The Rip in the Fabric of the Universe ...

he was battered sensless.

Ahem.

Sally turned the page, and lo and behold, what should be on the top of the page but the words:

Chapter Nine

"Ah ha" said Sally, "let's see who is going to start off the narrative."

It wasn't a dark and stormy night.

Actually, it was a fine spring morning. The Very Little Gravitas Indeed was sailing in a sprightly manner on a southerly course.

On the poop, Cap'n Long John and his pilot, Lt Commander Roger (VC and Bar) were sipping their morning coffee which had just been served by the cabin boy, Seaman Staines.

On the maindeck, the Hole In The Drawers Collective were entertaining the crew with an Irish jig.

Sponcracker turned to Slartbast and said:

"Not even that upimself Irish hoofer Moichael O'Flatulence could dance a better jig than this!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth when the Rip parted (with a highly appropriate farting noise) and who should appear but that upimself Irish hoofer Moichael O'Flatulence!

"Oh no?" quoth he. "Watch this!" And he proceeed to burn up the maindeck with a high speed clattering exhibition of terpsichorean show-offingness. He moved rapidly sideways across the deck. His feet were just a blur. At the very crescendo of his dance, knees pumping, chest heaving, supercilious smirk well to the fore, his descending heel connected with a belaying pin which just happened to roll towards him - from somewhere near Leading Artificer Groans, who happened to be looking in a different direction.

O'Flatulence's feet shot skywards and he disappeared over the taffrail. His loud cry of "ERRKK!" was abruptly cut off as the ship's wake closed over him.

The crew looked at one another and ...

breathed a collective sigh of relief, which was short lived because out of nowhere came an escapee from the extreme games who was riding his high tech wake board behind the sprightly Very Little Gravitas Indeed, he scooped Moichael up, performed a gnarly backside air followed by a fully sick re-entry and threw the amazed dancer back on the poop. The camera boat collected the would be hero and disappeared through the Rip.
The crew of our ship could only say...

BUGGER

"Looks like we're stuck with O'Flatulance"

However, just then....

.... Staines, heading up the companionway from the galley with a tray bearing the Cap'n's breakfast, tripped over a couple of companions and was hurled headlong across the poop deck.

His crusty old mariner's head collided with O'Flatulence's hip. The prancing Irish exhibitionist - whilst sopping wet from his brief sojourn in the 'oggin - was congratulating himself on his good fortune when Staines' rough personage caught him amidships and propelled him once more clean over the taffrail.

"Not aga.....! ERRRKKKK!!" said O'Flatulence.

There was a splash.

An Extreme Games wave-boarder materialised through the Rip! He headed towards O'Flatulence as he surfaced in the wake of the Very Little Gravitas Indeed!

Leading Artificer Groans - that very Ancient Mariner - hoisted his arquebus to his arthritic shoulder, sighted down its length and, mistaking the wave boarder for an albatross, blasted him from the sky with approximately half a kilo of mixed nuts, bolts, gravel and muesli!

"By the Lord Harry!" said Hieronymus Hamster. "This voyage gets more interesting by the minute!"

"Yerss," said Marmaduke. "But...."

"wait, there's more"

He was just about to expand on what this more was when suddenly the skipper, one Silver, LJ stared to shouted from the poop.

"Belay that ye scurvy dogs. The reason I've taken over this rotten scow, you sons of whores, is beacuse I mean to find Flint's treasure. I'll stand no more of you're nancy boy dancing and skiing! By god, you'll wear this ship a'right or you'll feel me lash"

"No, no, I'm sorry that just won't do" piped up Frontbottom. "I mean, you ruffian, just who do you think you are talking like that to one of Her Majesty's marines?"

Well, on the deck of the Very Little Gravitas Indeed, you could have heard a pin drop. Unless of course you were Groans in which case your response would be .......

... to re-load your arquebus with some of the muesli that Staines had spilt when executing his fortuitous half-gainer with pike and jettisoned Irish smartarse.

Groans shouldered his ancient firearm once more. Deaf to the controversy on the poop between the Royal Marine and the pirate, he was looking once more for a target when Sponcracker - in a moment of thoughtless exuberance - spun him around and said:

"I'll bet you heard that!"

The wide-open barrel of the arquebus described a hyperbolic parabola as Groans swung round. As the barrel reached approximately 42 degrees in the declining arc, Groans' fidgety forefinger clenched.

"BOOOM!" Followed almost immediately by "SPLATT!'

The muesli, a tasty admixture of wholesome grains and specially selected dried fruit, made a helluva mess of Long John. He looked like a badly pebble-dashed semi-detached, double-fronted buccaneer. His frockcoat was torn to shreds, his pantaloons were blown over the side (where they succeeded in finishing off poor old Moichael, who had just surfaced) and his head was a bloody and crusty disaster.

"To hell with it!" he said. "I'll ...

...give you ruffian me lad, now ye scurvy knaves, hoist the mainsail, scrub this muesli off me deck and face and get me some new clothes, something in chartreuse...I think. Yes, and a nice glass of chardonnay, Mr Staines please accompany me to my cabin.
The speechless crew suddenly found voice and said...

... in a development that was as peculiar as it was unexpected:

"We'd like to hear Sally's opinion on this!"

As the startled members of the vessel's wardroom were goggling at this unusual version of mutiny, Sponcracker switched on a phalanx of his droids which he had left standing alongside the port rail in a "Ready" state. They advanced in that impersonal and menacing way they have and surrounded the group on the poop.

Sponcracker explained:

"The crew are very concerned, Cap'n," he said. "They fear that copping a blast of muesli - however tasty and nutritious it may be - has upset your equilibrium. It seems to them - us - that your concern about the colour of your clothes, your sudden penchant for chardonnay and your distinctly suspicious request for Staines' company are all very unbuccaneer-like. The fact that you are also clearly in need of major emergency medical care means that they - we - feel that Sally's objective advice might be a good idea. Er, by the way, my droids will exterminate you without mercy if you don't agree to this."

Long John coughed, looked at the droids, the crew, the set of the main t'gallants (and in doing so, copped an eyeful of seagull guano in his good eye. His hook twitched and was instantly stilled by a compulsive gesture of his good hand). He said:-

"Unbuccaneer like!"
"Why you scurvy dog, I'll...

Sponcracker's droids exterminated him, as advertised, without mercy.

Three of them hoisted him onto a plank, tossed a Jolly Roger flag over his recumbent, muesli-encrusted form and slid him over the taffrail.

From sea-level there came a slightly watery cry of:-

"Hello up there! 'Tis meself! Moichael O'Flatu..."

Moichael, against all odds, had not succumbed to being assailed with Long John's muesli-blasted pantaloons and had surfaced again. Only, unfortunately for him, to be instantly impelled back below the surface when Long John's lifeless cadaver dropped plumb upon his expectant visage.

"ERRRKKK!" came the despairing cry of the thrice-disappointed terpsichorean as he once more was swallowed by the wake of the Very Little Gravitas Indeed.

--oOo--

"Well, children," said Sally. "Wasn't that sad? I wonder ....."

................'who will be the first crewmember to milk the cow that will be appearing soon?'
with that...........

"err...miss?" interrupted Billy, "I think the cow to which you refer is in fact a character of Douglas Adams' book 'The Restaurant at the end of the Universe' and therefore is protected by current copyright laws, apart from which it was a male and therefore unlikely to be milked by Billy Connolly or any other Irishman."
"By gad, you're right." exclaimed Sally "We can't possibly have any more reference to the intellectual property of Mr Adams. So children, who is now the ranking officer on board?"
"Why, miss, that'd be Roger."
Sally began reading
So Roger(vc and bar) gave his first order after reassuming command, albeit reluctantly. He was tempted to order a chardonnay, but under the circumstances, reconsidered. Instead, he said...

.....sometimes I wish people would read books right it was a very vocal pig '
with that Roger picked up his fork and picked up a peice of ham from the platter of.....

Tarquin was stung into action. He leapt to his feet.

"I've been stung into action!" he said. "Stung into action!" (He was an aspiring Labor politician and he had read somewhere that people are impressed if you frequently repeat yourself - this is crap advice but since when did a politician, aspiring or otherwise, have any clue about what real people think? ).

"Can we please move on from this fruitless debate over animals and find out what happens next? I think it's important - important - to press on with the narrative!"

He grasped the lapels of his school jacket, leaned back on his heels and was apparently about to continue with his harangue when, without warning, Daphne, the captain of the school hockey team, hit him in the face with a custard pie! She had meringued his harangue!

The hockey girls formed an impromptu chorus line and burst into song:-

"When he started his harangue, he was hit with a meringue!
"When he would have filibustered, he’s been busted with a custard!"
"When he ..."

Sally interrupted them. She was mortified. However, Sally was probably the most self-controlled person in this entire saga so she didn't mention her mortification. Instead, she stood and addressed the whole class:

"Sit down! All of you! Daphne - go and stand outside the principal's office! Tarquin - wipe that custard from your face and try to resist the temptation to make speeches. Now - once you have all settled down, I'll continue."

She opened the book.

Chapter 10

The Very Little Gravitas Indeed seemed to be travelling at warp speed across an unfamiliar galaxy ...