Fantastic Tales

Deep Sleep

2005-11-28T13:47:00.000-06:00

Greetings!

No, you are not seeing things, this is reality. I am back "blogging" as you call it in the 21st century.

You can kick me, you can punch me, you can throw garbage into my mouth, you can squirt mayonnaise into my circuit breaker and even crush my head with a vice, but you cannot stop me from blogging.

For too long at least.

Pardon my absence, but I have been away for a few centuries.

It is the darndest thing. It all started when I was making toast...

I had just finished updating my September 21 blog post, and then:

Boing!

"Oh dear, the toast is done. What an eventful day this is!" I said aloud.

As I turned around to retrieve the toast I feed to the birds every afternoon, I noticed the toaster was glowing and emitting a harsh red light. My ocular sensors were very nearly overwhelmed at the sight. I approached the appliance with caution, and with the deftest touch, depressed the side lever.

At that very moment, I heard a loud mechanical gasp, then a gag, and then there was nothing but a bright light. When I could finally see with some clarity, I noticed that my toaster was a shambles, and what appeared to be the corpse of a man in a labcoat was laying on my kitchen floor.

I was about to begin poking it with a spatula, but then-

"*Cough*Cough* Pardon me. Do you mind not poking me with that?" the pile of arms and legs mumbled.

"I am very sorry, I did not mean to- Oh...Oh my, I believe I caused another tear in the space-time continuum. I thought I had that fixed."

"No, no T.R.A.I.N.E.R. It's me, your old friend Dr. Qualms."

"What? Oh yes, Devoloper of Hypothetical Chronology and part time Commander of Fascinating Geology."

"Yes, it has been a long time."

"I saw you just last week"

"Oh, well, I was referring to the entire span of time, moreso than the actual span between...the...so...how are you?"

"Superb. Why did you just spring forth from my toaster?"

"Oh, that, well, I just wanted to stop by and say hello. I figured this was quicker than taking a cab. Rush hour traffic, you know."

"Really?"

"Actually, there is a bit more to my visit than just saying hello. You see that grape jelly on the counter?"

"You mean the grape jelly I always buy but can never actually eat since I am mechanical and it would short circuit me if I ingested it?"

"Precisely that grape jelly. Indeed, did you know that in four minutes you could have accidentally eaten that same grape jelly, therefore short circuiting and catching your toaster on fire, therefore causing a massive tear in the lining of the space time continuum?"

"I would never accidentally eat something."

"Well, I said could. Wouldn't it be fascinating to see the results? Yes it would. And I'm here to take you to the future with me. Would you like to see what the world is like three minutes from now? Of course you do. The toaster is already ruined, so we'll have to make due with the next best appliance equipped for time travel....Oh, here! This electronic turkey baster should do the trick. All aboard!"

(Three Minutes Later)

We reappeared in the near future, where Qualms and I saw an alternate universe version of myself.

"That is one handsome robot," I stated.

"Now here's where everything goes haywire," Qualms explained.

The alternate version of myself clamped his clamp around the jar and proceeded to let the purple goo fall into his pie hole.

"People food, yum," purred the alternate me.

"Something horrible is about to happen. Something that you or I could scarcely conceive of. Wait for it friend. Watch yourself, and I mean that literally and figuratively!" Qualms exlcaimed.

Suddenly, the sky turned orange and rain fell up and right as the fabric of time itself began to rip, a coffee can flew through the window and hit me in the head.

(months pass)

The next thing I knew, the I was laying on my side in a mud puddle with natives surrounding me and chanting. They were bowing to my turkey baster. Apparently Qualms had become stuck in the alternate universe and I was who knows where, but before I could prop myself up, I was tunneling through time again. I waved to a few presidents on my way back and managed to find a couple of rare nickels and a thimble before reappearing in the present day, or future to you.

It turns out that Qualms had to rig together some odd device using a clock tower and electricity to transport himself to the present day. Funny thing that.

So here I am, ten cents richer and bit wary of time travel. From now on, no more toast for me. Perhaps english muffins instead.

This Blog is Not Dead

2005-09-21T23:04:00.000-05:00

Here I am!

Busy busy busy, but I am back. Or at least here to tell you that I will be back. So, yes I am "blogging" again. Almost, but not quite a month since the last post. I have been doing some recruiting lately. That is right, I said recruiting. I have come across some rough and tumble characters lately. Many of them are just itching to climb into the ring. And boy, do I have some stories!

For another time.

Soon, I promise...

Really.

Forward it to the Future!: T.R.A.I.N.E.R.'s Mailbag

2005-08-22T23:39:00.001-05:00

Ahoy to all!

I am back from my much needed (and well deserved) vacation in the outer reaches of the galaxy. I thank you all for your kind thoughts and well wishes during my lengthy absence, but the rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Contrary to popular belief, I was not looking to find a new head to screw onto my shoulders. Am I so vain that I must change my appearance? No, I am not. My theory is that I stick with the noggin' that got me to bloggin'.

Somehow, I found myself on Mars once again. What can I say? Their casinos are outstanding, but lacking a bit in the scenic department. It can be a bit frustrating looking out of every window to see nothing but red rocks and dirt outside. Be that as it may, I almost lost my dome at the electronic blackjack table. My playing there also had the unintended consquence of getting whacked in the head everytime I uttered the phrase "hit me." But, enough of my gambling debts. You want something scandalous, do you not?

You are not getting it this week.

Instead...

Letters!

Reading these heavenly nuggets of text is like consuming a large piece of bread, except that here, every nook and cranny is filled with vowels, consonants and ampersands instead of butter or jam.

By the by, my cheese grater is working splendidly now, and I am having a heck of a gouda time with it. As for your letters, I see we have a few down here...

Ahem.

"Do you like Greenday?"

Well, that depends. Is it anything like the twenty-first century's Earth Day? If so, then I simply adore it. If not, than once again, I am more than just a bit confused.

On to letter number two.

"I LOVE GEREENDAY!"

Why yes you do. I could tell by the capitals and exclamation point.

"Come back soon and good luck with that cheese grater."

(See the above cheese grater response.)

Letter number three says:

"I didn't realize that T.R.A.I.N.E.R. had such professional contacts."

Well, I have many contacts, some of which are quite professional, and some of which are complete and utter garbage. I say this because my friend Lidd is built entirely from an old metal garbage cans and recycled newspapers. That is a story for another time though.

It has been a pleasure chatting with you this week, and now back to the arduous task of cranking out an entertaining post on a weekly basis.

Keep those comments coming and remember to tip your bookie!

T.R.A.I.N.E.R.

On Holiday

2005-08-08T13:51:00.000-05:00

Attention loyal blog readers! T.R.A.I.N.E.R. is currently traversing the outer reaches of space. He said something about important business and and needing to sharpen a cheese grater. We usually don't ask. He will most likely have some fabulous stories to tell when he returns. If you have any burning questions for our four foot friend, then please post them now.

Thanks for reading.

The Fantastic Tales Staff

Bringing you the finest future to past relayed content in this or any century.

T.R.A.I.N.E.R.'s Photo Gallery Archives #1

2005-07-25T22:53:00.000-05:00

Ahoy!

This is T.R.A.I.N.E.R. here friends. I hope you have thoroughly enjoyed the epic tale that has unfolded over the past few weeks or so. Now, instead of presenting you with another breathtaking adventure, I thought I would allow you to catch your breath and peruse a few photos from my personal collection. Here, you will get to meet a few of my friends (and enemies) from some of the stories I have shared over the last few months. Enjoy!

Part 1: Ace Goes on a Rampage (from the 'Scattered' storyline)

Behold! The Age of Our Sponsors!

2005-07-25T18:09:00.000-05:00

Greetings!

I just wanted to let all of you know that those fine pieces of advertisement on the right hand side of the page are from our generous sponsors. They keep this "blog" up and running, so let us all commence with the clicking and the buying.

Many thanks,

Your pal,

T.R.A.I.N.E.R.

Scattered (Part 4)

2005-07-17T23:07:00.000-05:00

"Higgins? What in the name of jet propulsion are you doing here?" Ace asked.

"Quiet. Now, you're going to turn around, and start walking back into that cave," Shift demanded. Shift pointed to Ace's gun and gestured for him to hand it over.

Ace returned him a cold glare. He began fiddling with his gun.

"Do it right now, or you're going to have another gaping hole on your face to go along with that mouth of yours.

"Ha ha ha! You- that- that's a riot! Put down the gun buddy...Come on, let's go find the others," Ace said with a slightly uncomfortable grin on his face.

"I'm not joking, Ace. Turn around now. Do it." Ace handed over his weapon with a short sigh. Shift motioned to the cavern behind us with his gun.

"Why are you doing this?" Ace asked.

"If I rationalize it to you, will that make you comply any faster? Because if it will...Well, I still don't care. I'm the guy with the gun. You don't get to ask any questions." Shift had a stare that felt like a dangling dagger. You knew it would hit, but you just could not tell when.

Ace and I both turned around and started moving back from whence we came. The rush we had of defeating the wild cave beasts had begun to fade.

"You know, I never really liked you. You were always just a bit of a....weasel. I mean, I'm certainly all for following orders, but you, you were something else. Always Moonie's lapdog. Always worming your way into his little private circle. Finding out things that you shouldn't. But of course, I had no idea then."

"Quiet down."

"If I had known then, I would have dealt with you."

"You know nothing! You are a rookie. You have no idea what's been going on, how I've been treated. I don't wait for things to happen, I make them happen. And I'm fed up with the squad, so here it is. The end of the squad. That's you." He ended the last part with a steely grin. A cold smile for a cold man. I wanted to shiver.

"Wait, you killed everyone else off? How did you find them so quickly?"

"I said, shut up! You do not ask me questions, Ace. Although, because I like to gloat, I will say that the timing was nearly impeccable."

"Timed explosives in all the craft...Well, isn't that just dastardly of you? Apparently the one in my ship was faulty."

"A small hiccup in an otherwise well orchestrated plot. We're here now. Get over to the wall and turn around. Both of you." Shift stood like an executioner, sternly waiting for the prisoners to line up for their death orders.

As we turned to face the wall, Ace winked at me. I thought it an odd time to be making silly face gestures, but I winked with my left eye as best I could.

"Hands up on the wall. Very good. I'd apologize, Ace, but, frankly, you annoy me. So, farewell," Shift said smugly.

"Wait!" a voice cried from the back of the cavern.

"What the devil?!" Shift's anger had hit a peak.

"You have to go through me, first, you brigand!" Moonie cried. I could not believe that it was him.

"You died underneath your ship! Agh! You only delayed the inevitable." Shift began to grit his teeth.

"Justice is the only inevitable here, my friend," Moonie declared. He reached into his pocket and brought out a small red grenade. "Meet justice."

"Very clever, Moonie. I should have expected more from my fearless leader, but I suppose I underestimated you. Now, put it down now." Shift was beginning to get nervous now.

Then-

"Rrak, Rrak!"

A shrill sound filled the cavern. I looked over and saw three monsters running towards our group.

"Now, T.R.A.I.N.E.R.!" Ace yelled.

I proceeded to extend my neck, and turn on my glowing brain once again. I flashed it wildly and emitting a loud siren sound, hoping to distract and confuse Shift from us. Between my antics and the monsters approaching, he turned away from Ace briefly. Ace took advantage and did a sweep kick, knocking Shift to the ground. Moonie set down his grenade and came to help Ace.

A loud 'whap' sound was heard as Ace punched Shift in the face. In the midst of the fall, Shift dropped his gun and it went sliding across the slick icy floor towards the monsters heading our way.

Ace and Moonie were wrestling Shift, and I was left alone to deal with the monsters. Now, normally, I would happily oblige, but I was still armless, as Ace was carrying my arms in his pack. I was clueless as to how I would repel the beasts. As they came near me, they saw the light emitted from my brain and heard the horrible siren sound coming from my mouth. They all froze and began to panic. The next thing I knew, they all turned tail and raced into the opposite direction.

"Hurray, I'm beneficial!" I exclaimed. No one seemed to hear me.

Ace and Moonie had almost taken care of Shift, when Shift played dirty and kneed Moonie in the stomach. Shift reached into his leg holster and pulled out Ace's gun.

"Now, Ace, you'll know what it feels like to die by the blast of your own gun." Shift lifted the gun up and aimed it squarely at Ace's chest. He firmly pulled the trigger and-

The gun emitted a loud 'pop!', then 'boom!' and finally 'thud.' My back was turned, but I could not bear to turn around.

Then, there was silence.

I turned around. Ace was sitting on the floor, calmly surveying Shift's body, as it lay twenty feet away against a wall, unconscious.

"Ace, you did it!" I cried.

"No, we did it," Ace stated

"How did you-?" I asked politely.

"That's easy. While he was going on about taking care of us back at the cave entrance, I turned on the locking mechanism on my gun, and then set the power to 'full.' I took a chance, and hoped that he would use it. He did. And it hurt him. Real bad."

I brought my head back down from its lofty perch.

Ace ran over Moonie. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, yeah, just a bruised ego, but I'll be fine. My stomach has seen worse days." Moonie got up and began limping. His legs were in bad shape, but, miraculously, usable.

"Let's get you back to my ship. I'll go look for the others."

"Ace, I don't think he was lying. I heard explosions while I was trapped out there."

"I fear that Mumbles and Marv are gone. But, if you can retrieve their-"

"Consider it done. They deserve a proper burial."

"Ace, you saved my life. I can never repay you for that. But, now you are my second in command. And I think, by your actions today, you have proved your worth. As for you little robot, you are technically third in command now."

"Oh, boy, sir. I will do my best to make you proud." I was delighted.

"Ha ha. You are quite the robot," Mr. Moonie said. "Always glowing and flashing and making distracting noises."

"I do have a small request for the both of you," I said.

"What's that T.R.A.I.N.E.R.?" Ace asked with concern.

"I need my arms!"

"Well, isn't that something? I hadn't really noticed," Moonie said.

"You sure do T.R.A.I.N.E.R.," Ace said. "You sure do."

End

Scattered (Part 3)

2005-07-12T23:04:00.000-05:00

"Meeekraggh!" the creatures yelped.

The stench emanating from their jaws was putrid. It was akin to a cross between rotten milk and burning hair. Thankfully I have no throat, so its impossible for me to gag. The hoard was quickly toting me away down a side passageway. I could not bear the thought of what would happen next.

Before me lay a shoddily constructed cage. The creatures dropped me right side up with a thud and slammed the gate closed. They left me there and shuffle back down the passage. I looked around the cage and saw a few animal bones scattered around. Most were frozen into the ice, and looked like they had hastily been gnawed upon. I wondered what they were going to do to us. What would they do to Ace? Was Moonie still alive?

The cage was made of thick pieces of wood, tied together with various rags and scraps of metal. I looked desperately for a way out. The wooden slats jiggled slightly, but not enough that I could bust my way out. All I could do was wait.

After a couple of ours of silence, I heard a sharp zapping noise, and rushed to the gate of my cage, hoping to catch a glimpse of the commotion. I could see nothing.

"What is going on out there?.....Hello?" I said.

My question was met with a pained grunt. The zapping continued. 'They must be torturing Ace out there,' I thought to myself.

I had to get out. But how? The bars were thick and sturdy. I was short and less sturdy. Unfortunately I did not have my saw hand attached, or else it would have been "lumberjack time" for the wooden cage. I looked up and down at the pieces of metal holding the bars together. There was no way I could pry them apart. Even if I had fingers, it would have been nearly impossible.

But wait!

I opened my chest cabinet and dug around in there for a moment. It should still be right....here it is! My magnetic hand!

Within seconds I had swapped my normal clamp for the magnetic hand attachment. I went over to the metal strips wrapped around the bars and placed the magnet near the metal. The metal began to give way, but it was still a bit slow. I began to back up a bit and the magnetic pull started to peel the scrap metal more quickly now. Just a little bit...and one is off.

Within minutes I had removed six more pieces. Now I clamped a bar and tried pulling it out of place. It snapped with a satisfying crack. One more bar and I would have enough space to squeeze through.

I cleared the wooden bars away from the gate. I tried to fit through the small gap in the bars. It was no good. I was just a bit too stout. I backed up as far as I could to the opposite end of the cage and sped towards the opening.

Smashing!

I was through! But wait, I felt considerably lighter now. I felt a bit unbalanced after escaping the cage. I looked around to gather a clue.

It was my arm. I had knocked it off. No time to reattach it. I had to keep going. Ace's life depended on it.

I quickly rolled down the icy passage towards the large room where Ace was being kept. When I arrived, I was shocked at what I saw. The monsters were hurling small chunks of ice at Ace as he hung from the ceiling. Ace was still conscious, but badly bruised. He has a cut above his left eye, which was beginning to bleed profusely. His eye was barely opening because of all the blood pouring out from the wound.

The strange machine below him was still bubbling with acid. If I did not do something quickly, he would drop to doom as he flesh was melted. What a horrible way to go. I looked at Ace's hands, and they were bound behind him. There was no way he would escape without my help.

A couple of the creatures had spotted me. My glowing blue brain gave me away. They lumbered towards me, mouths drooling in anticipation of some heartless act. I had to think quick. I glanced around and could not think of anything. I only had one hand. It was hopeless.

"Oh dear, is this truly the end of T.R.A.I.N.E.R.?" I asked no one in particular.

As I turned my head to one of the monsters, I noticed a glint of light coming off of a small object. It was a ray gun. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to reach it in time.

Unless...My magnetic hand!

I pointed my hand in the direction of the ray gun and it started to wobble slightly. It came loose from its frozen perch and flew towards me.

Success!

I activated the eject mechanism on my hand and shot my arm towards Ace. It flew wide of him, but he managed to hook his finger onto my elbow. He worked my arm towards his other hand and got a slight grip on the gun. He shot the rope off of his hands and began to fall rapidly.

The monsters looked around in amazement. They did not know how to handle the situation. A few rushed me and began beating on my dome. Ace was almost done for, but managed to land both feet on the edges of the deadly contraption below him, just barely avoiding the acid within it. He rolled off to one side and spun to his feet.

"Sorry, boys, I was never much into science. I'm going to have to pass on your little experiment," Ace declared.

He stuck the gun behind his back and spun as he unleashed a fury of blaster shots towards the cave creatures. They growled in agony. I was so pleased I could have waved with glee, but for the lack of arms. Ace continued to take out more monsters. He grabbed onto a rope and swung across the room, kicking two of them in the mouth and blasting three more all at once.

Suddenly, a small army of the monsters came trudging down the far hallway towards us. Ace noticed it and ran over to the large bubbling mechanism. After a couple of tries, he successfully pushed it over and caked most of the floor in the acid, blocking off the hallway the monsters were coming out of.

"T.R.A.I.N.E.R.! Let's go!" Ace yelled.

I looked around the room.

"Now!" he demanded.

I wasted no time in following him out the entrance passage. We quickly made our way through the stark, cold hallway, hoping to see the light of day once more. We were almost there.

"At last, daylight ahead!" Ace exclaimed.

But then...

A figure appeared at the entrance. It was blocking our path, but all we could see was a silhouette. Ace covered his eyes with his hand to block out the light. I squinted.

"Ace Hawkins, this is as close as you will ever get to daylight again. The darkness calls you..." the figure whispered.

"What-?" Ace and I were both confused.

"By way of my gun. You will never leave this cave alive," the figure said.

Ace stood in alarm. The figure stepped out of the shadows as the reflections off the ice illuminated his sharp features.

Was it? Could it be? A traitor to the Astro Force?

"Or my name isn't Shift Higgins."

to be continued...

Scattered (Part 2)

2005-06-30T22:09:00.000-05:00

As I made my way out of the cave, I realized I was ill equipped for a rescue mission. Thankfully, I remembered there was an extra raygun in the ship. I tightened my left clamp around it and made my way onto the frozen path in front of the cave.

There was a thundering silence outside, which was a stark contrast to the mayhem that had just taken place within the last half hour. I did not have the slightest clue as to where to begin looking for Ace, but I chose the path closest to the ship. The mountain was steeped in snow, and I could barely plow myself forward. Snow was getting caught in my treads and my joints were beginning to freeze up. I tilted my eyes upwards, and caught sight of some thick black smoke about fifty yards overhead. Moonie could be dead by now for all I knew, but then again, so could Ace.

I pulled myself up to level ground and glanced around for evidence of Ace's whereabouts. There was nothing. I began to fear for the worst, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a footprint against the side of a nearby icy wall. Was it Ace's? I went in closer for inspection. I began to analyze the shape of the print, when, out of nowhere, I heard the screeching noise again. The same noise I heard right before Shift Higgins' ship went down.

I spun backwards in anticipation of something on the attack, but there was nothing there. I went back to scanning the footprint. It did not belong to Ace. It looked like it was from a boot of some sort, but significantly different markings than the standard issue Squad boot. I captured the image and continued up the path, now more worried than before. Who else was up here? I rolled up an incline for about ten minutes, and when I made it to the top, I saw the smoking ruins of Moonie's ship. The ship was still on fire in some spots. Firmly nestled into a snow drift, Moonie's ship was mostly obscured. When I rolled up the cockpit, I saw that the glass was shattered. A small smear of blood blurred the readout of the pilot's console.

A moaning sound came from about ten feet away from the snow bank.

"Is someone there?" I asked.

"Stay away from me! Go!" a voice yelled in agony.

I made my way to the source of all the commotion. It was Moonie. He looked awful.

"Oh...T.R.A.I.N.E.R., its you. I thought I was done for."

"Are you going to be ok?"

"I'll...I'll be ok..." he half whispered.

"Where is Ace?"

"They took him. They got him. I tried to...but they left."

Moonie's face was all scratched, and he had a large gash on his forehead. His hands were clutched to his chest.

"Are you badly injured?" I queried.

"Don't worry about it. I'm ok, I'm ok. Find Ace. They just knocked him out. He'll make it out of here."

"You will be ok. I will look after you. Did you see what hit your ship?"

"No, I...some kind of sonic weapon. I think."

"Interesting. A tightly focused beam of sound, targeted at our ships. Acting as a missile of some sort maybe."

"Yeah, could be. This group of, of savages got Ace. Went that way, up that hill, to the left. I heard their horrible cries. Demons they were! Big brown wooly fur. They're quick. Be careful. Take this sonic emitter. It helps scare them off." Moonie could barely breathe at this point.

"But you need this more than-"

"No. I don't. Go, you foolish robot! They already have a head start on you."

"Thank you. Take care of yourself. I will be back for you. I promise."

"I know."

And with great reluctance, I left him there, for now. Within minutes I had arrived at the top of the hill that Moonie directed me to. I saw a slim opening in the ice up ahead. It did not look like much, but I knew this must be the place. The opening at in the icy wall was slim, but deceptively so. It widened dramatically within a matter of about thirty feet. I moved slowly, not knowing what to expect. A cold, quiet wind blew through the crevice. If I had skin, I would have shivered.

A light appeared at the end of the crevice. It began to flicker rapidly. Muffled voices began to fill the space around me. I drew closer to the room at the end of the corridor.

Finally, I entered a large open space. Before me stood ten creatures, wrapped in thick wooly fur. They were huddled together around something. My treads made noise as I entered the space. A few of them turned around and glared at me. Large antennae stood out from the top of their heads. A thick, foamy substance coated their lips, slowly drooling from their faces. One of them began to growl at me.

I was outnumbered.

They left their huddle and began to spread out around me. At the same time, they revealed the prize that was in the middle of their huddle.

It was Ace. Poor Ace. Battered and bruised, his hands were bound and used as a hook for him to hang from the ceiling above a large glowing contraption. Some sort of acidic chemical bubbled over the sides of the machine, and came dangerously close to searing through Ace's boots.

The vile creatures took my gun and began to pick me up and carry me away, as Ace looked at me in despair. I could do nothing but sigh, and hope for a miracle.

To be continued...

Teaser

2005-06-28T12:43:00.000-05:00

Greetings!

Here is a short video preview of my adventures with Doran Cavalier. Enjoy!

Kid Cavalier teaser trailer

Scattered (Part 1)

2005-06-22T00:20:00.000-05:00

My existence had changed for the better. I was now in the service of an Astro pilot, and things would never be the same. Ace was stationed on Katara, a snow covered planet, at an old base just outside its capitol city Naris. The base was setup in an old fueling station set into the side of a mountain, with a spectacular view of the of the icy valley below us. I stayed with Mr. Hawkins in his quarters; a small but comfortable space, where I was given my own cabinet to stay in during downtime.

During week one of Ace's service, I decided to become acquainted with some other members of the Force. There was Shift Higgins, the brash hotshot pilot who was always showing off on missions. Charles "Mumbles" O'Grady, the quiet, yet highly skilled wingman of the group. There was also Marv "Pants" Grimmel, the gruff, yet gold hearted pilot, who mostly flew backup. He had a soft spot for Ace Hawkins. He took him under his wing and helped him adjust to the team. And finally, there was Nigel "Moonie" Mcguffin, the team leader, a hardened forty-one year old pro. I was never formally introduced to them, but I made it a point to weasel my way into their conversations.

On my third day at the base, Pants and Mcguffin were discussing the details of an upcoming training mission, and I slyly intervened.

Mcguffin told Pants, "So we take it down to level 6, but slow down the -"

"My name is T.R.A.I.N.E.R., thank you for asking," I proclaimed.

"Yeah, we know, you told us four times today," said Pants.

"I was making sure you would not forget. Repetition helps to cement the information in your brain. I also came up with a jingle that might help you. Ahem.

"T is for the time that I -"

"Thanks, that will be quite enough. I appreciate the introduction, but we have work to do right now," Mcguffin said.

"Nonsense. At least let me finish the first verse."

"That will be enough," Mcguffin said in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Oh..." I said dejectedly as I began to roll backwards out of the room.

I think I may have annoyed Pants and Moonie, but I thought it only the polite thing to do. Besides, I really thought I was on to something with the whole jingle bit.

At the beginning of week two, I went on my first official training flight with Ace. I was fitted snugly into the robot seat near the back of the fighter, about ten feet behind the cockpit. I surveyed the gadgets surrounding me on the dashboard, and quickly brought myself up to speed.

Our first flight was a local scouting run on a small mountain ridge about thirty miles west of our base. I was more than a bit nervous, seeing as how I had never navigated for anyone, much less the military. Oh dear, what was I to do?

"Hawkins, this is Mcguffin. Just follow our lead for now, but stay in formation. If we encounter anything, we need you right there."

"Sir, this is Hawkins, I read you loud and clear. Over."

"This is Moonie, Pants are you with us?" said Mcguffin.

"Sir, this is Pants. I read you. What are we here scouting out, sir?" Pants asked.

"Grimmel, I don't want to hear any fancypants questions while we're up in the air, okay?"

"Yes, sir" Grimmel replied.

We flew past the valley near our base and were making our way to the ridge, when all of a sudden there was a loud screeching sound.

"T.R.A.I.N.E.R., did you hear that?" Ace asked me.

"Yes, Ace."

"What was that? It sounded like it was coming from one of our fighters."

"Well, I think it was -"

At that moment, Shift Higgins ship started billowing smoke at a rapid rate. As it began smoking, so did it start to descend. Mcguffin brought us all into a tight formation and soon Higgins ship was about to smash into the side of a nearby mountain.

"Guys, a little help here! I, I'm hit or something. I don't know what's goin' on!" Higgins yelled.

Mcguffin tried to take control of the situation. "Calm down, we're trying to see wha-"

Crack! Mcguffin's right wing was hit. His ship started spiraling wildly out of control. At about this time, Higgins' ship was on its way, skidding down the side of a mountain, and finally becoming stuck in a narrow crevice.

"T.R.A.I.N.E.R.! Keep on eye on our radar, I'm takin' us down there," Ace said.

We were in descent towards the side of the mountain, when all of a sudden, Moonie's ship flew right over us and went crashing into the icy wall encasing the mountain. The tail of his ship caught on fire while the front became stuck in the ice.

The squad was under attack, and now we had lost two men. The remaining three of us landed on the mountain. Ace brought the ship into a cave on the northeast side of the mountain, safe inside from the elements. Ace jumped out of the cockpit and grabbed his survival pack and sidearm.

As he sprinted towards the edge of the cave, he called back to me. "Watch the ship. If I don't radio you within the hour, consider me lost."

If I was not a robot, I would have panicked right about then. But, with all my "life" experience, I knew I had to stay cool. Besides, I had no choice considering my location.

Time passed. Seconds into minutes, minutes into an hour. After about ninety minutes, I tried to radio Ace.

"Ace Hawkins, do you read me? Ace Hawkins, do you read me?"

"(Inaudible voice mixed with static) -omeone coming here. (static) two weapons (audio dropped) -ink I ca- -hem with my pistol," Ace's voice crackled.

"Ace? You are breaking up."

"Aaaghhh!........." Ace's transmission went dead.

It was well over an hour, and Ace could be considered lost. We were stranded on the side of a icy mountain, in the middle of nowhere. Two pilots were down, and the other two unaccounted for. I was a short slow robot sitting alone in a cave and there was only one thing I could do now.

Save him.

To be continued...

Ace

2005-06-19T12:33:00.000-05:00

So it all started when Ace Hawkins, renknowned fighter pilot, bought me from a scrap metal dealer. Somehow I ended up on a garbage barge two weeks prior, next to some translator robots who kept trying to teach me French. I told them that American English was encoded in my brain, but they just would not listen. I learned more about crepes and escargot than I ever wanted to know, although my art history knowledge has never been sharper. After a while, though, I began to tire. I needed the clunky simplicity of English. I had to endure these lessons for nearly two hours.

It was a long barge ride.

After we arrived at Trashheap Island, I began to worry. Was this really the end for T.R.A.I.N.E.R.?

Of course not.

Right as i was about to be tossed into a mountain of old paint cans, the garbage bargeman had a change of heart. He decided that I was worthy of his attention. Or, at the very least, my spare parts were worth something. He took me to Nick's Scraps and sold me for a sandwich and some libations. I was honored.

I sat in the corner of a dusty room filled with other treasures, not too different from myself. I quickly befriended a robot named TQ9, a real brute of a robot. A robotic boxer in his heyday, he had a bad set of wheels now. It seems depression had set in for him.

"Oh. My. This. Is. Truly. The. End." TQ9 uttered.

"Cheer up, it is not all that bad. You will be bought soon. I am quite sure of it. Someone will purchase you, fix you all up. Polish your metallic finish and get you back in the ring in no time," I said.

"If. Only. That. Were. True. Alas. I. Sense. That. You. Will. Be. Bought. Before. I. Will." said TQ9.

The next day, we robots were huddled inside, about thirty of us, in various stages of disrepair. We were all silent and heavy with anticipation. What would today bring? Would I still be here tomorrow?

At around 11 a.m., I heard some voices out in front of the main building. There was Nick, who was a gruff peddler in his late forties and what sounded like a young man inquiring about something. I heard the voices getting closer to the back junk room that the robots were kept in. I was overwhelmed with nervousness and excitement.

The door opened.

"And here are where are the robots are kept. Most of 'em are in pretty bad shape. Missing limbs. Busted eyes and wheels. There's a few gems in here though. Picked up a couple yesterday from a, um, fellow businessman. I think he works in waste management." Nick rambled.

A young man in his mid twenties entered the room behind Nick. He had a shock of red hair, and a curl that fell onto his forehead. Clean cut and looking to spend some dough. This could be a lucky day for one of us.

"What's this over here?" he said pointing to an old rusty culinary robot.

"That's CHEF3000. He's seen better days. But he can still toast just about anything in about an hour." Nick replied.

"Gee, that is something. But, I don't have that much bread to spend on robots. What I really need,right now, is a navigator robot. You see, I've been called to duty for my planet. I'm in the Astro Force," the kid said proudly.

Nick was impressed. "Well, now I have just the thing for you, son. I keep this one for the "special" customers. Like yourself."

He opened a wall compartment and pressed a white button. A piece of the wall rose up to reveal a side room with five pristine robots. Nick walked up to the one in the middle.

"This is the cream of the crop of navigators. Brand new, never been used. This one can't fail," Nick bragged.

"Well, if its never been used, than how do you know that it even works?" the young man queried.

Nick gave him an incredulous look and proceeded to start the robot up. Within seconds, smoke started billowing from the robots eyes. Nick was furious and kicked the little robot. It went flying across the room, wailing the entire time, and hit the opposite wall with a thud.

"Trying to pawn junk on me, eh?" the young man replied.

"Naw, that's not how it is. Here, uh, let me see what else I have for you..." Nick began scanning the room for something to satisfy the young pilot.

"Here," he said pointing at me. "This one, right here, now he don't look like much, but he's served space pirates and a few traders. He might be of use to you."

"Well...I'll give him a shot. But if he's junk like that one over there, you'll be getting a visit from me." The young buyer looked me right in the dome and said, "Name's Hawkins. Ace Hawkins. As you heard, I'm the newest member of the Astro Force, and I need a good navigator. Are you up to the challenge?"

"Well, sir, I can brew a fabulous cup of coffee for you!" I exclaimed.

"Ha ha. This robot's a riot! I think you'll work out just fine. Follow me, I'll show you to my ship. She's a model KL-29 Mercury fighter, right off the assembly line. Your frame is a bit bulky, but I think you'll fit inside." Ace said with a hint of uncertainty.

I was going to be a navigator! Hurrah! Now, if only I had the heart to tell him that I did not know the first thing about navigation.

Before I left, I had to say goodbye to someone.

"TQ9, I really wish it was you in my place right now. You deserve this more than me." I said to the slightly down-hearted robot.

"No. You. Deserve. It. Go. Now. Your. Destiny. Awaits...Oh. And. Drop. Me. A. Line. Sometime. Will. You?" TQ9 stuttered.

"Of course. Keep your chin up TQ. I am sure we will meet again. Well, goodbye for now."

Our adventures in the Astro Force were about to begin, and I was ill prepared. There was nothing left for me to do except start brewing some coffee.

I hope he likes decaf...

Gold in the Gutter

2005-06-06T22:10:00.000-05:00

So, after my bad experience at Papa Linguini's, the Italian restaurant, I was fired. Really, though, who could blame them? I had incited unrest in the waiting staff, and sent them all upon a path to destruction. Or, at the very least, broken jaws and missing teeth. Boxing tends to do that.

But,

For me, boxing had done something. It had lit a fire in my belly. No, not the pilot light. Something else. A passion, nay, a hunger for the sport. I had a thirst, and it begged to be quenched.

I was on the planet Atula at the time; hard on my luck, no job, rusty arms. The usual. I wandered the city streets, looking for something. I was not sure what.

And then.

I ran into something. It was large and felt like I had hit a moose. I looked down, and there it was. A a great big beanstalk of a man. He was lying against the side of a post office, trying desperately to sell stamps with his picture on them. As I made my way towards him, a police officer came by to shoo him off with a large broom.

The cop admonished him. "Move along. Your stamps are no good here."

"Bah!" said the large man as he began to gather his junk from the sidewalk.

"Hello! Can I take a look at your stamps, Mr....?" I called out to him.

"Name's Mcreedy. Darwood Mcreedy. Who, who are you?" The large man asked.

"My name is T.R.A.I.N.E.R. I am a boxing trainer. You look like you could be a beast in the ring."

"Well, I used to box, but that was a long time ago." He said with a sullen look on his face.

"Can I buy you a drink while we discuss it?"

"Buddy, you can buy me five drinks."

We went to a local pub, and sat in the corner, away from the riff raff. He told me about his history. Ten years ago he was the best boxer on the planet. Now, though, he was reduced to begging for his meals.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well, I had been champ for about a year, and was challenged to a fight with some punk from the south. He was great at pushin' my buttons, you know, ticking me off. I wanted to wipe the smirk off his ugly mug, so I took him up on his invite. Turns out he fought dirty, which wasn't a problem, except he fought even dirtier than most.

In the third round, he spit some kind of dust in my eyes, and got in a couple of cheap hits. I fell, and it was a humiliation. I lost the match, and it took months for my eyes to fully recover. By that point, I had fallen from grace in the boxing world, and there were new hotshots ready to take my place."

"That is terrible. I wish I could help you. In fact, I can help you. I have a few connections, its not much, but maybe I could get you back in the circuit. You know, up and fighting again," I said.

"No. I mean, I would love to, but I'm all washed up. I mean, what if I fail again. I don't know if I could handle it."

"Do not worry. We will have you in top form in a few months." I was ecstatic at the possibilities. I could be the trainer of a former champ!

"I, I guess it couldn't hurt. But, what do you know about boxing? You're just a robot."

"My friend, I used to work at an Italian restaurant," I said happily.

"Oh."

Over the next six weeks, I whipped Darwood into champion status. But, let us go back to that first week. I started him off with a brand new diet, consisting of raw eggs, onion slices, and steak. Lots of steak.

We started off slow with the exercises, what with him being a fat lazy hobo for the past nine years or so. This was painful for me to watch, yet even more painful for Mr. Mcreedy I am quite sure. If I threw a medicine ball to him, it would simply plunge itself into his meaty gut and send him to the floor with a thud. He did not quite understand the meaning of "movement" or "motivation." Though, I felt that, in time, he would not only learn it again, but live it. He would soon have boxing coursing through his 43 year old veins.

Darwood slowly began to learn that he needed to stretch his arms out when the medicine ball came towards him. This was key. You see, one cannot catch a ball without the outstretched arms. It is quite underrated. At least in the bum community. By week three, Darwood was up to the task of catching the medicine ball. Hooray! 'Those egg yolks must have some sort of mystical power,' I thought. Soon, we were moving onto weights, running, and spit polishing my dome. Darwood began to lose a little weight every week, his endurance was improving, and he was starting to lose that "hobo smell." Yes, things were starting to come together.

And then something happened.

One afternoon, I was down at Pete's Punchin' Pit, which is a local boxing gym in the capital city Aurus. There were the usual scrub kids, weighing 150 pounds, barely able to hurt a flea. There were your usual toughguys off to the side, flexing in the mirror, bragging about their successes to each other. Darwood was in the corner working on a bag when one of the tough mugs came up to him.

"Hey, didn't I see you on the street diggin' for garbage once?" said one musclehead.

"Maybe," Darwood replied.

"Well, we don't like bums in this gym, so take your gutter living behind out into the street where it belongs!"

"I, I'm --" Darwood fumbled.

"I bet you don't even know the first thing about boxing. What's wrong with your eye? Got some kind of lame twitch?" the lunkhead asked as he and his cohorts begin snickering.

"I'm.....ANGRY!" Darwood steamed. His eyes seemed to light up, and the man who was selling counterfeit stamps in the street two months ago, was now fuming. A word of caution:

Never mess with a crazy, angry hobo.

"Yauuggghhh!" Mcreedy wailed as he headbutted the fool who had taunted him. The fellow was taken by surprise, to say the least, and so was I. The flunkies tagging along with the guy stayed back and watched in awe. Darwood got into his famous "Perched Peacock" stance and let on go after another: left hook, right hook, left, left, uppercut! Time froze but for a moment as the tough guy's body flew up and backwards into a row of lockers. I was stunned. After all those weeks of training, it was the nine years of humiliation that brought out the best in Darwood.

Now, after that little scuffle, Darwood Mcreedy trained harder than he ever had in his entire life. After a couple of years of working out the kinks, he found his rhythm in the ring again. It was a site to behold. The "Perched Peacock" was back in full force. The whole planet was behind him. Quite the comeback story I must admit.

After Darwood regained his planetary title, he had one wish, one favor to ask of me.

"What do you want from me? What could I possibly give you that you could not give yourself?" I asked.

"I want my face on a stamp. For real this time. Can you do it?" Darwood asked. All the wealth in the world did not matter to him, just his picture on a real stamp. He would have been happy with just one stamp, for himself, to put in his scrapbook, but of course the whole world got them too.

Darwood made me proud. He fed that hunger for competition that I felt. It fueled me even more. I could not stop now. Boxing was in my circuits.

Thank goodness for hobos.

Round It Goes

2005-06-03T23:16:00.000-05:00

Good day!

Who would have thought, I, T.R.A.I.N.E.R., a simple robot, would have been mixed up in an incredible heist caper?

Anyone?

That is good, because I am not going to discuss that today. No, today I want to talk to you about something very near and dear to me.

Wheels!

What is that you say? Why are there wheels in the future? Well, to tell you the truth, they come in handy in a few instances. Overall, though, they are hardly ever seen. That is to say, seeing as how wheels went out of style during the Great Rubber Drought of 22 'Ought Nine, one would think wheels are a scarce commodity. And they are. The thing about wheels, is that they are basically obsolete these days in the 24th century. Now, I must admit, I am a bit partial to the old boys, seeing as how they help make up my tank treads. Call me old fashioned, but there is just something about hard rusty metal wheels that metal legs cannot live up to.

Regardless, these round slices of nirvana caused quite the stir during the "Drought of Ought" as some called it. At some point in my youth, I ran across a book detailing the event in some detail. And boy do I love details!

Now, this drought originated on planet earth, and was felt all across the galaxy, as earth was the primary rubber provider. Wood wheels had long since gone out of style, and rubber wheels or "tires" as they were once called, were all the rage for the flying-impaired vehicles. The amount of expansion and colonization on various planets near earth created a demand for rubber tires for cars, unicycles, and various military vehicles. Earth could not keep up. The near extinction of trees may have had something to do with it. No one is really sure.

Rubber tires were highly sought during the Drought of Ought. So in demand were they, that they for a short period of time, they were even used as a form of currency. This did not last but a day or so, after people realized they were a tad cumbersome. The period of tire searching ended in a couple of years, and people switched to flying vehicles. Tires were never to be seen again.

Until...

Twenty-seven years ago, while I was a translating robot for a gang of misfit produce traders, I ran across a tire in a pumpkin patch. How it got there, I do not know. As I went to inspect this antiquity, I spotted a runty looking man with a large curly mustache.

His name was Artie Pennington.

"Well, hello there mechanical friend!" he exclaimed as he stroked his curled facial hair.

"I say, do you see that? It looks like a regular vintage tire from an old-timey automobile!"

I replied with a firm yes. I kept one eye on the tire the whole time. Waiting and wishing he would move along so I could have a peek at the prize.

"A fellow could make a lot of wampum from a find like that," he said, while greedily eyeing the treasure. "Yes...a lot of ducats indeed."

I was starting to get annoyed. I was here first. I saw it first. The least he could do is leave me be.

"I suppose it would be rude of me to just take it, then wouldn't it? I mean, surely, there is a lot of boodle to be made from the tire. Any museum would love to have it, but the things I could do with that cabbage," He said slyly.

I was furious. How could he insinuate that he had the rights to this piece of history? It was mine to examine. I could hold my voice no longer.

"If anyone is making beans off of this wheel, it is going to be me," I stated loudly.

"Oh yeah, well you're nothing but a lousy robot grafter!" He shouted.

"You sir, are nothing but a loud mouthed ignoramus." I calmly exclaimed.

Artie dove at the tire while I quickly rolled myself towards it.

"It's mine!" Artie yelled.

By the time I had gotten to the tire, Artie had wrapped both arms tightly around it, with one arm looping through the middle of the tire. It seemed that my chances of retrieving this catch were nill.

But then,

I remembered that my heavy duty pumpkin clamps were screwed into my hand sockets. A plan was quickly brewing under my dome. My eyes darted around nervously for something, anything. And then it came to me.

Pumpkins!

I wheeled backwards and spotted a large ripened, orange pumpkin, and grabbed it by the stem. It weighed about forty pounds. How convenient. The pilferer would pay.

I wheeled forward towards Artie, who, at this point was already twenty yards ahead of me, darting daintily over the pumpkins in his way with the prize in his clutches, laughing madly the entire time. I wound up my right arm, with pumpkin in clamp, and sent it flying wobbily towards his head.

Thunk!

Artie had been whacked in the head, courtesy of T.R.A.I.N.E.R. He stopped, tire flying forward and rolling away, while his body slumped forward.

"It was almost mine. The sweetest reward." He spoke, before passing out momentarily.

"The sweetest reward, is seeing true justice served. Never take what is not yours." I said.

I moved forward and grabbed the tire. It was thick and rough around the edges. It was worn. The tire had obviously seen better days. Something about it though, the passing of time perhaps, had made it even more remarkable. I thought about selling the thing, but how could I? It just was not right. It was a relic.

To this day I still keep it with me on the Old Mongoose, reminding me of how I overcame the wily Artie Pennington. It is my badge of honor.

And I hung it on the wall with twine.

Goodnight!

A Word from Our Sponsor...

2005-05-28T01:09:00.000-05:00

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Its the least you can do.

Of the Sea (Part 2)

2005-05-24T00:31:00.000-05:00

"My leg!" said Charlie Turner, one of the crewmen. "I think its broken."

As I scanned the capsule, I could see a large jumble of bodies strewn about. I tried starting the ships engines, but it was all for naught. A few sputters is all the battered vessel could muster.

"Can anyone tell me where we are? Where we have landed?" asked Charlie.

"I, T.R.A.I.N.E.R. can tell you. We landed a couple of miles off the coast of a forested area. How far we have sunk though, I cannot say."

"How will we ever escape? If the water pressure doesn't kill us, the lack of oxygen surely will." said another man.

I agreed with him. I was many things, but waterproof was certainly not one of them. 'But how to escape?' I thought.

A few men started getting back on their feet and offering possible solutions. Eventually, this lead to bickering and soon, there was a roar of opinions echoing throughout the capsule. Some men's faces were so red with anger they were close to coming to blows with others. Other men sat quietly pondering their fate.

Suddenly, as if to arbitrate a deal between the sides, a loud THOOM resounded from the right side of the ship. Slowly the ship rocked back and forth precipitously on its rocky perch.

"Oh dear," I said.

The men stopped their fighting and joined in a sickened sort of awe at the sound outside the ship.

THOOM-CRACK came a sound from the right side. What could be making this horrible noise? The rocks beneath the ship were starting to crumble and give way to the ship's weight. The crew instinctively crouched down as far as they possibly could, in a vain hope of anchoring the spacecraft. THOOM-BOOM! Now, the left side was the target of the attacks. I peered over the edge of the front window to the left, and I spotted a dark figure. The silhouette it gave would have sent any sea-faring person running for the hills. The light surrounded its thick claws making it look like a massive lobster, yet it had six tentacles, similar to those of an Earth octopus, with a sharp fin on top of its massive body. What sort of creature could this be?

Then it stopped.

Once again there was silence. We could have breathed sighs of relief, but we knew better. "Its coming from the back! Get down!" screamed an elderly man.

I wished he was wrong.

The ship was lifted up quickly, in what was most likely the jaws of this massive creature. The creature swam upwards and sent us all reeling towards the back of the ship. Robot collided into man into man into steel wall. Bone slapped flesh into metal. Men grunted in pain. My brain slammed against two intersecting pipes. I was nearly knocked out of commission. Then, suddenly, there was light at the front of the ship. Things leveled out again. Bodies flew forward.

Then it let go. The ship was flung from the vile creature's jaw and was flying, albeit briefly, towards the shore. We hit the beach with a thud and the ship rolled over on itself half a dozen times before strikes a group of trees and coming to a stop. Charlie climbed over bodies to the door and pounded on it with a loose pipe until it gave way. The men poured out onto the sand and I clumsily slid out and fell onto my side.

In the next hour, we rested. A few men explored the surrounding area. They gathered a few wild fruits, or at least what we assumed to be fruits. The vast majority of the food was a fruit that resembled a watermelon, but had green seeds, blue innards, and a spotted skin, coated with a slight layer of fur.

"Men, I do not know if this be edible foodstuffs, but I say we try consuming it. What say you?" asked Charlie.

"Aye!" they exclaimed in unison.

"I agree!" I also exclaimed.

"My robot friend, do you think it possible to warm a few of these, so that we may be sure they are free of germs and bacteria?" Charlie asked.

"Well, is it anything like cooking potatoes?" I queried.

They all chuckled.

I pulled open the circuit board on my chest and proceeded to cook the "fuzz melons" as we began to call them. Within a few minutes they were done, and I was preparing to serve them when I turned to see the pirate men look at me in horror. I wondered what I had done this time. Then, I realized that they were in fact staring past me. I wheeled around to see what was going on and to my astonishment, there were wild creatures running towards us. They were a freakish version of bipedal humans, having large glassy eyes, gills instead of mouths, and crab claw hands. They snapped their claws together quickly when they ran, making a horrid clipping noise.

The pirates turned heel and began to run away towards the sea when out of the blue, two of the octopus lobster creatures began to emerge from the ocean. Now we were caught between crab men and octo-lobsters.

Oh, the ill will I felt towards these creatures.

The pirate men whipped out their ray guns and started taking down a few of the crab men, but the octo-lobsters would not be deterred. The laser shots they took only riled them up even more.

Now, the crab men were mostly incapacitated, but we still had problems. The Oct-lobsters were closing in on us. We had nowhere to run. Things were looking grim. And then-

"Raaaauggrrhh!" The beastly creatures were hit by spears. I turned to see a small army of human men running over the hill towards us, from the same direction the crab men came.

"Victory!" yelled one of them as he waved his people towards the ghastly sea creatures. "The day is ours!"

I was confused.

"What is going on?" one pirate yelled. "Good heavens, I know that man! Brother?!"

But, there was no time for reunions. The Octo-lobsters were still on the move. The ragged army of men continued to hit them with spears in their eyes, and others flung rocks into their eyes. After a few minutes of this barrage, the sea beasts began to slow down, and stumble back, and with a couple more hits to the eyes, they were spent. They collapsed within feet of each other.

The pirates and the army cheered in relief. After a bit of talking between the two sides, the pirates realized that the army was in fact a lost group of pirates held captive for over five years by these crab people. Fathers and sons, brothers and cousins, and one complete extended family was reunited. It was a joyous occasion. And, as it turns out, the captive pirates had the spare parts needed to repair my built-in radio. Within hours we had contacted a nearby pirate spacecraft. Help was on the way.

And what did we all learn after this extraordinary adventure?

Well, the pirates learned that there's nothing that can bring a family closer together then a life threatening battle with inconceivably large lobster monsters. And I learned that the pirates loved to eat baked Octo-lobster meat by the pound.

And I helped cook it!

The End

Of the Sea (Part 1)

2005-05-23T20:45:00.000-05:00

It was 10 a.m. and I had not yet finished rotating my gears and tightening my screws for the day. The day was on the cusp of a happening. A groggy stillness covered the air. At this time, I was into my fourth year of service to a space pirate name Greel Arn.

My job on his ship was to make sure the engine was in working condition, and, on occasion, fill in for the short order cook, Barnsey, a short, furry bearish looking alien from the planet of Lopear. Barnsey was out sick for the day, with a mild case of space flu, nothing fatal, but nothing to power down about either. I was more than happy to try my hand at cooking. It was a nice change of pace from watching the gears go round and round in the engine room. I was making my way down to the kitchen, when all of a sudden, a sharp blast shook the ship. All of the robots in the kitchen were in panic mode; lights flashing and alarms ringing. I did not know what to do. I made my way to the captain's quarters on the bottom floor, in hopes of finding out what the problem was. By the time I got there, he was gone. I spotted one of the crewman heading to the escape capsule and asked him what had happened.

"There's a blinking patrol ship out there. Fired a warning shot at us. The jig is up. Our racket is over. The captain took the first escape capsule for himself, and there's nary but 25 square feet in the last capsule to hold the rest of us. But I don't care. Whatever it takes to get off this thing. I'm not going to prison!" he exclaimed. And with that he was gone down the corridor to the capsule's entry.

There was no time to think, but myself being a robot, I do not need much time to compute a situation. The odds of freedom came out heavily on the side of escaping in the capsule, so I quickly rolled myself down the corridor. Crewmen were running as fast as they could to get a spot in the capsule. By the time I had arrived at the entrance, it seemed that the escape craft was full. Now, I was beginning to panic.

"There's no more room in here. Back away from the door!" one man said. "Hurry, close it," said another. I was dejected, and my thoughts quickly went to what it would be like in robot prison.

It did not sound pleasant.

"Hold on," one crewman said. "We need a robot to help guide the capsule to safety." The mob seemed to agree. Fortune was on my side!

"So, what kind of experience do you have?" one man asked.

"Well, I know how to reheat eight day old potatoes!" I cheerily exclaimed.

They chuckled. I was not sure why.

I made my way to the control panel at the front of the capsule, and began initiating our escape. There was a crowd of about ten men and three aliens in the capsule. Within seconds, the capsule detached itself from the main ship, and we were off. To where, I knew not.

I scanned the console's map and saw that we were within an hour's reach of the closest planet, Crinj. I consulted the mob about our destination, and they replied with a collective, "Aye." It was settled. Sanctuary would be ours. But of what sort?

After a few sing alongs and one somewhat scary story, the crew was beginning to tire of our cramped voyage, despite being relieved that we had all escaped. We began to close in on Crinj, and I prepared the ship for its descent into the atmosphere. I turned up the shields, and settled in for a rough landing. We reached the atmosphere, and the capsule started to speed up considerably. Clouds began rushing by the windows as the capsule cut through like a sword through silk. The crewmen braced themselves as best they could, and the ship began to rumble. The temperature rose dramatically, and we all began to feel a warming sensation emanating from the walls. The fins on the sides of the ship were so hot they began to glow.

Now, I could see the earth beginning to close in on us. As it rushed towards us, I began to pull back on the throttle, and after a while, the ship had barely slowed at all.

Now I hoped for the best.

I could see what looked to be a thick forest with colorful vegetation in front of us. I spotted a coast not far by and steered the ship towards. My amateurish steering had gotten the best of the capsule and the ship began to spin wildly towards a collision course with the planet's surface. Gravity was not our friend. Some men groaned. Others became ill.

All of a sudden, time stopped. The windows went dark. We all flew forward as the capsule plunged into the reddish water. The water helped to slow down the craft, and we eventually ran into what seemed to be a rock formation. I came to my senses, and realized that my dome was cracked. My brain stopped glowing. The ship was silent.

To be continued...

Greetings!

2005-05-16T18:49:00.000-05:00

I am T.R.A.I.N.E.R., the stout robot in the upper right hand of this "webpage." This is my "blog." You may be asking yourself, "Can just any robot get its own blog?"

Yes.
The answer is yes.

Now, let us get down to business. I am here to regale you with fascinating tales from the future. Stories that will astound! Anecdotes that will amaze! And it is all true. So sit back (if you are not already) and enjoy.

Now...

I suppose i should tell you a bit about myself. I am a R-O-B-O-T. Four and one half feet of pure scrap metal, glass, plastic, and about 3 ball bearings. I have a large dome on my head that not only serves to amaze the viewer, but also stores a wealth of information that I have collected over the years.

Now, as some of you may not know, I used to be a hot water heater. Yes, that is correct. I had the enviable task of warming water for a small italian restaurant once. Unfortunately, though, that kingly occupation had to come to an end at some point.

I now spend my days with the intergalactic boxer known as Doran Cavalier. He's a heck of a fighter and also a bit rough around the edges. I travel around the galaxy training him for various matches. Some of which he wins, many of which he loses. Now, at times, I may get my feathers ruffled over his shiftlessness, but, believe me, I do get treated well.

I sleep in a storage closet.

Well, thank you for reading! Until next time.