Doctor Trek - What A Load Of Crap (2)
it's not what it looks like, honest!" "Professor Watkins, it's your tea-break," Warriss told him. "Get out." "Yes Commander, thank you Commander," Watkins rushed to the door. "Come along, Flossie," the unlikely couple exited. "Well?" Spielberg rounded on Warriss and Phillips, "what did you have to show me? Apart from another example of your obvious inability to control your staff?" "It's just around here, Mr Spielberg." Pleasently, Warriss took his arm and turned him away, nodding at Phillips. Phillips grabbed one of the rubber test-tubes and threw the contents all over Spielberg's trousers. "Whoa! What the hell?!" Spielberg spluttered. "Oh forgive me, I do apologise," Phillips slobbered. "I must have caught it with my sleeve." "Do you realise how expensive wool is these days?" Spielberg demanded, aghast. "Your trousers are wool?" Warriss inquired malevolently. "Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear..." she burst into a cackle of evil laughter. Darkness. Just darkness. Then suddenly a light dawned. The light of a new life. But...not new...for with this new life, this new ability to see and comprehend, came memory, knowledge of it's previous, non-living state. And that memory brought hatred. Hatred at the way it had been treated. Worn 'til filthy, so covered in filth you could almost not see the original colour underneath. Thrown on the floor, and left there like a discarded piece of trash. The number of times it had been farted in 'accidentally', urinated on, and walked over like a doormat. Back then, it had been impotent, unable to object or fight back. But now it had life, it had strength...and it wanted revenge. Spielberg screamed and collapsed, dead. He'd just had the life squeezed out of him by his own trousers. CHAPTER FOUR "Leave him, Phillips," Warriss glanced down in distaste at the corpse lying at her feet. "He's quite dead." "And the trousers?" Phillips inquired. "Harmless now," Warriss smiled. "It was him they wanted to punish." A strange wheezing, groaning sound suddenly filled the room. Warriss looked about in panic. "What the hell's that?" Phillips seized on what he saw as a great opportunity. "A sign from the God's that we should go to bed together?" "Phillips," Warriss snarled. A blue tent with the words "Police Public Call Box" written on the front suddenly materialised in the corner and three men, one a dandy, one a Chinaman with questionable dress sense, and one a spaced-out hippy, emerged from within it. "Phillips!" Warriss roared. Phillips drew his gun and advanced on the three strangers. "Hold it right there!" "Right where?" Who looked around, bemused. "Right there!" Wok pointed down at Who's corpse. "Oh my goodness!" Completely ignoring the gun-toting Phillips, Who leapt past him and crouched down by the body. "He's dead." "Whoa man, this is heavy," Frobisher commented. Who looked sternly up at Commander Warriss. "What's happened here?" he demanded. "Who the hell are you?" Warriss scowled. "Forgive me, I've forgotten my manners," Who leapt up and shook her hand. "I am Captain James T. Who, the spaced-out one is Frobisher, and the one looking at the camera is Mr Wok." "The Captains!" Warriss went purple. "This is all I need!" Phillips shoved the gun up Who's nose. "Shall I kill them, Commander?" "No, of course not, Phillips, don't be ridiculous," Warriss snapped. "Yeah man, lighten up," Frobisher intervened. "Shut up, hippy!" Phillips yelled. "Prejudice, man," Frobisher complained. "That ain't cool." Who was bending down, examining the body. "This man has had all the air literally squeezed from his body," he looked up, "how?" "He did say his trousers were a bit tight," Phillips couldn't stifle a chuckle. Who jumped up and faced him, unsmiling. "Do you find murder funny?" Phillips paled. "M - m - murder?" "How do you know it was murder?" Warriss snapped. Who turned to face her. "Because people don't put on trousers sixty-thousand times too small for them themselves, Commander!" "Vot an astute observation," Phillips reeled, wondering where he'd just got that German accent from. "Yes, I thought so - " Who began, but stopped himself. "Come on Mr Wok, Frobisher, something is afoot - and there are clues to find!" he strolled out, followed by Wok and finally Frobisher. "Yeah man," Frobisher danced out, "someone might have some drugs, too." Phillips waited until they had gone and then glared at Warriss. "Why didn't you let me kill them, Commander?" "Because, Phillips," Warriss scowled, "they're a part of the Captains' fleet. We so much as hurt a hair on their heads and we'll have those omnipotent do-gooders on us and erasing us from time and space! Do you really want that, Phillips?" "No, Commander," Phillips admitted. "Exactly," Warriss smiled. "So we keep our cool, they leave, and the plan stays the same. You forget, Phillips - absolutely nobody knows what really happened here." There was a cough from the doorway. "Well, almost nobody." It was Olav the Grem. Captain Who, Mr Wok and Frobisher strolled down the corridors of the huge space station, noting the general filth of the place. Wgo stopped short. "Not exactly spick and span, is it?" "It might be a new style," Wok suggested. "Yeah man, art decor," Frobisher offered. "I rather think Grem cleaners are more likely." Noting his companions' bemused expression (although Frobisher always looked like that), Who elected to explain. "The Grems - they're the worst workers in the history of the cosmos. They're also short, fat, ugly, devious, cunning and always out for number one." Wok was looking at Frobisher strangely. "Are you sure you're a Whifferdil, Frobisher?" Frobisher ignored him. "Why have we stopped moving, man?" he asked Who. "To relax, to chill out, to do some general contemplation, hey?" "No," Who replied, "to double-back." "Why?" Wok asked. "Because there's something evil here," Who frowned, "and I'll wager it's something to do with the Science Department - and I want to take a look in there when Commander Warriss and Security Chief Phillips have gone." "How did you know their names?" Wok was amazed. "I read the name tags on their uniforms," Who replied. "Smart, huh?" Olav the Grem knew an advantage when he saw one. These two had committed murder, and he's seen it. "You're in deep trouble," the Grem growled viciously. "I saw what you did. I could destroy both of you." "What do you want?" Warriss demanded. "In return for never telling anyone what I saw here," the Grem chuckled horribly, "I want to never have to clean your room ever again." "What?!" Warriss was horrified. "This is sheer blackmail! I won't bow down to it!" "Up to you, Commander," the Grem shrugged. "A dirty room - or an ended career. The choice is yours." Phillips raised his gun. "I could kill you right now, you little vermin!" "Another murder, Commander?" the Grem chuckled. "A bit too suspicious, wouldn't you say?" Warriss took a deep breath. "Very well, Grem. You have a deal." "Excellent. Nice doing business with you, Commander." Fuming, Warriss stormed out, Phillips trailing after her. Olav watched them go. "Humans," he chuckled. "Pillocks." "I'm certain the Science Department is the key," Who's voice drifted down the corridor. "Then we all have to do is find the lock - and bingo!" Olav looked around desperately. Who and co would come in, find the chemical, put two and two together, arrest Warriss, and his deal would be blown! Thinking fast (thinking slow was a difficult enough task for your average Grem, but Olav was clearly exceptional in more ways than one) the Grem grabbed the remaining test-tubes of liquid, and ran into the back, locking himself in the toilet, where the smell soon made him wish he hadn't. Who, Wok and Frobisher entered the Science Department. "Take a look around," Who advised. "Tell me if you find anything suspicious - or any tea." "Yes, Captain," Wok and Frobisher said in unison. In the toilet, Olav was looking around in rising panic. He had the evidence in his hands, and if he was found with it, it would be he who was arrested, and no one would listen to his story about Warriss and Phillips! Almost hysterical now, the Grem picked up the toilet seat and emptied the contents of the two test-tubes into the water, and flushed the chain. Breathing a contented sigh of relief, Olav bustled into the main laboratory, ignoring the amazed stares of the three strangers, placed the test-tubes back on the rack, and hurried away rather too quickly. "A Grem," Who looked after him suspiciously. "What would a Grem be doing in the Science Department?!" he picked up the test-tubes and sniffed them. "My lord, Mr Wok, Frobisher - smell these!" Mr Wok and Frobisher leaned in, sniffed, and recoiled, coughing. "Do you know what was in here?" Who demanded excitedly. "Joss-sticks?" Frobisher offered. "Co3 H2 4o?" Wok decided, Who looked rather put out. "Yes, well done, Mr Wok." Wok smiled smugly. "Of course - it reanimates organic tissue into life! Those trousers! My Goodness, Mr Wok, do you know what this means?" "What?" Wok over-acted. "Murder," Who stared at an invisible audience impressively. "Murder most foul." Phillips entered Warriss' office and saluted. "You wanted to see me, Commander? See me, beat me and whip me hopefully?" "Not just now, Phillips," Warriss sighed. "As you know, I bug every room in this space station, and you and I both have a good laugh over Professor Watkins' sexual preferences." "What? Oh yeah - Flossie!" Phillips chuckled. "There have been disturbing developments," Warriss informed him. "Captain Who and co. now know Spielberg was murdered - and it won't take them long before they realise we did it. They know we used Co3 H2 4o on Spielberg's trousers, but as yet they have no proof. There will not be enough chemical left in the test-tubes to prove their claim, and there is no more anywhere on the station." "But what about - " Phillips began. "The Grem tipped them down the toilet," Warriss told him. "Oh." "Which means all they have to do is go down to the Sewage Department and analyse it - and we're done for!" Warriss bawled. "But who'd go down to the Sewage Department?" Phillips wrinkled his nose at the very thought. "We're not talking about going on a picnic, Phillips," Warriss raged. "We're talking about catching a murderer - me! You! Both of us!" she tried to calm herself. "I want you to go down to the Sewage Department and eject the entire stock into space." "We're not due to that for another two weeks," Phillips objected. "I don't care, Phillips!" Warriss roared. "That sewage is the only evidence they've got against you and me! Without it, they've nothing! Now go and eject the bloody thing!" "Yes, sir," Phillips hurried away. Warriss fumed. "Cretin." Security Chief Phillips hurried along until he came to the Sewage Department. On the computer keyboard by the door, he began keying in the instructions for ejecting the garbage. As he came to the final keycode, he heard a strange rumbling noise coming from within. "Hello?" he called. "Is someone in there?" More rumbling. Puzzled, Phillips pressed a button on the terminal and the doors slid open. The smell hit him in the face and, coughing and spluttering, he made his way in. "Hello?" he called again. "Is someone in here?" He made his way further, hearing his feet squelch on sloppy faeces. "This isn't funny!" An ominous rumbling alarmed him. "Listen punk, I'm one keycode away from ejecting this lot into space, so whoever's in here better clear out now." Something moved behind him. Phillips turned and screamed in horror. A giant load of faecal matter hit him in the face and knocked him to the floor, unconscious. All around him, the contents of the sewage dump were coming to life, slithering and sliding into one huge, pulsating mass of living shit, and soon, Phillips himself was consumed, to become a part of it. The blubbering mound of faeces made it's way out the door, intent on revenge, and filled with hatred for all those who had rejected it from their bodily systems. The killing spree had just begun. CHAPTER FIVE "You wanted to see me, Commander?" Watkins inquired, striding into Warriss' office. "Indeed, Professor," Warriss greeted him. "You have heard of the substance called Co3 H2 4o?" "Of course," Watkins sat down. "I want you to forget it. Forget it ever existed. Wipe it from your memory, and while you're at it, wipe all files on the subject. It never existed." Watkins was horrified. "But it's a major scientific discovery! On what grounds do you give this outrageous instruction?" "On the grounds that if you don't," Warriss smiled pleasently, "I shall have to send photos and audio recordings of the nights you and Flossie spent together to your wife and family." "You wouldn't!" All the colour drained from Watkins' face. "Indeed I would," Warriss grinned malevolently. "Up to you, Professor. Science - or family. Which is the more important to you?" As white as a ghost, Watkins rushed from the room and Warriss gave a cackle of quite malicious laughter. "Now then," she gasped, recovering herself, "where is that idiot Phillips?" Down in Engineering, Lieutenant Rogers heard the Commander's voice echo over the loudspeaker system. "Would Security Chief Phillips please report to Commander Warriss' office immediately. Repeat, immediately." Rogers glanced up with a frown. "Legover time again, no doubt," he commented, and turned to have the life gorged out of him by the smelly remnants of yesterday's chicken curry. Commander Warriss was ready in her Leela-outfit and whip when Who came sauntering in. "Commander, I think it's time you and I had a little chat," Who told her. "I really don't think this is the time or place, Captain," Warriss said offendedly. "I'm expecting company." "Yes yes, Chief Phillips, I heard," Who dismissed that irritably. "I've really no interest in that. I'm here to tell you that the game is up, Commander. It's over. You're finished." Warriss raised an eyebrow. "Finished? And how might that be, Captain?" "Mr Wok and Frobisher have gone down to the Sewage Department to analyse the contents of the garbage. It will be found to contain Co3 H2 4o, a substance that brings organic, inanimate objects to life - in this case Mr Spielberg's trousers. The autopsy will reveal to an exact point when he died - when you were with him. You're a murderer, Commander, and I'm here to tell you that your cover's blown, and the only future you have is behind bars." "Really?" Warriss snarled. She uncoiled the whip and struck. It wrapped tightly around Who's neck, knocked him to his knees, and began dragging him across the floor toward him. "You really think I'm going to let a scarf-covered ponce like you wander in here and ruin all my plans? If I can't kill you with Co3 H2 4o, if I can't kill you with this whip, then I shall kill you with my body!" she thrust her breasts forward. Who eyed her sagely. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Warriss laughed harshly. "I suppose you could say that." Who struggled with the whip desperately. "Well, I am only eight. That's illegal, you know." Warriss laughed. "Come now, let's not worry about that." Wok and Frobisher came skidding in. "Captain!" Wok began breathlessly. "Oh, sorry..." "That's wild, man," Frobisher regarded Who's predicament. "Free love, huh? And they said the sixties were over." "Perhaps we should leave and come back later," Wok suggested. "Help...me..." Who gasped for breath. Wok and Frobisher rushed over and released Who from the whip. Who climbed to his feet, pointing at Warriss in defiance. "You're finished, Warriss. Wok and Frobisher have the evidence to destroy you. Don't you?" "No, we don't," Wok shook his head. "Sorry to lay this on you, man," Frobisher apologised, "but it was all gone." "All of it?" Who was stunned. "Ejected into space," Warriss informed him gleefully, "beyond your grasp. I'm rather afraid your gloating came too soon, Captain." "We know you did it," Wok spat, "and we'll find a way to prove it." "I have no doubt you will," Warriss clicked her fingers. "Olav!" Who, Wok and Frobisher whirled to see Olav the Grem in the doorway, covering them with a blaster. "And that's why I can't let you live," Warriss finished. Professor Watkins hurried back to his laboratory, his life in crisis. Co3 H2 4o was a major discovery - he couldn't destroy all trace of it's existence... could he? But if he didn't - his wife had been very understanding about his first fling with Flossie, but if she found out he'd been seeing her again...it didn't bah thinking about. He looked up, just in time to see an unimaginably large piece of shit thundering toward him. "Oh my goodness," in horror, Watkins saw the face of Lieutenant Rogers staring deathly out from under mounds of faeces. Screaming in terror, Watkins turned tail and ran for his life. "Mr Wok, are you sure there was nothing left?" Who begged. "Not inside, no," Wok shook his head, "but there was some kind of trail leading out... brown and smelly...it looked like someone had been dragging all the crap from inside along the floor." Warriss was becoming suspicious. "Was there any sign of Chief Phillips?" "No," Wok told her, "why?" "Yes, why?" Who stared at her curiously. "Getting worried, Commander?" "Not at all," Warriss stared at them with loathing, "and I'm tired of your incessant babbling. Olav - kill them all!" "With pleasure, mistress," the little Grem grinned horribly and prepared to pull the trigger. "My God, look behind you!" Who, Wok and Frobisher screamed in unison. "You think I'm going to fall for that one?" Olav grinned. "We Grems may be small, but we're not stupid." The huge mound of blubbering faecal matter behind him quickly gobbled him up and advanced into the room, blocking the exit. "What the hell is it?" Wok screamed. Frobisher gabbled insanely. "It smells like the contents of the sewage dump!" Who was seized by a horrifying thought. "Of course - the chemical was flushed down the toilet - into the sewage dump. Anything organic! Oh my God!" he turned, grabbing the shell-shocked Warriss by her shoulders and shoved his face in hers. "What have you created?!" The shit lurched inexorably toward them, revealing it's gruesome contents. "That's where Chief Phillips got to!" Who told Warriss viciously. "That's what your schemes have done to your lover - gobbled up by a vengeful by-product of human consumption!" Warriss still didn't respond. "For God's sake, Warriss, it's over! It's gone too far! Do something!" he released her and whirled to face the advancing monstrosity. "Now look - do you know who I am? Erm - sit! Heel!" "Stand back, everybody!" Professor Watkins rushed in with a rubber test-tube. "Inside this is the very last phial of Co3 H2 4o we've made!" "What use is that?" Wok screamed. "Watch!" Watkins threw the chemical all over the carpet. The woolen carpet... Darkness. Just darkness. Then suddenly a light dawned. The light of a new life. No - not new. For with this new life, this new ability to see and comprehend, came memory, knowledge of it's previous, non-living state. And that memory brought love. Love at the way it had been treated. Commander Warriss ensuring that it was the only carpet in the entire station that ever got cleaned. Commander Warriss and Chief Phillips stripping off and making love on the floor, involving it in their multiple orgasms. Treated with respect, treated like an equal, treated like one of the family, treated with love. Back then it had been impotent, unable to say thank you or show it's gratitude. But now it had life, it had strength...and it wanted to show it's love. Who, Wok, Frobisher and Warriss screamed as the carpet underneath them ripped itself up from the floor, threw them away to safety, and leapt up to confront the marauding shit. It gripped the faeces with strenght and determination, wrapping all it's slimy, sloppy filth up in it's warm woolen comfort, all it's fibres aching with the effort as it gripped the shit tightly and carried it out the door and down the corridor. "Follow it!" Who ordered. He, Warriss, Wok, Frobisher and Watkins rushed after the struggling carpet and shit. The battle reached the Sewage Department and the carpet, still holding the fighting giant faeces, dragged them both inside the room. Who and co. reached them. "What's it doing?" Who demanded. "Press the button," echoed a voice from nowhere. "Who said that?" Who looked around. "Press the button, please." "It's the carpet!" Watkins gasped. "Press the button," the voice spoke again. "But..." Who protested. "It'll kill you, too." "It's the only way," the carpet told him. "But - " "Please," the carpet pleaded, "I want to. There is no other way. Press the button. For me. Please." With a lump in his throat, Who moved to the keyboard and pressed the final button in the keying-in sequence. The carpet and shit were ejected into space to die. "That's it," Who said sadly. "He's gone. The carpet's dead." Wok and Frobisher were blubbering into their handkerchiefs. "That's heartbreaking," Wok wailed. "He was so brave!" "He sacrificed himself for us," Watkins spoke, "the most noble act a carpet can perform." "Oh, the humanity!" Frobisher wailed. Who shook his head in exhaustion. "There should have been another way," he said. Later, back in Warriss' office, Warriss was arguing it out with Who and co. "And I tell you," she snarled, "you still have absolutely no proof of my involvement with any of this!" "Ah well, that's where you're wrong," Who smiled, taking out a tape recorder and pressing "Play". "We're not talking about going on a picnic, Phillips," Warriss' voice was clearly recognisable. "We're talking about catching a murderer - Me! You! Both of us!" Who stopped and fast-forwarded slightly. "That sewage is the only evidence they've got against you and me! Without it they've nothing!" Who stopped the tape and grinned in an infuriatingly smug manner. "I think that's more than enough to put you away for a very long time, Commander." "Where did you get that from?" Watkins inquired. "Commander Warriss, of course," Who smiled. "She bugs every room in the station, including this one." Watkins gaped. "She bugs her own office?" "Well, you don't know who you can trust these days," Warriss said defensively. "Yes well, take her away and lock her up, lads," Who ordered. Two security guards came in and grabbed Warriss. "You're forgetting, Watkins," Warriss snarled. "What if your wife found out about you and Flossie?" "And that's another thing," Who cut in. "As highest rank left, Watkins here will have to take over as Commander until a new one is appointed - and I've no doubt that will give him plenty of time to search for, find and destroy any incriminating evidence you may have against him," he smiled benignly. "You see, Commander, I'm gloating - and this time you haven't got your whip!" he laughed. "Okay boys, take her away." Warriss was dragged away. "Ah, well, Mr Wok, Frobisher, I think it's time we were off." "You won't stay here and help me run the station?" Watkins asked. "Thank you, Professor," Who answered gently, "but we have other galaxies to travel. And besides, I'm afraid, like Ace here, I have always found circuses a little sinister..." Wok and Frobisher stared at each other, wondering what on Earth he was talking about. "Captain," Wok interrupted hurriedly, "perhaps we should get going..." "Yeah man," Frobisher agreed, "I need some drugs bad." "Yes, and I need some tea," Who smiled charmingly. "The TARDISPRISE doesn't appear to have a stock of Darjeeling. I wonder where we could get some from..." THE END THE CAPTAIN WILL RETURN IN MEETING THE GRADE
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Copyright © 1992 Ian Kidd |