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Version Fourteen - Legendary

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Anjoola's Website Short Stories Sally's Space Adventure
 

Sally, afraid that Johnny knows too much of her secret, escapes on a one-way flight to Pluto. Unfortunately, her flight is delayed for 241 years, and there is nothing she can do about it.

As we all can remember, the last time we met with Sally was when she was writing a vocab story for her World Lit class. Everyone in the class coveted an A on the assignment, but no one wanted one as much as Sally Mae Worthington Adam’s friend, Johnny. Johnny worked very hard on his vocab story, only to receive an F-. He asked his friend Sally how she got such a good grade on her assignment. The secret? A bribe for Ms. Ptelat. Johnny was shocked at the scandalous acts Sally committed, and promptly ran away screaming. Sally, ever vigilant for acts of betrayal, kept close tabs on Johnny to make sure he didn’t spill out her secrets. Thankfully, he didn’t, but Sally couldn’t stand the guilt. She packed her bags and bought a one-way ticket to Pluto. Our story continues from here…
 
Sally wrinkled her nose. A fetid smell was coming from somewhere on the spaceship. It was a terrible smell, like sewage, sweat, sweets, and swear words mixed together. She got up with a start. Where was she? Ah yes, on board the Starship Enterprise, on a one-way flight to Pluto. She gingerly poked her brain, carefully so she wouldn’t break any cells. A nerve lit up. AHA! The flight was delayed for 241 years because the ship could only fly left, and when it reached Pluto, the ship happened to be one day off to the left. The only solution was to wait until Pluto revolved around the sun again until it reached the ship.
 
Sally pressed a loudspeaker button by her cot, and said, “Oy! Scullery maid! Cook up some grub for me ‘coz I’m starving!” The passengers of the ship were all put into a deep coma and deep frozen in a refrigerator to keep their brains from rotting. Unfortunately, that meant that when they awoke, they would need to make up 241 years worth of current events for their history class. The captain of the ship died long ago, because no one could put him in a coma and freeze him, so he was left to die in a dark corner. It had been a terrible ordeal.
 
The maid had not arrived, because she died from being frozen too long. In fact, everyone but Sally died, because the air conditioner could not maintain its low temperature with its liquid-helium generator. Sally was lucky enough to be located right next to the generator, and was frozen before her brain died. When the AC stopped working, Sally was the last to awake, and awoke at just the right temperature. Now Sally was getting impatient, and in a surly mood. Furiously, she picked up a pagoda souvenir she brought from a temple in China, and threw it against the reinforced windows of the spaceship. The loud din caused by the echoes of the pagoda bouncing on people’s heads caused Sally’s brain to perk up.
 
She went in search of the cache where all the supplies were stored. Sally picked up a bottle of Target-brand cleaner and lumbered back heavily to the main chamber of the spaceship. Was she going to use the cleaner to freshen up the latrines with the 241-year old stool and urine? OF COURSE NOT! To pacify her racing heart and burning esophagus, she wrenched open the cap of the bottle and glugged it down. Sally became quite bawdy (for there was alcohol in the cleaner) and began spilling out words too inappropriate to be typed here.
 
Sighing with drunkenness, Sally walked to the window of the spaceship, and surveyed her celestial audience: the stars, comets, moons, dark energy, dark matter, quarks, atoms, molecules, gases, nebulae, and chickens. Wait! Chickens? Could there be chickens living in the atmosphere of Pluto? Sally buckled on an oxygen tank and brandished an arm she found on the floor. Who knew if the chickens were dangerous?
 
Slowly she undid the latch on the hatch. She jumped out the ship, and found a blue whip. The whip was owned by a blue flappin’ chicken. It looked like a ninja, that wanted to win. Sally splayed her arms in welcome. My was that dumb, she must’ve drank rum!
 
Sally was incredulous. There were actually ninja chickens in Pluto? Who could have thought of a crazier story?
 
“Vat al zyou doinvg hyeh in Dirvt?” blattered the chicken.
 
“Er… what?”
 
“ZYOU AL SVTANDINVG ON MI LAND! GYET OFF ZE PLANVET DIRVT!” blabbered the chicken.
 
Sally was sorely confused now. The chicken seemed to be communicating in English, but in a different dialect. It was saying something about the planet Dirt.
 
“VY AL ZYOU SVTILL HYEH? AL ZYOU A YAHOO FROM PLANVET MUD?” blannered the chicken.
 
“No, actually I’m from Earth.”
 
“Earth? AHAHAHAHAHA VAT A DUMB NAME!” blammered the chicken.
 
Sally, adept in the game of Arrrrrghew, had all the tricks up her sleeve. “How DARE you insult my dear planet Earth! Your planet, what was it called again? Soil? What a DUMB name!”
 
The chicken bladdered furiously, “DIRVT! DIRVT! ZAT IS VAT MI PLANVET IS CALLED!”
 
The verbal battle became an all-out melee, in which Sally used the arm she picked up as a weapon against the blue ninja chicken’s whip. They bonked and conked and tore and gored and whipped and hit and punched and kicked. They fought for hours and hours until the batteries ran out.
 
“@#$%!” swore Sally. She threw her handheld game system as far as she could, and it hit the captain of the spaceship.
 
“Who bonked my head? Quiet down there! I want utter and complete deference from my lowly passengers! You must all bow down to me! And YOU, you flamin’ GURL! Stop throwin’ nubs at me!”
 
“EXCUSE ME,” Sally shouted angrily, “may I go to the bathroom?” 
 
“Why sure you MAY!” said her neighbor, May B. Ivana Gohto deBafroom, glad that Sally’s need to relieve herself stopped and pacified her anger. Sally excused herself and stepped over the 7 other people blocking her from the aisle.
 
“Pardon me, pardon me. This is urgent, I really need to go!” Sally pardoned herself a million times until she reached the lavatory. As she relieved herself, an announcement came up: “Attention passengers. We have reached Pluto. Unfortunately, we are a year off its orbit, so we must wait another 241 years until Pluto comes around again! We are sorry for the delay, but we hope you understand. Please unbuckle your safety belts and head upstairs to first-class. We will initiate your coma and deep-freeze your body. Prepare to be scared. Have a terrible day!”
 
Sally was constipated.

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