
The storm immediately died down. “It’s in the hall closet,” Mission Control answered. “You can leave your room to get it.”
The astronaut put on his space helmet and strapped on his gravitron shoes, which would help him walk on Mars despite the low gravity. He knew the storm could start again without warning and he didn’t want to get blown away.
The astronaut wheeled the mobile vacuum device back to his shelter. “The MVD’s motor is just the right size for my robot,” he thought, as he found his tool kit and set to work removing the casing.
It took a while, but the astronaut finally managed to free the motor. Suddenly, a hideous Martian opened his door -- she was twice as big as the astronaut, with curly blond hair. The storm also burst into full fury.
“What have you done to the vacuum cleaner?” shouted the Martian, who was clearly very angry. “You’re in so much trouble . . .” she started to say.
Before the Martian could finish, the astronaut grabbed his blaster and proceeded to shower her with a hail of deadly foam darts.
The Martian had made a big mistake. “She left the door open!” thought the astronaut, as he ran past her, firing his gun as he went. “I’m out!”
As he sped down the hall, he heard her yell, “Stan! Get back here! Now!”
If she said anything more, the astronaut didn’t hear it. He ran out the back door and saw the Emergency Escape Pod in the tree. Luckily, the ladder was down. He climbed up and pulled it after him.
He didn’t hear anything. He peeped out the window and didn’t see anything. “I’m free!” he thought. “Now what do I do?”
He knew he was in trouble and he felt bad. If he’d cleaned his shelter, he could let it get messy again and that was always fun. But he was stuck in the Emergency Escape Pod and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to put the MVD back together -- it was always easier to take stuff apart. Worse than anything, he was bored.
“Well,” he thought, “I can say I’m sorry.” He was sorry, and then he could clean his room. Maybe the Chief Engineer could fix the MVD – he was good at that.
The astronaut climbed down and started to walk back – and then he smelled it. “Brownies!” he thought, as he started to run.
He didn’t see the plate of brownies until he got to his shelter. They were on his bed, along with a broom, some rags, and spray cleaner. There was a note on the brownies: “We need to talk,” was all it said.
The astronaut got to work and mostly got the shelter ready for his next adventure. Then he ate the brownies. He didn’t want to talk to Mission Control, but he knew he had to.
The astronaut took the plate downstairs to Mission Control. “Are you ready to talk, Stan?” said his mother. “This can’t happen again.”
“I know,” said Stan, looking down at the floor. “I’ll be better.”
“I wonder what life is like in the Fifth Dimension,” he thought. “Do they have brownies?”
“You have to clean your room when I ask,” said his mother. “You’re getting too old for this.”
Suddenly, an interdimensional rift opened at Stan’s feet. He could see the Fifth Dimension!
“You are a part of this family,” said his mother, “and you’ve got to contribute your share.”
Stan felt the rift dragging him in. His mother’s voice began to fade when she started talking about the vacuum cleaner. When she stopped, he told her “I’ll do my best,” and ran to his bedroom to get his blaster. Suitably armed, he returned to the kitchen. The rift was still there and closing his eyes, he jumped in.
“Bzlgrsh,” said Zorn, Overlord of Dimension 5, as he ordered the destruction of Earth. “Nrlsh ag tolrrd,” he added, and the blaster began to power up, ready to turn the planet into rubble.
His mother saw her son come back to the kitchen with a dart gun, jump up and down, then run back to his bedroom. She sighed, poured herself a cup of coffee, and smiled.
Stan was off on another adventure.
* * * * *
There are two earlier stories about Stan.
“The Teddy Bear Detective”
https://rayaso.livejournal.com/22954.html
“Home on the Range”
https://rayaso.livejournal.com/26263.html
Topic: Kayfabe
THE MARS EXPEDITION
Stan was alone on Mars. He sat in his shelter eating macaroni and cheese for lunch. Again. Through the only window, he could see the bleak Martian landscape. Still, this was his mission. This was what he had trained for – the first person on Mars!
“Think of the glory,” the astronaut thought. “I’ll be famous when I get back – I bet there’ll be a parade!”
But before the fame there was survival. The air was too thin to breathe, so outside his shelter the astronaut had to wear his space suit. And right now, there was a ferocious storm with winds so strong it made his little building shake. He could barely see ten feet out the window.
“Too bad I’m stuck here,” he thought. “I want to go outside.”
The astronaut hated being trapped inside. Outside meant freedom – there was a whole world to explore that no one had ever seen.
“I have important experiments and new places to see,” he thought. “I want to go bouncing!”
The gravity on Mars wasn’t as strong as on Earth, so he could hop like a kangaroo, only better. He couldn’t jump in his shelter, though. He had tried it a few times and Mission Control always made him stop.
“Quit jumping on your bed!” Mission Control had said. “Keep it up, and you’ll never get out of your room!”
Somehow, Mission Control always knew what he was doing, even though Mars was so far away. “You just don’t listen,” she would say, “it’s like you’re on another planet.”
Sometimes he just ignored Mission Control, especially when the Rules were involved. Once, the astronaut had asked her how she always knew when he was breaking a Rule, but she had just smiled. Mission Control was like that; still, he missed her, especially her brownies.
Right now, the astronaut had to wait for the storm to pass, but the winds weren’t going to die down until he cleaned his shelter.
“There’s a place for everything, and everything in its place,” Mission Control had told him.
“But what if its place is on the floor?” the astronaut had said.
“Try it and find out,” she had said. She wasn’t smiling.
Mission Control almost always smiled when she saw the astronaut, but not when she saw the mess in his shelter. “Pick it up. Now.” she’d said.
“It’s not my job” wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for.
“Then you’ll just have to stay in your room until it is your job,” Mission Control had said. Then the storm had started.
Well, the astronaut was stuck in his shelter until it went away and that wouldn’t happen until everything was neat and clean. The astronaut liked a messy room, but this was a pretty angry storm.
“I have to think of something,” thought the astronaut, as he sat on the edge of his bed, swinging his legs and staring out the window. There was no way out until the storm calmed down, which wasn’t going to happen unless he cleaned his room. He looked around at the jumble of books, the chemistry set, squirt guns, inventions, spare parts, balls, and clothes. The astronaut had all his best ideas here.
“I need someone to do it for me,” he hoped. But he was alone. If he didn’t do it, he would never get out. “If I had a robot . . .” he thought. Normally, the Chief Engineer built his robots, but he wasn’t here and the astronaut missed him. He knew how to calm storms.
“I’ll have to build it myself,” thought the astronaut, “but first I need some parts.”
The only equipment was outside in the spaceship. But what about the storm?
“I need the vacuum cleaner,” the astronaut radioed Mission Control.
The storm immediately died down. “It’s in the hall closet,” Mission Control answered. “You can leave your room to get it.”
The astronaut put on his space helmet and strapped on his gravitron shoes, which would help him walk on Mars despite the low gravity. He knew the storm could start again without warning and he didn’t want to get blown away.
The astronaut wheeled the mobile vacuum device back to his shelter. “The MVD’s motor is just the right size for my robot,” he thought, as he found his tool kit and set to work removing the casing.
It took a while, but the astronaut finally managed to free the motor. Suddenly, a hideous Martian opened his door -- she was twice as big as the astronaut, with curly blond hair. The storm also burst into full fury.
“What have you done to the vacuum cleaner?” shouted the Martian, who was clearly very angry. “You’re in so much trouble . . .” she started to say.
Before the Martian could finish, the astronaut grabbed his blaster and proceeded to shower her with a hail of deadly foam darts.
The Martian had made a big mistake. “She left the door open!” thought the astronaut, as he ran past her, firing his gun as he went. “I’m out!”
As he sped down the hall, he heard her yell, “Stan! Get back here! Now!”
If she said anything more, the astronaut didn’t hear it. He ran out the back door and saw the Emergency Escape Pod in the tree. Luckily, the ladder was down. He climbed up and pulled it after him.
He didn’t hear anything. He peeped out the window and didn’t see anything. “I’m free!” he thought. “Now what do I do?”
He knew he was in trouble and he felt bad. If he’d cleaned his shelter, he could let it get messy again and that was always fun. But he was stuck in the Emergency Escape Pod and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to put the MVD back together -- it was always easier to take stuff apart. Worse than anything, he was bored.
“Well,” he thought, “I can say I’m sorry.” He was sorry, and then he could clean his room. Maybe the Chief Engineer could fix the MVD – he was good at that.
The astronaut climbed down and started to walk back – and then he smelled it. “Brownies!” he thought, as he started to run.
He didn’t see the plate of brownies until he got to his shelter. They were on his bed, along with a broom, some rags, and spray cleaner. There was a note on the brownies: “We need to talk,” was all it said.
The astronaut got to work and mostly got the shelter ready for his next adventure. Then he ate the brownies. He didn’t want to talk to Mission Control, but he knew he had to.
The astronaut took the plate downstairs to Mission Control. “Are you ready to talk, Stan?” said his mother. “This can’t happen again.”
“I know,” said Stan, looking down at the floor. “I’ll be better.”
“I wonder what life is like in the Fifth Dimension,” he thought. “Do they have brownies?”
“You have to clean your room when I ask,” said his mother. “You’re getting too old for this.”
Suddenly, an interdimensional rift opened at Stan’s feet. He could see the Fifth Dimension!
“You are a part of this family,” said his mother, “and you’ve got to contribute your share.”
Stan felt the rift dragging him in. His mother’s voice began to fade when she started talking about the vacuum cleaner. When she stopped, he told her “I’ll do my best,” and ran to his bedroom to get his blaster. Suitably armed, he returned to the kitchen. The rift was still there and closing his eyes, he jumped in.
“Bzlgrsh,” said Zorn, Overlord of Dimension 5, as he ordered the destruction of Earth. “Nrlsh ag tolrrd,” he added, and the blaster began to power up, ready to turn the planet into rubble.
His mother saw her son come back to the kitchen with a dart gun, jump up and down, then run back to his bedroom. She sighed, poured herself a cup of coffee, and smiled.
Stan was off on another adventure.
* * * * *
There are two earlier stories about Stan.
“The Teddy Bear Detective”
https://rayaso.livejournal.com/22954.html
“Home on the Range”
https://rayaso.livejournal.com/26263.html
no subject
Date: 2018-11-11 06:49 pm (UTC)