The Rip in the Fabric of the Universe ...

He rushed to the poop to tell the Captain the good news.

"Captain!" he cried.

Unfortunately for the scientist (whose name was Alfred Weinstein - leading to an enormous amount of confusion, none of which he understood), the poop was a tad crowded. Roger (VC and Bar) was there, of course, in command. However, Nemo, Crabtree and the Bosun's uncle were also there. Nemo and Crabtree, of course, were in possession of the appropriate commissions and both held the rank of Captain. The Bosun's uncle, another member of the Bastard family, had been given the name Captain at birth.

So, when poor old Weinstein said "Captain!" he was confronted with four people saying "Yes?"

Well actually what he got, reading from left to right was:-

"Yerss?" (A very nonchalant Roger (VC and Bar)).
"Quack?" (Nemo)
"Yoass? Muy Ay hoolp?" (Crabtree), and
"Who are you?" Uncle Captain, the Bastard.

Ignoring the distractions, he addressed Roger (VC and Bar):

"I've come up with a way of creating SLAKers!" he said.

"Oh good," quoth the nonchalant Roger (VC and Bar). "Just what we needed, more slackers. Go and tell Staines he'll only need to stand half-watches, Bosun. The scientist has found a means of making more people like him. Wonderful! We'll be able to get half the work done at twice the cost! This could be a revolution in maritime productivity!"

"No, you don't understand!" said Weinstein. "It's ....

a wonderful scientific break through!...The captains thoughts started to cloud over and he could see his dreams slipping away like vomit being flushed through the scuppers. He turned and yelled "Belay that last order, flog'em instead"..He turned to the now cringing scientist and roar ......

... but he was interrupted by Frontbottom.

"Now look here! I say!" Frontbottom was affronted.

"I'm affronted! Lieutenant Commander, it won't do! I mean really! It was bad enough that apalling oick Silver giving vent to his quite dreadful manners - and, in consequence, meeting his fate at the joint and several hands of Leading Artificer Groans and young Sponcracker's quite splendid androids (you should be congratulated Halfrit!) but, I mean to say..."

"Ahem!" coughed Roger (VC and Bar) - who was getting bored.

"I'm getting bored," he said. "Are you, at any time soon" - (he glanced meaningfully at his watch) - "going to come to the point?"

"Yes! You told Bosun Bastard here (unfortunate name - poor chap) you told him to flog someone. Won't do! Simply won't do. I mean to say, flogging was never a successful disciplinary tactic even during the Napoleonic Wars but now....!"

"Y'know," said Roger (VC and Bar). "You really are a prize pommy pillock at times, Frontbottom! When I told the Bosun here to flog 'em, I was instructing him to ....

...revive that fine naval tradition of rum, sodomy and the lash. As soon as Bosun Bastard has finished lashing Staines and the rest of the lower deck, I'll have him splice the main brace, take up the SLAK with some MFKL, and set sail for the sinful city of Sodom, where the crew may....

re-live their youth.Arr, the South Pacific Isles, sun, sand, women...

and a decent dose of the "Old Tropical Crutch Rot",(damd!, they don't make crutches like they used to), he mused to himself.

Just then the ships cook rushed onto the deck shouting something about "Run for yer perfetic lives, dinner's got loose in the galley an' it's bloody angry". The Captain's looked at each other and a blindman could read what they thought, "Not again!".
Able seaman Iris Farsight, the ships lookout, who was shortsighted, yelled from the Crowsnest "Faarrkk!!, an I wuz starvin' to!..what are we gonna' do now"....

...Mmmmm? ..... (yawn) ...... (stretch) ....... (fart!) .... "Wha...?"

"What day is it? ..... Thursday? ... Strewth! Must have fallen asleep."

The Very Little Gravitas Indeed had sailed on, regardless of the fact that for several days, her crew had again been totally inactive, slumbering in their usual comatose manner, all over her various decks and companionways. (Again! :rolleyes: )

Roger (VC and Bar) roused himself, glanced about him and determined that no-one else was yet awake, picked up his loudhailer and bawled:-

"D'YE HEAR THERE! THIS IS THE CAPTAIN! HANDS OFF COCKS - ON SOCKS! WAKEY, WAKEY - HANDS OFF SNAKEY! GERRUP YOU LAZY LUBBERS!"

The crew shook themselves and ...

let out a collective groan.

Groans of course was completely non-plussed by this.

"What'd they groan?" he asked of no-one in particular.

Just then, Major Frontbottom gave a startled cry because who should have appeared from the fo'csle but none other than.....

........the axe weilding bloody mongrel....

He stompted down the stairway, grumbling and growling and axe'a'swishing, a very, very disturbing sight!..He yelled " Gerrup' or I'll be cuttin' ya' down!"....The crew stood and ducked for cover, and the ships duck layed an egg, but no ordinary egg it was a ......

savage(Eric):)

...very different egg. An egg of unusual proportions and size. An egg which had about it a feeling unlike other eggs. And so it should.

For this was no ordinary egg! This was a hellish egg! An egg, indeed, from a place far removed from the mundane and pleasant surroundings of the good ship Very Little Gravitas Indeed! This egg was spawned in nether regions, cast about with appalling and fiendish miasmas and reeking with a sulphurous aura and glinting with a deathly pale light.

The crew recoiled in horror from the awful sight, struck dumb with a nameless terror. Even the axe-wielding bloody mongrel was cowed and hung his head.

"Whoops!" said the Mother Farcquar as she tripped on the top step of the companionway and accidentally kicked the egg clean over the taffrail.

She had been busily engaged below decks laundering her underwear - a Herculean task - and had entirely missed all the drama.

She looked about her at the crew, who were all agog at the way she had casually eliminated the egg.

They said: "We're all ...."

absolutely gobsmacked" !

For you see dear reader, it appeared that a major change in their dreary lives was afoot with the discovery of the egg. Yet, once again, the gargantuan form of one Mother Farquar had stolen it from them.

Now they would never know the meaning of the egg and what it portended for their futures.

They were alll standing around rather glum faced when suddenly a voice was heard on the poop.

"Carruthers of the Yard here" said the voice. "I believe that I can discern the meaning of the Mystery of the Dissapearing Egg"

"Is that right sunshine?" Inquired Roger (VC &c) "prey tell us how"

Carruthers of the Yard fixed him with a gimlet eye and said ....

"Are you Lt Commander Roger (VC and Bar) formerly known as Roger the Cabin Boy?"

"Well, yes." said Roger. "Although people are normally too polite to mention my former lowly rank."

"And can I assume, Lieutenant Commander, that the crew roll of this vessel also contains (ahem!) Master Bates and Seaman Staines?"

"Yerss...." said Roger (VC and Bar) with not a little hesitancy - for he was becoming not a little uncomfortable under the interrogation of this rather formidable member of the constabulary.

"There have been allegations made, Lt Commander, that the three of you served under Captain Pugwash!"

"Is that so?" said Roger (VC and Bar), suddenly becoming very guarded.

"But that's not true!" said Carruthers. "It's not true at all! Is it?"

"Just a moment!" said Frontbottom. "What on earth does this have to do with the disappearance of that frightening egg?"

"Well," said Carruthers. "You see ....."

"That ruddy duck had a similar experience on Pugwash's ship and all manner of strange going's on happend!". Curruthers face darkend, Oh! no it didn't it was the shadow of the jib sweeping across the deck, hmm! must have changed direction, anyway, "That duck an' its unholy egg brought about a series of events like you've never seen, wine turning to vinigar, drinkin water gettin' salty and the ships store of butter gettin' all rancid like". "But the strangest of all was when......"

Carruthers stopped waffling and was struck dumb. A change came over his Metropolitan Police features. His chin dropped and his mouth, beneath its regulation Metropolitan Police moustache, gaped - slack-jawed. His boggled and gobsmacked gaze was fixed on a point halfway along the maindeck.

The crew, as one, turned and looked.

They were confronted with a perplexing sight.

A person stood midway along the maindeck. He wore tight-fitting green kecks and dancing pumps. He seemed at first glance to be that upimself Irish hoofer, Moichael O'Flatulence - only recently drowned, they thought. But, if indeed this was he, he was a Moichael much changed. All the arrogance was still there but now, instead of that familiar self-satisfied, slightly fatuous cockiness, he had about him an air of dark and evil menace. Something about him there was that recalled recent events.

The egg! That was it! The horrible, evil egg! This manifestation of Moichael bore the same fell aura of menace as the egg that the Mother Farcquar had accidentally succeeded in booting into the 'oggin!

But how could this be?

Well ....

"He's going to tell, he's going to tell,
He's going to tell, he's going to tell."

The crew found themselves singing in unison. Drawn by some strange force that not one of them could control.

"Well, when you kicked me in the ocean, you all toit that I was dead,
I was swimming wit the fishies and not much to be said."

"He was swimming wit the fishies and not much to be said."

"Well, I held my breath for ever and my face was turning blue,
But I was tinking of the nasty naughty tings what I could do,
When I get back to the surface I could give you all a floggin',
It was then the evil egg fell down and 'it me on me noggin"

"It was then the evil egg fell down and 'it him on 'is noggin."

"And now, I'm going to do the most 'orrible tings, I am to be sure. Starting wiv...

"a performance of HMS Pinnafore!"

Scarcely had the words: "Oh no! Not that! Anything but that! Even the bloody Fete Worse Than Death! But not HMS Pinafore!"

Scarcely, as I said, had these words resounded throughout the ship when there was a terrible tearing sound. The Rip parted and the maindeck was suddenly filled with a bunch of dead-set nongs, dressed in ill-fitting nautical costumes, wearing exaggerated and badly applied stage make-up, prancing and strutting about whilst singing at the tops of their voices, as if in competition with each other. Various members of the cast were engaged in elbowing people, attempting to get 'upstage'.

"Oh no!" said Roger (VC and Bar). "It's even worse than I thought! It's a bloody amateur operatic society!"

With an evil, leering smirk Moichael said .....

"I am the very model of an Irish undead gentleman,
My carcass swarms with organisms animal and vegetable,
The egg that hit my noggin gives me powers of animation,
That I have not possessed since succumbing to asphyxiation ...

And the crew, gripped by an irresistible urge, a strange compulsion, sang:

"We'll need more than Occam's Razor if we're to find an explanation
Of this horrible, zombie'd undead Moichael-like manifestation ..."

Just then the captain's turned and said together "Oy! you lot!..That's enough, what do you think this is, the ruddy Sound of Music!...Now knock it off, an get back to the ruddy story!".....with that the crew mumbled and got back to the tasks at hand......But what of Moicheal, what became of the vile egg and did the cook finally get dinner under control, all these and more will be answered but first thing's first, what has become of the ships duck?........

Pondered John Ashcroft as he rummaged in the for'ard sail locker.

"Ah ha!" he exclaimed "that's what I was looking for. Now I'll be able to....

He was interrupted by a loud cry from the poop:

"D'ye hear there! This is the captain! John Ashcroft report immediately to the quarter deck!"

The quarter deck was suddenly filled with a whole bunch of blokes jostling and elbowing each other. You'd have thought they were an amateur operatic society.

"Which one of you lot is John Ashcroft?" said Bo'sun Bastard. He was amazed at the response as .....

... beyond all reckoning, every single one of them was John Ashcroft, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. "Hello," they said in unison, "I'm John Ashcroft, who wants to know?"

"I do", said the bosun, John Ashcroft Bastard. "I'm enquiring on behalf of the Captain, Roger John Ashcroft the former Cabin Boy, VC & Bar. He's trying to complete his family tree, which at the moment, is more like a family telegraph pole. He's discovered his mother is ...."

... about to reveal that her real name is Hermione John Ashcroft-Bastard. He is nervous about this because it seems to indicate not only that he may be related to me and my family, including Uncle Captain Bastard the ship's cook, but also that there may have been some inter-marrying in the family since his father's name was John Ashcroft."

"Well," said a bloke called John Ashcroft. "That's ...

funny because, (and here he started to sing to the tune of Winter Wonderland) Theres only one Johnny Ashcroft, there's only one Johnny Ashcroft"

"Hang on" interposed Groans, "what .....

... are you all doing here, anyway?"

"We came here to do the John Ashcroft version of HMS Pinnafore, starring John Ashcroft as himself."

"Well," said Bastard "there seem to be rather a lot of you. Are you all related?"

"Related? Why? What a strange question!" exclaimed John Ashcroft - no not him, the other one standing next to him and wearing the fez.

"Well, you're all John Ashcroft."

"Oh, yes I see, you're right. Hadn't really thought about it."

"Still, I suppose you get that all the time, do you?"

"No not really," said John Ashcroft, who seemed to be tiring of the conversation.

Just then ...

Groans interposed again (He had lowered his voice and was making surreptitious nod and wink gestures towards the maindeck)

"What about bloody Moichael and the cast of HMS Pinafore? He's still there, looking evil and tapping his foot!"

They looked. He was.

John Ashcroft strolled across to Moichael and said: "Is your name John Ashcroft?"

"WHAT!" yelled Moichael. "JOHN ...."

MOICHAEL O'FLATULANCE ASHCROFT IT IS TO BE SURE. HOW THE DEVIL DID YE KNOW?"

"Why are you shouting?" asked John Ashcroft. "I'm not deaf you know."

"Well" said O'Flatulence "it's because.....

"... I want to make sure that deaf bastard Groans hears me."

"WHAT!" said Bos'un Bastard. "Did he say that Groans is a Bastard, too?"

Groans, on the other hand, said: "What did ..."

... I do with my ear trumpet? Oh, there it is." Shoving the small end in his ear, he turned to Moichael Of The Flatulence and said "now, what were you calling my Mother?"

"I says your mother wears army boots, says I, and her mouth is so wide, she speaks in surround sound, so she does." With that, and an evil leering grin, O'Flatulence leapt over the skilliard, onto the port baffle board and executed a triple half pike over the side.

"Well," said John Ashcroft "that's a mighty strange turn of events. Would someone please explain to me what is going on around here?"

A ponderous person wearing a gendarme's uniform loomed into the foreground.

"Good moaning!" he said. "Proops ay cin hoolp. It sooms there er sooveral poople neemed Joan Ishcreft. This os cinfosing in etsoolf, if coorse. Huweever, add the fict that there ere a lit of Bustards prisent and the sityooition becoomes intoolerible!"

There was a moment or two of silence, best described thus:-

"!"

This was followed by a loud chorus from, reading from foc'sle to poop deck:

The cast of HMS Pinafore
John Ashcroft in his many and varied manifestations
Several assorted Bastards (including Uncle Captain the cook)
A bunch of Sponcracker's droids
The Mother Farcquar and
Leading Artificer Groans

They all said (in unison - well actually, they hadn't gone to the little-known lower-case town of unison, they were all still aboard the Very Little Gravitas Indeed but they spoke in unison, y'see.... er, ..... is that clear?) This is what they said:

"WHAT'D 'E SAY?!?"

So the ponderous person wearing a gendarme's uniform repeated the sratement for them
"Good moaning!" he said. "Proops ay cin hoolp. It sooms there er sooveral poople neemed Joan Ishcreft. This os cinfosing in etsoolf, if coorse. Huweever, add the fict that there ere a lit of Bustards prisent and the sityooition becoomes intoolerible!"
after which bosun Barstard said to no one in particular "Well no one in particular whats your view on these froggy types trying to speak english"

"Well, Bosun" replied No One Inparticular "it's not often anyone asks my opinion, but I'm glad you asked. You see, it just so happens that I am a keen observer of froggy matters relating to persons of doubtful parentage, and in this particular instance it seems to me that...

"Before you go on," interjected Sponcracker. "Before you go on, I think you're labouring under a misapproriation....what?.....oh, OK .... a miscegenation ....what?... Slartbast, stop poking me in the ribs! ...oh .... right, yeah, OK, got it. You seem to be labouring under a misapprehension (OK? Yeah? Good). Y'see, when you say persons of doubtful parentage, I assume you mean people who are illegitimate? Yeah? Right. People like, for example, say, Napoleon or Seaman Staines? But, y'see, when you refer in this way to the Bo'sun and the cook, well, you've got that wrong because they're a couple of proper Bastards!"

The Bo'sun, Uncle Captain the cook, Seaman Staines and a bloke called Napoleon from the amateur dramatic society all began to move in a purposeful manner towards Sponcracker. They had each managed to lay their hands upon a belaying pin.

Just then ....

... a noise was heard from the orange rooom.
... well not a noise, more like a wailing and sobbing that...

..that indicated the gerbil in the generator had "gave up the ghost" and the supply of electrons to the orange machine had ceased to operate. Once the wailing had stopped, the cursing started, "Damd gerbil sixth one this bit of timber", "Don't make gerbils like they used to", etc, etc....
The feeling of dred swept across the deck and the utterance of "Ohh! no", was the only thing to be heard between the cursing and cussing. For they knew what was next.....

Was the punctaution Pirates!

Yes. That's right. Some very grammar nasties had been lurking on the Very little Gravitas Indeed, and quite frankly, they'd had enough.

Clarissa turned to Chloe and said:

"Honestly Chloe, if I have to read another badly parsed sentence, I think I'll go spare".

"I know what you mean" sympathised Clarissa. "After all, how hard can it be to double space and format one's meaningless drivel?"

"Quite" said Chloe.

Meanwhile, on the Very Little Gravitas Indeed ....

... Sponcracker's droids disarmed his putative assailants. They were very polite to the Bo'sun, fairly short with the cook, bloody rough with Staines and they simply tossed Napoleon the amateur dramatist over the taffrail.

"Errk!" he said, before the foaming briny closed over his horsehair wig.

The chief droid handed Sponcracker a set of belaying pins along with some advice.

"Chief Droid Techo," the automaton said, in a disturbingly metallic pseudo-voice. "You should avoid using the word bastard."

"The droid's right, y'know." said Slartbast. "Because ....