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RMS Humbug and
Chatterbox: Inkwell
RMS Humbug and
RMS Humbug and RMS Tiny Invite You To Their Maiden Voyages!
On September 22, a day that looks, smells, and tastes like any other day – which, for that matter, it probably is – an “ordinary” person much like yourself (maybe even yourself?) finds in the back of their cupboard a five-year-old mayonnaise jar. The nutrition facts label reads as follows:
Vitamin B12 – 2%
Vitamin Z564 – 26%
You, random but lucky person, are invited to the maiden voyages of the RMS Tiny and the RMS Humbug, two cruise ships belonging to the Ridiculous Management of Seagoers (RMS) Company! Isn't that awesome? It starts on October 10, so you have lots of time to pack! Isn't that even awesomer! And it's completely FREE*! Please RSVP by October 5. Anyone who wishes to join after October 5th but before October 10 has a lot less chance of making it onto the ship on time. Anyone attempting to board the ship after October 10 will find that the ship has already left, and I am afraid that under no circumstances can we pick up latecomers.
Cheesiness – 41%
Corniness - 22%
Good Old Random Humour – 5555555555%
Logic - (-111%)
Vitamin A+ - 4.67%
The person squints to read the fine print (the finest print they've ever seen) at the bottom of the label:
*This may or may not include certain expenses, including but not limited to: food, accommodation, extreme trauma counselors, staff, my new billion-dollar fridge, etc. NOTE: Some of these expenses may seem entirely unrelated to the subject at hand, but let me assure you that, when viewed from a holistic point of view, they are all completely necessary.
-Your Future Captain,
The Ominous
ANOTHER NOTE: Any complaints, questions, forwarded expenses, or wishes to sue may all be sent to John F.Q. and CaptainRead of the Cricket Chatterbox!
ANOTHER NOTE: We here at RMS Co. believe that there are two possible reasons why the Titanic sank. One is that it had such a huge, grand name that the sea serpents got angry and told the iceburgers to “let 'em have it broadside!”. Of course, as you all know, iceburgers don't have very good aim, so instead of “having it broadside”, the Titanic was rammed from the front, causing the deaths of millions. The other is that everyone thought it was unsinkable, and so we all jinxed it and of course it just had to sink after that. This is why we have built the RMS Tiny and the RMS Humbug. The former ship will be completely unsinkable because of its unassuming name, and the latter will be a test to see if we were right. The RMS Humbug has been equipped with all the sorts of things that superstitious sailors think contribute to the angering of sea serpents and the sinking of ships, and it will probably be sunk almost immediately.
AND ANOTHER NOTE: When everyone has boarded the RMS Tiny (no one will want to go on the RMS Humbug, we are certain), their names will inexplicably appear in Pandora's Fedora, owned by your captain, The Ominous (that's me!). A “murderer” will be drawn out of it, and the game will begin! From then on, those whose names are drawn out of Pandora's Fedora will “disappear”, unfortunate “victims” to the will of the hat.
YET ANOTHER TEDIOUS NOTE: This was inspired by T.O.N.'s Ski Lodge Murder Mysteries(TM), and we here at RMS Co. sincerely hope that it is different enough to avoid any copyright issues. To be sure of this, there is a rather severe plot twist that we can't tell you a single thing about. We will not use the Ski Lodge, nor any of the characters from it, and we will attempt to use our own style of writing, no matter how much we may be unconsciously influenced into doing otherwise because of the sheer awesomeness of the Ski Lodge. "Days" will be written whenever possible during the busy schedule of The Ominous, and you can hope to expect from one to three of them per week. Everyone who signs up may post their view of the "day," but please wait until you've read whatever The Ominous has written before doing so, and because of the severe yet unknowable plot twist, your memories will be wiped once you die, so there are unfortunately no ghosts. If you really want to, dreams or hallucinations are allowed.
The person snorts dismissively. “Some silly, outdated advertisement or conspiracy meant to get more people to eat mayonnaise! Well, it certainly didn't work very well...” They think, staring at the uneaten mayonnaise jar for a few seconds, and then throwing it over their shoulder into a garbage can and inadvertently causing a snowstorm in Italy.
DINGALING! DINGALING! The phone rings. You pick it up, wrenching your gaze from the scattered tea leaves in front of you that had just produced the story above. “Hello?”
“Good evening. This is Super Mayonnaise Incorporated, business partner with RMS Co. We have been looking through our records, and it has come to our inattention that the five-year-old mayonnaise jar you just now allegedly threw over your shoulder was never sold, stolen, or even brought into existence in the first place. It does not exist, and neither does your house, no matter how real it may appear. Furthermore, you do not exist. We deny everything, and have lawsuits in place to make sure you do not claim otherwise. In fact, I am talking to thin air right now, because you do not exist. Neither does your telephone. Goodbye, thin air, and thank you for your co-operation.”
Before you can speak, the line goes dead. Now thoroughly mystified, you decide to thwart reason and pack your bags to wherever it was that the ships were supposed to leave from. Not that there had been a location mentioned anywhere in the story your tea leaves just told you, but you still think you have an idea of where to go. You hope.
submitted by The Ominous, age unknown, mysterious
(September 22, 2014 - 7:25 pm)
(September 22, 2014 - 7:25 pm)
Top
(May 22, 2015 - 9:14 am)
I'm busy writing the next day. Please keep this alive!!!
(May 25, 2015 - 3:57 pm)
(May 25, 2015 - 5:22 pm)
(May 26, 2015 - 2:46 pm)
TOOOOPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(May 30, 2015 - 10:53 am)
TOP!!!!!!
(June 4, 2015 - 8:58 am)
TOP!
(June 10, 2015 - 9:58 am)
There may be a day when this thread dies, but today is not that day! TOOOOOP!
(June 10, 2015 - 10:05 am)
Nooooo! No no dying! I will top this thread every day and see it to the TOP!
Also, you are probably wondering about me charging in, because I wasn't even part of the CB when this started. The answer: I have read EVERY SINGLE POST! This is awesome!
(June 18, 2015 - 2:52 pm)
We here at RMS Co. thank you heartily
for topping this RP, even though you are not a passenger on our
lovely cruise ship. We look forward to having you as a passenger in
the next RMS Tiny cruise, if indeed there is one and you join it, of
course. We also wish to assure you that the two thermonuclear
missiles just now converging toward your place of residence are
probably harmless, and are either a complete coincidence, or merely
part of an extra-special service that The Secretary likes to send to
all our most “enthusiastic” clients
Good day,
The Ominous
P.S. Against all odds, there will soon
be time for me to write, so the next day should be delivered by
Monday!
(June 18, 2015 - 5:44 pm)
Wonderful. Two thermonuclear
(June 19, 2015 - 9:33 am)
*cheers* OKAY EVERYONE WE'RE GETTING ANOTHER DAY! Let's just keep this thing at the top til it comes!
*cartwheels backwards* T-O-P what does that spell? TOP!
*cartwheels forwards* T-O-P what does that spell? TOP!
(June 19, 2015 - 8:51 am)
The next day is finally ready! I'm excruciatingly sorry for leaving you hanging for so long, and excruciatingly happy that you awesome people still think that my writing/this story is good enough to be topped. I pledge to finish it, even if it takes me another 6 months! (Yes, we started this back in October. Wow.) Speaking of taking a long time, this day is quite long, so it's in 3 parts. You'll find out why it's so long sometime in the next two parts. Anyways, enough blathering. Enjoy! (I hope)
At the end of the world, stock markets boomed. They sold everything from apocalyptic t-shirts to paper bags that, once placed on one's head, were supposed to transport one to another universe. Hopefully another universe that wasn't ending at the same time. Typical humans, go shopping when there's a possible crisis!
- The Ominous
One morning, a renowned scientist woke up. He had had a very strange dream: the universe had blown up and aliens had taken over. Or was it the aliens first? The scientists couldn't remember. He turned on his super-special, ultra-sonic, laser-injected, high-definition, 3D television (scientists get a lot of money from the government so they can afford to buy electronic gadgets with features that will never be used) to find out the news. Slipping on his 3D glasses, he flipped to the news channel.
“Hello, this is Chuck, with Breaking News!” A smashing sound could be heard in the background.
“And there goes Camera 4! Now, for the Breaking News!”
SMASH! “And there goes Camera 6! Anyways, on to the News that keeps breaking the cameras!”
The word “NEWS!!!”, written in bright, friendly letters, filled the screen, blinking with bright colours. The scientist watched the NEWS!!! logo blink brightly for a whole five minutes, and then switched the channel.
A different logo, which also said “News!”, but with slightly less friendly letters, appeared on the scientist's screen. An announcer walked onto the set.
“Hello, this is Charles SchwartnEgger, with the news! Just in case you didn't see the “News!” logo a few seconds ago. Anyways, on to the news! A dream has taken the world by surprise. Last night, everyone in the world had the exact same dream! Even I had it! The dream was this: the world ended, and there were aliens. Strangely, no one remembers if the aliens were before or after the world ending. Oh, and this report just in says that there have also been some fuzzy details about fish, but we won't bother with that. Some experts say that this dream is nothing more than a hyped-up hallucination... but don't worry, others are certain that it is a warning of things to come, and foretells our certain doom!”
Suddenly, the scientist's screen went fuzzy, and he heard a scream from outside his door. Rushing outside, he saw that his next-door neighbour Margaret, who was usually a refined old lady who contributed to the old-lady stereotype by knitting all the time, was hyperventilating. And screaming. Another old lady patted Margaret on the shoulder. “Calm down Margaret, calm down! It's only the world ending, you know!”
“I know that, Beatrice, but I won't have time to finish my knitting project!”
“Oh, well in that case, we're doomed! The end is nigh!” Beatrice started screaming as well.
The scientist, who was rather bored, decided to scream too, and his other neighbour, looking out to see what all the commotion was about, saw the scientist screaming and decided that if someone as renowned as that scientist was screaming, it had to have been important, so he started screaming too. Within a few seconds, everyone else in the city was screaming. Within a few more seconds, the entire human population of the Earth was screaming. Boy, you humans have quite the social network! After a few hours things quieted down, and everyone went shopping.
Everyone seemed to believe that the dream they'd had of the universe ending foretold that the universe would end in the future, but, to your probable disappointment, I must reveal to you that it was only a dream of what had actually happened before, and that the universe will not end again in the near future. Hopefully.
Far, far away from the screaming in New York City and the other parts of civilized Earth, where every sensible TV-watcher worried about certain doom, above an uncharted section of the Atlantic Ocean, covered in snow and trapped in a dense drift of fog, flew the RMS Tiny (that's me!). Deep inside me, snuggled up in blankets and snoring like polar bears, lay the CBers.
Aldo lay snoring in his bed, with his blanket that was decorated with pictures of fruits tucked up over him. Glennis lay in her specially made ultra-clean hammock, fast asleep with the vacuum automatically cleaning me while she slept. George, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen aboard me. Perhaps he had an invisible suit on. I do not know, nor do I care.
What is more important is that one of the CBers was waking up. BookWizard opened her eyes, shot her hand out from beneath her blanket, and grabbed the Deluxe Edition of Sherlock Holmes' Adventures, her detective hat, and a large magnifying glass. Getting up, she pulled her detective hat low over her face and tucked the Sherlock Holmes book under her arm. BookWizard crept out the door and down the hallway, passing George's room on the way. Glennis had fixed the lights and only a few of the Keep Out signs remained. Disco music blared from out of his cabin. Good, George could be backup if she needed help. BookWizard got to the Wreck Room and looked around, checking that everything she needed (jumbo marshmallows, mayonnaise, Mountain Dew, a life-sized picture of Sherlock Holmes, lots of duct tape and string, and the secret ingredient, which is secret so I can't tell you what it is) was there. She was setting a trap for the murderer!
Once everything was ready, BookWizard concealed herself behind a sofa, waiting for the murderer to stumble into her trap. After a few minutes, she heard a scream. It had worked! She ran out from behind the sofa, ready to apprehend the murderer. “I've got you now!” She yelled. But, in fact, she had not got anyone. There was no one there to be caught!
A voice behind her said, “Actually, I have got you now.” BookWizard felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned around, trembling. “You! I knew it!”
“Actually, this is a prosthetic mask. So you didn't guess who I am.” The murderer took off the mask, to reveal her own face.
“Aha! I suspected you from the beginning, _____! Wait, why can't I say your name, ____?”
“I have deleted my name from your vocabulary so no one would guess it was me. Now, enough fooling around!” The murderer pulled out a long string of licorice from her pocket.
BookWizard laughed nervously. “Ha! How's a bit of licorice supposed to kill me!”
“Like this.” THWAP!
BookWizard gasped. The licorice was everywhere! In her mouth, around her wrists, covering her eyes. Everything went dark.
The sun rose jovially. Not just happily, but jovially! It had received quite a hefty paycheck the night before. Birds tweeted happily, suggesting that nothing untoward could have just happened. They were probably happy about their own paychecks. No, nothing bad at all could have possibly occurred earlier that day.
Masked Piester was asleep, dreaming of pies splatting those annoying dancing sugarplums that kept traipsing into her head. She opened her eyes. A thin beam of golden sunlight shone through her window, finally finding it's way through the fog that surrounded me. That beam of sun was annoyingly beautiful, and not mischievous at all. This made MP annoyed. Someone had to be mischievous that day, so if the sun wasn't, then she would.
The remaining CBers woke up with pies in their faces.
SPLAT! A pie filled with green powder hit Forrest. “Come on, what is it with me and green powder? This stuff will be the death of me!”
SPLAT! CaptainRead was hit by a pie that was so bland it didn't have a filling.
SPLAT! Winter Firefly was hit with a pie filled with ice.
SPLAT! A pie that looked exceedingly joyful hit Bookbug. It had also gotten a goodly paycheck recently.
SPLAT! Curio was hit by a pie filled with bananas.
SPLAT! Indigo received a blueberry pie in the face.
SPLAT! Everinne's pie was filled with cabbages, because MP had run out of other fillings.
BOOM! Madeline's pie exploded in the air.
“Rise and shine!” shouted MP. “Let's do something today!”
The other CBers groaned, but they all got up and followed MP down my hallways. MP flung open the door to the Wreck Room. “Let's make a me-! A meesss...” Her voice trailed off at the horror that she saw inside.
There, 20 feet in front of MP and the other CBers, was... nothing? Not even the tiniest piece of licorice. The entire Wreck Room was horribly, despicably, clean. Not a single random object cluttered the floor. Not the smallest dust bunny was hidden under the couches (which were the only things left in the room, and even they were arranged in perfectly ordered lines), nor was there even the tiniest hint of a wormhole in any of the numerous corners. It was ghastly!
MP stood there with her mouth open, unable to speak a word.
“Masked Piester? Are you okay?” asked Madeline.
“I think she's fainted!” declared Everrine.
Curio laughed, “Don't be silly, when people faint they fall down!”
THUD! Masked Piester crumpled to the ground.
Winter Firefly gasped. “Oh no! It's been too much of a shock for her! Bookbug, help me get her onto one of those horribly clean couches!"
“I'll go get Aldo! Maybe he can help!” said Indigo, who ran back the way they'd come.
Deep within the unconscious mind of MP, chained to a wall of darkness, Brookeira sat, exhausted by the tickling torture MP had given her. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. Then, she heard something. As if from a long way away, there was voice: “I think she's fainted!” “Don't be silly, when people faint they fall down!” Suddenly, while MP was unconscious, Brookeira sensed a way out.
END OF PART 1 of day 9 aboard the RMS Tiny. The next part shall be out sometime in the next two days!
(June 22, 2015 - 8:34 pm)
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! UP TO THE TOP YA GO!
(June 23, 2015 - 12:34 pm)
And, true to my word, here is Day 9, Part 2 of 3!
* * *
Brookeira sensed a way out.
On the couch, MP stirred. “She's waking up! Masked Piester, are you okay?” asked Everinne. Brookeira opened her eyes. “It's me, Brookeira. I'm back!”
Someone yelled, “Cue the Doctor Who music!” and the Butler dashed into the room and started playing dramatically.
Da da DAH da Da da-da Dah DAH! Da da DAH da Da da-da Dah DAH!
Suddenly, inexplicably, the CBers saw a swirling vortex, and flying through the vortex was a portapotty.
Da da DAH da Da da-da Dah DAH!
And there it was! The Doctor Who logo, and then, there on the horizon, the episode title flew into view!
DAY OF THE TWO MURDERS (An RMS Tiny Special, starring all remaining CBers and the fiftieth regeneration of The Ominous)
The vision stopped, and the CBers looked at each other. The Butler was gone, and there was no music. “Well, that was strange.” said Madeline.
“Oh well, it probably didn't mean anything,” said Brookeira.
“Well in that case, let's have an adventure!” Winter Firefly yelled.
“Okay, but can I lead it this time? I've never led an expedition before! And besides, MP/Brookeira have been getting too much attention because they're so mischievous and dramatic,” Bookbug said.
Brookeira jumped up, her cape billowing dramatically. “Alright then! Let us set out upon an adventure! We shall cross mountains! Ford rivers! Poke tiny hedgehogs with swords! And our tales of bravery shall be told in every pub, every bar, every tiny cafe serving chopped pineapples! We shall bravely go where no CBers have gone befo-- ”
“See what I mean!” Bookbug protested.
“Oh, sorry. I got a bit carried away there.” Brookeira's cape drooped sadly, having no heroic wind to billow in.
And so the CBers, with swords at their sides, set out upon their quest, to recover their lost homeland that had never been lost in the first place, and to slay a dragon. Or two. Or three, depending on how many they would bump into.
The CBers slung their provision sacks on their backs and trudged through the deep, dark woods that I had provided for them in one of my larger hallways.
“Hey look, a tiny hedgehog!” yelled Curio.
SWISH-CLANG-BOING! The CBers drew their swords, not noticing the strange sound effects, or that CaptainRead's sword was made of rubber.
“Prepare to die, you tiny, spiky, harmless, innocent, incredibly cute creature!” yelled Bookbug.
The hedgehog squealed in fright, and began running at an incredibly fast pace.
“After him!” The CBers charged after it.
In the excitement, no one noticed the names of the producers scrolling past.
Producer: The Ominous
Director: The Ominous
The Mysterious Woods: played by Mr. Mysterious Wood
And so on.
After a while, the hedgehog disappeared from sight, and the company of CBers began to tire.
“The sun is setting in the east, what say you about stopping for a rest among these lovely sycamore trees?” said Brookeira.
“They're actually oak trees, which are much more mysterious.” Forrest said.
“Never you mind. I am a wizard, a sage, a magician of great power, and the names do not concern such as me, for I have magic beyond measure!” Brookeira declared dramatically.
“And how is your magic going to get us out of this forest?” asked Everinne.
“I was not aware that we were planning on leaving. This is quite a comfortable forest, if you don't sit on any hedgehogs. Adventure lurks behind every tree!” Brookeira said.
Bookbug piped up, “But we're going to have to get out of this forest eventually! In case you haven't noticed, none of us have been keeping track of the way back!”
CaptainRead screamed, “Oh, woe is us! We shall never get out!”
Bookbug sighed. “Calm down everyone! I have no idea which way is what, but if any of you have ideas of how to get out, raise your hand.”
No one moved.
Forrest raised her hand. “I have no idea what's going on, but whatever happens, you have my axe!”
“And my bow!” said Madeline.
“And my sword!” Curio said.
“Why are you all pledging your weapons to me? You don't even have weapons!” Bookbug asked.
Madeline stuttered. “Well... um... they're invisible weapons?”
“This conversation is going nowhere! Zipply zonkly zoot, purple hedgehogs playing the lute!” yelled Winter Firefly.
A hedgehog jumped out of a tree and started playing a lute, and all the CBers fell asleep, except for Winter Firefly, who stood guard against any dangerous creatures that lurked within the woods. She did this from within the safety of a deluxe heated sleeping bag. With her eyes closed. And what did I do? I felt obligated to help out with the adventure the CBers seemed intent on doing, so I dimmed the lights, made a full moon soar across the hallway's ceiling, and played romantic music.
The next “morning”, Brookeira woke up when the rooster she was kissing crowed. She spat feathers out of her mouth, grabbed her staff, and jumped up. “We must away ere break of day, friends! Adventure is a thing best taken in the early morning, when you're too sleepy to notice being eaten by monsters! So come, my friends, let us continue!”
The other CBers snored loudly.
“Seriously? Why do you guys always have to ruin my awesome moments with the punchlines to sheep jokes?”Brookeira sat down on her sleeping bag and waited.
After an hour, the other CBers began to wake up. Brookeira jumped up. “Finally, you're awake! We must hurry, for the hour of adventure is nearly over!”
Madeline mumbled sleepily. “Are you sure the hour isn't already over?” She started to fall asleep again.
Brookeira pointed her staff at Madeline. “Oh, no you don't! You've already stopped me from giving about a dozen epic speeches, you owe it to me to stay awake for at least another hour of this adventure!”
Curio groaned. “But an hour's so long!”
“Alright then, 60 minutes.” Brookeira said.
Curio sighed. “Okay. Now, let's go poke some hedgehogs!”
The entire company cheered.
The CBers walked and walked and walked and walked. There were no hedgehogs to poke, and not even one dragon to slay, let alone two. And definitely, definitely not three dragons. So they kept walking. Finally, Brookeira saw a familiar-looking rooster. And beyond the rooster was something out in the distance.
Everinne yelled, “A tavern! We must ask the owner for lodging.”
“That's not a tavern, that's a shack!” Forrest exclaimed.
“Well, I'm sure it's just a tavern that's fallen on hard times. After all, there can't be too many customers in the RMS Tiny's corridors. Whatever it is, we shall ask the owner for food, and have our goodly breakfast there,” Winter Firefly said.
“Actually, it's more like lunchtime,” CaptainRead protested.
Bookbug sighed. “Whatever. We can probably eat there, so let us forge ahead on our path!”
In real time, it was actually closer to suppertime, but the CBers, labouring under the assumption that it was lunchtime, soon arrived at the tavern, and swaggered in, tired and hungry.
To their amazement, the tavern was jam-packed. There were customers with everything from long white beards to short red hair to strange-shaped scars to green, pointy ears. But one thing remained the same between all the customers. They all had... peculiar noses. Perhaps Aldo had got his hands on a duplicator machine. Or maybe not...
Anyways, the CBers pushed their way through the crowd to an empty table. They swaggered into their seats (because no hero is a proper hero without being able to pull off a good swagger, and the CBers needed practice). Almost immediately, a waiter appeared, limping on his one peg leg. Of course, his nose was very peculiar. “So, who might ye be, and what brings ye to the Jolly Pineapple?” asked the waiter as he tossed a pile of menus in the CBers general direction.
“The name is Bookbug Underhill, this is my company of CBers, and our business is our own,” said Bookbug.
“Oh sorry, I wasn't tryin' t'be nosy! It's just we've 'ad some awf'lly strange folks 'round 'ere. Tell me when ye're ready te order!” He swaggered off, and he swaggered very well for a man with a peg leg.
Forrest picked up a menu. “Ooh, they've got chocolate lava-lamps! And dragon burgers!”
“I think I'd prefer the rare, double-onion, vegetarian, dragon-fried, tomato-covered potato souffle with extra toppings and a side of anti-venom fries, poison hemlock soup, golden apples, and blue marzipan-flavoured ice cream,” said Winter Firefly. Or perhaps it was The Blaster...
The waiter appeared beside the CBers again. “Would ye be wantin' a salad wi' that? Or our special batter-fried haddock with parrot-shredded pineapples, personally shredded by Bessy here!” The parrot on his shoulder squawked loudly.
“Sure! I'll have both!” The Blaster grinned and licked her lips.
The waiter narrowed his eyes. “Are ye certain? Added up, that'll be 5 gazillion dubloons. Plus tax!”
* * *
And with that horrific cliff-hanger, DAY 9 PART 2 ENDS. The next part should be out sometime in the next two days!
(June 24, 2015 - 9:28 pm)