Shipping With Captain Bob.

n the Southern Spiral Arm of the galaxy known to human astronomers as M-33, was a rather nice red star. Circling that star at a distance of about an hundred million miles was a little pink planet known to the people that lived on it as Zatricon. The Zatriconians, as they called themselves, were of an average height of three feet, had two arms, three legs, and two heads. They were generally bluish grey in colour and their eyes were either purple or red.

One morning a Zatricon man, whom we shall call Bob, as his Zatricon name is unpronounceable to humans, left his house and walked down to the port to board his ship. Bob owned a big, old freighter that had just been loaded with rocks. He was going to take these rocks to a certain place in the South Zatricon Sea, where the New Continent was being built.

Bob boarded his ship, checked the cargo, and made sure he had all of his crew. He ordered the men to weigh anchor and take her out of the harbour.

Bob stood at the bow, admiring the beautiful pink sea. A bright green cloud rolled slowly past on the horizon, the colour beautifully complimenting the magenta sky. After a while Bob went up to the bridge and sat in his big, comfy chair. He kept an eye on the sea, and the other three on his Play Being Magazine. Just as he was enjoying Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple breasted whore of Eroticon VI, Bob’s first officer, whom we shall call Joe, entered the bridge. “Look, Bob, I need to talk to you.” Joe said.

“Sure, what is it, Joe?” Asked Bob.

“Well, Bob . . . geez, I'm not sure how to say this . . . .” Joe began.

“Come on, spit it out,” Bob said, laughing slightly.

“Well, Bob . . .” Joe reached into his pocket and produced a Zatron-X Hand-weapon and pointed it at Bob, “the guys and I have been talking, and we've decided that, uh, you're not a very good captain and--”

“Mutiny!? Gods, Joe! You can't mutiny, we've been friend for years!” Bob shouted.

“Yeah, I know, Bob, but you really suck as captain.” Joe said calmly.

Bob dropped his Play Being and lunged at Joe. Joe raised his weapon and fired while Bob was in mid-air. Bob felt an excruciating pain for three of four milliseconds before vaporising. Joe walked over to the helm and turned on a small fan to clear the blue mist that had been his friend Bob from the bridge. Joe went below decks and told the rest of the crew what he had done. The second officer, Bill, said, “Well, who's going to be captain now?”

Joe looked surprised “Well, I just figured, you know, since I killed Bob and all, I would be captain now.”

“Well, Joe, you're not a very good first officer, so I don't see how you could be captain.” Bill said, picking up a large titanium rod.

Joe stepped back a few paces and had started to say something when Bill swung the rod and shattered his left skull, sending droplets of blood flying in all directions. Bill now raised the rod above his head and swung downward, missing Joe's other head by a fraction of an inch and instead hitting him in the saddle, the space between the heads. Joe screamed with the head still capable of doing so and tried to run, but, having only the one functioning head, he found himself so disoriented that he fell. Bill walked slowly over to him, holding his rod in both hands. Joe opened his mouth to plead with Bill for his life, but before he could utter a word, Bill swung the rod like a n'taraan stick* and took off the top of Joe's functional head.

Now a crewman, Fred, had an idea. “Let's take a vote for the new captain.”

Bill, standing in the rapidly expanding blue puddle around Joe, said, “Good idea, Fred. Who wants to run against me?”

Another crewman, John, stepped forward.

“Good,” said Bill, “all in favour of me being captain, raise your hands. Fred, count the hands and write down who each one belongs to.”

Many of the crew raised their hands. Bill and John waited patiently as the votes were counted.

John spoke when Fred was done. “Everyone who wants me to be captain, raise your hands."

Fred noticed that several men were about to raise their hands but stopped for fear of being in the minority. John's face turned greyer and his mouths dropped open. Bill, still standing in the blue puddle, swung his rod as hard as he could at John, smashing both his heads with one blow. Bill then dropped his rod and headed for the stairs leading to the bridge. He indicated to Fred to follow him.

On the bridge, Bill said to Fred, “Let me see the list of people who voted for me.”

Fred handed it to him. He looked it over carefully, seeing that it contained the names of almost every crewmember. “Kill everyone who's not on the list," He said.

“Aye, sir.” Fred replied and left the bridge.

Bill sat in the comfy chair and picked up Bob's Play Being and listened to the screams from below of the men being killed.

AFTER SEVERAL WEEKS, the ship landed at the beginning of the New Continent, a small island of about twenty-three circular duoers in area, a duoer being about two and a half miles. It is often thought odd by other civilisations that the Zatriconians would measure area using a non-tessellating shape, but the circular duoer is broken down into smaller units called douers. These units are square, which always frustrates aliens who try to learn this complicated system. There are 243.0947 dours in a duoer. This frustrates the aliens more. Noncircular duoers, used to measure distance are broken down into 473,982.000 000 000 000 04 smaller units called deours. Upon learning this, one alien from a small red planet that circles a large red sun began hopping up and down uncontrollably until his own lower intestine jumped up through his throat and throttled his brain. Before he died, he was reminded of a small blue planet called earth that he had once visited on which he had read about a poet who, in the middle of a recital, had exactly the same thing happen to him, although for a different reason.

Bill disembarked from his ship and called all of the remaining men out for inspection. He looked them over thoughtfully and said, “You know, I don’t really like any of you. I would have you all killed right now if I didn’t need at least five men to run the ship. So, I have decided to kill all but five of you. You may choose these five by whatever means you think most prudent.” Bill started to turn and walk away, then stopped and once again addressed the men. “Um, if the means of finding the five involve any killing of any sort, don’t do it until all the rocks have been unloaded.”

All the men nodded and went back aboard ship while Bill strolled about the island thinking about having sex with many beautiful women.

When the entire cargo had been unloaded, about two days later, Bill once again called all the men out. “Have you chosen the five?” he asked.

“Not yet, sir.” The first officer responded.

“Very well, If you have not chosen in two hours, I will kill all but the five myself and then beat the five mercilessly until I get tired.”

The men returned to the ship and decided. Precisely two hours later, Bill entered the ship. “Will the five step forward?” He said quietly.

No one moved.

“What did I tell you would happen?” asked Bill as he took out his instant and excruciatingly painful killing device. He took a step toward the men. They did not move. He walked up to one and touched him with the killing device. The man fell limply to the deck without a sound. It had been so painful that the man could not open a single mouth. Thus went Bill; randomly killing men until five were left. These five were Fred, Jackie, Howard, Gary, and Melanthios. Melanthios had strange scars on his body and his sexual organs had been cut off for some reason. He didn't like to talk about what had happened to him, though he had told his dear friend John the whole story many years ago: Melanthios used to be the keeper of the N'r zaqyuns** for a very rich man. This man went away for many years, and eventually, since everyone thought that he was dead many men of wealth and nobility came to his house to try to get his wife. Melanthios was among them, even though he had neither wealth nor nobility. However, his master had not died. He eventually returned to find all these suitors in his house and, in a fit of rage, killed them all. Melanthios tried to escape but he was found by the master and his son. They tied him in a terribly uncomfortable position and cut off his sexual organs because he, the mere N'r zaqyun keeper had thought himself worthy to steal the wife of his master.

“Well, men, it is time to haul in the anchor and set sail,” Bill told them after catching his breath; beating them had been fun, but Bob wasn't as young as he used to be. The men immediately headed up to the main deck to carry out their orders. Melanthios had wanted to steer, but Howard told him to go and man the crow’s nest. Grudgingly, Melanthios climbed up to the top of the mast and sat there for three days until Howard called him down to be beaten.

Using a link from the anchor chain tied to the end of a rope, Howard and Fred beat Melanthios until his broken body lay bleeding on the deck. He was not dead, so Fred left a note near his face telling him to clean up the blood when he came to.

When they reached port, Bill invited his remaining crew except Melanthios to come over to his house and have sex with his daughters. When they reached Bill’s house, which had been Bob’s house until his death, Bill’s wife, who had been Bob’s wife, and Bill’s daughters, who had been Bob’s daughters, came out to meet them. Bill felt his wife’s firm, round elbows with delight. “I have invited my crew here to have sex with our daughters, is that okay, dear?” Bill asked.

“Oh, certainly.” Bill’s wife replied.

Everyone went inside the house and sat down in the living room. Howard had already chosen which daughter he wanted and began to lick her supple elbows passionately. His sexual organs became elastic and he stretched them out and wrapped them around her upper torso while she moaned softly. Fred, Jackie, and Gary were doing the same to the other daughters.

When everyone had finished having sex, Bill’s wife went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. “Well, guys, how did you like my daughters?” Bill asked.

“Mine was really good, best sex I’ve ever had.” Said Howard, rubbing her elbow. The others all agreed that his daughters were very good. Bill had already known this as he had had sex with each of them many times before they had become his daughters.

Bill’s wife had prepared fried animals of different varieties. After everyone had eaten their fill, Howard, Jackie, Fred, and Gary went home and Bill and his wife went upstairs to bed.

*N'taraan is a game very similar to golf. Players set their balls on the ground and hit them with n'taraan sticks, which are made of a special metal found only on Zatricon. This metal has the unusual property of amplifying force exerted upon it by thousands of times. So, when a player swings it, that force is amplified and applied to the ball, usually sending it into orbit, which is the idea of the game.

**N'r zaqyuns are small Zatricon domestic animals surprisingly similar in appearance to the xyrk'kb of Kurxcvt (a planet whose inhabitants believe that the use of more than one vowel sound per word is unholy) and the goat of Earth.

To Page Four.