Pass the Salt

Pass the Salt

Another pointless S.F. story by Ryan Muirhead

Hi again! This is ment to be ironic, funny, and witty, (not in that order). So don't send me hate e-mails about how stupid it was. That means you! For enyone that read my last story, End of the War Crash of the Economy, this one takes place 10 standered space years before the downfall of the Met!nazzezezn civelization. Enjoy.

In the small star system of Bonyching, on a tiny Met!nazzezezn mining planet named Tuirf, in the fairly large city of Pa!ceenk, a small Met!nazzezezn salt farmer named Garnuk saved Tuirf, and perhaps the entire Met!nazzezezn salt empire, from destruction.

The Nutlin slug creatures were vile, evil, dirty, filthy, ill spirited, ugly, a mistake-of-evelution, and just plane bad. The Nutlins had a grudge against every species in the galaxy. The Tolosans, the Narinuknukians, the Lizard Thangs, even the Met!nazzezezn. Therefore, it would be their pleasure to destroy the Met!nazzezezn salt empire, what ever that was. They didn't even know what salt was! They just wanted it destroyed.

Garnuk was a good farmer. But not a happy farmer. Sure every so offing he'd go on an off world vacation to Met!azoo, or the Aasate asteroids, but other than that, his life was the definition of boredom. He would wake up in the morning at dawn, rub the sleep from his tired yellow eyes, go out to the fields, farm his salt crops, go back home to his small hut at the edge of the city, and went to sleep. It went on like that for ten universe standard years. Until...

One clear, crisp night, Garnuk looked up from the window of his hut at the starry sky.

"What's this?" he said aloud in his croaking Met!nazzezezn voice.

He hopped out of the window on his skinny green legs. The warm desert like climate of Tuirf allowed comfortable nights, so all he wore was his long nightshirt, which flapped slightly in the warm breeze.

He looked up at what must have been a meteor shower. Not that he thought it was a meteor. He had a good imagination. He imagined it was flying space monkeys coming to Tuirf to bestow the wisdom of the flying space monkeys on him. Met!nazzezezn imaginations are very different then human imaginations.

But this wasn't a meteor shower, let alone flying space monkeys. It was much worse... Not that a meteor shower or flying space monkeys are bad, but-you know what I mean...

France came out of Super-Hyper-Frantic-Speed just beyond the gravitational pull of Pulouk, Tuirf's signal moon. France's dirty hull sped passed Pulouk on it's coarse to Tuirf.

No, not the country France, the starship France. The Nutlins hadn't even heard about France when they named the ship, you see France is a very command name in the Balorgian Sector were Nutlin slug creatures are from. So don't get France and France mixed up. Now back to the story.

France was a Nutlin Planet Decimator starship, and the rest of the fleet was coming out of Super-Hyper-Frantic-Speed behind it. France's not so sleek frame silhouetted as it passed over Taolf, the sun of the star system of Bonyching. To its rear Canada, England, America and Dnaln fallowed its lead.

All those Nutlin Planet Decimators are in no way related to Earth. Expashily Dnaln.

Deep inside the mechanical intestines of France, General Lunic Kradinkof gave the order to decimate Tuirf. All five ships moved into position around the planet. Nutlin control officers sent their pudgy fingers flying over control panels.

This was the day that he, Lunic Kradinkof would destroy the Met!nazzezezn salt empire. Whatever that was.

Each ship lowered itself into the atmosphere of Tuirf, making great ribbons of flame grace across the sky. They stopped and hovered a few thousand feet above the surface of the planet, waiting for the order to fire. If this planet was destroyed, the Met!nazzezezn economy would be destroyed, for ever and ever.

The command to fire was received. An impossibly large hatch on the impossibly large hulls of the Nutlin Planet Decimator star ships opened. A photon beam shot out the hatches and hit the surface of the planet in a brilliant shower of light. The beams would first implode the core of the planet, and then the shockwaves would destroy the surface, turning the planet into gas and vapor.

Garnuk stood there watching. A photon beam had landed itself right in the middle of Pa!ceenk, and the citizens were scrambling to get out of the city. This had happened before. The Nutlins had destroyed a Met!nazzezezn planet called Yrossecca with Planet Decimators once and said it was an accident. Garnuk had seen it on the news. He knew exactly what was happening. He quickly forgot about flying space monkeys.

Then every thing started to rumble. The ground, the sky, Garnuk's hut, even Garnuk's clothes dryer. Note: The clothes dryer was already rumbling.

Garnuk's short green ears started to flap against his head. Ten universe standard years of farming salt for nothing!

"May as well have a last meal," he mumbled in the sudden brightness, and went into his hut. He noticed how messy his hut had became, and decided to clean it one last time before he was incinerated. He threw his Noop collection out the window, then sent his Nukinuk action figures fling. He wouldn't need his Fooosues Slippers were he was going, so he chucked them out the window, too. His CDs, his alarm clock, his signal flares, his comic book collection, all out the window. For once his Hut looked neat and tidy.

At that exact second, a young Nutlin technician aboard England noticed two red lights flashing on a monitor. It was a satellite view of Pa!ceenk and the area around it. He looked closer at the two flashing red lights. They were hard to make out because of the light radiating from the proton beam, but they were defiantly signal flares. They were signaling some thing, too. He knew what was being signaled. Gromork. Oh, no! Gromork! The most deadliest compound known to slug kind! And this planet was chalk full of the stuff! He started breathing heavily out of the nose on his forehead. In case you haven't noticed, in the Nutlintian language, gromork means salt.

"This planet, is full o' salt!" he quickly told his commander. Quickly for a slug creature, anyway. His commander speedily reached the France on the radio, and told one the commanders there about the salt. Speedily for a slug creature, anyway. The commander aboard the France fastly told General Lunic Kradinkof the news. Fastly for a slug creature, anyway. General Lunic Kradinkof hastily called a retreat. Hastily for a, ah, you get the picture.

The five Nutlin Planet Decimators spun around and started back to the Nutlin home world. The Nutlin Planet Decimators engine filters would not filter out salt vapor, so if Tuirf was vaporized, all the crew abroad the five ships would, well, melt.

Garnuk had unwitadly saved the Met!nazzezezn salt empire by throwing his junk onto his salt crops.

Garnuk went on to become the president of a large salt corporation.

General Lunic Kradinkof was later assassinated by a lizard assassin.

The flying space monkeys were never real, so they didn't go on to do any thing.

The young Nutlin technician was promoted to Nutlin President after saving the fleet of Nutlin Planet Decimators.

The End
Sit Bubu, SIT! Damn dog.

Copyright 1998 by Ryan Muirhead

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