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91. In which I am charged

91. In which I am charged

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In his usual, crotchety manner Charles had no appreciation for my efforts to keep him alive. He did not appreciate the best friend I had blessed him with.

“Snippy, stop playing around with your gun and accept your friendship!” I admonished Charles.

Charles was busy stubbornly refusing to accept his new best friend, struggling against true companionship.

The Space-friend I had provided for Charles had traveled far and wide before arriving at our doorstep, I realized. That was the problem. It had lost all manner of class and gained all manner of excessive boobery during its space adventures, now wearing the Biomatrix 117 label.

“sInGuLaRiTy kNoWn aS CaPtAiN.” Biomatrix spoke, producing a three headed, antlery skeleton from its mass.

“wE HaVe cOnSuMeD MaNy tO FiNd yOu, SpArInG OnLy yOuR PrOpErTy.”

I frowned at the skeleton. It had no pants on.

“YoU ArE HeReBy cHaRgEd wItH MaSs dEsTrUcTiOn oF InVaDeRs uNiOn sTaRsHiP AnD UnAuThOrIsEd rEmOvAl oF GaRmEnTs. HoW Do yOu pLeAd?”

“I AM A NOT FOR PROFIT ORGANIZATION!” I declared loudly, bamboozling it for a few seconds.

"We HaVe nO TiME fOr ThEsE GaMeS." The Biomatrix commented.

"There's always time for games. Life is stressful as it is! Now, where are your pants, madam?" I asked.

My verbal attack did something to the organic multiplicity.

"Umrh," the three-headed skeleton looked down. "ChArles bUrned My pAnts away!"

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"Well put some pants on, than we can talk like civilized beings and not beasts," I said sternly.

“ThIs iS SeRiOuS BuSiNeSs. YoU ArE hereBy..”

“117? What happened to 116?” I interrupted the fleshy skeleton.

“116 ReMaInS On pLaNeT KuNzUhJaRn.” It answered. “wE ArE 117... the SeEd sEnt to EaRth.”

“Games? I’m getting strangled over here!” Charles whined.

“Charles, pick yourself up by your bootstraps! Biomatrix, you’re not here for me, you’re here for Charles!” I yelled, trying to clarify the situation.

"WhY MuSt yOu iNtErRuPt uS?" The skeleton pressed on. "YoUr cHaRgEs ArE nOt A lAuGhInG MaTtEr!"

“I hereby only accept the charges of being a goodly friendship-planner!” I waved my arms merrily.

I evaluated the multiplicity. It was 52.45% female now, after far and wide travels across many worlds.

"Why so glum, my dear? Did Snippy not provide you with sufficient hugs? Don't worry, he'll get used to you in time."

I had struck a nerve. The Biomatrix collective shuddered.

"yOu MaY bE SuBjEcT tO FiNeS aNd LiQuAdAtIoN!" She stipulated, angrily.

“Like kitty cats?" I asked.

"What?"

"Kitty cats can become a liquid at will," I clarified. Fighting back with my words was fun, but far more dangerous than fighting with my Wizarding implement.

The skeleton looked lost and confused, its multitude of minds trying to process my advanced jibber-jabber.

"I shan't accept your Space-University degree till you dress properly," I concluded. "All proper Goodly lawyers wear bow-ties and pants or skirts in your case as is tradition! Check your memories!"

The skeleton drooped her many heads. She wriggled her hands and looked down, thoroughly ashamed by her lack of proper attire.

Perhaps, for my final touch, I could make her feel jealous, by making a vigorous advance towards Snippy.

“NOW MR SNIPPY! GRAB MY BOOB!” I yelled.

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Charles failed to grab onto anything. The Biomatrix had almost completely let go of him, completely bamboozled by my actions.

“We’re so dead,” Snippy whimpered.

I stood there, waiting for him in my best "sexy adventurer" pose, looking quite like a boob.

Some plans take a bit of time to come into fruition, I assured myself. True friendship takes time to grow!