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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)
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(December 2, 2014 - 5:36 pm)
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(December 3, 2014 - 9:13 pm)
It had taken far too long for the spotted rhinocerous to come along and distract me from the novel, but when it did, I found myself alone. The dining hall was dead silent, and the remains of a horrible food fight lay on the ground. Somewhere in the distance I heard a large amount of high-pitched screaming and splat sounds, so I bounded to my feet and into the hall. It seemed I had read far through the night and into another day.
As I walked quickly down the hallway (I always walk quickly) the screaming and squealing got louder. It sounded as though the other CBers were having an enormous amount of fun without me, and I was feeling very dejected. I sped up, eager to take part in the fun.
Suddenly, I turned a corner to see an unripe cantaloupe smash into the side of Air's head and fall to the ground. Air collapsed, lifeless, and I turned back around and dry heaved. Then I made sure I really had witnessed a death, and felt so ill that I didn't bother going to the wailing and mourning lessons. Instead, I ran into the nearest CBer's room and hid under the light fixture n the ceiling. (The rooms are upside down, if you forgot.)
(December 4, 2014 - 3:52 pm)
This is a dream to you, Book Wizard:
I apologize for any trauma my untimely and extremely violent canteloupe-related death has caused you. I will recommend the wailing/mourning lessons -- they are very...entertaining and will help your mental health. (However, since we all agreed to come onboard -- which was a bad decision on my part -- I think our mental healths may be unsalvageable.
)
(December 7, 2014 - 11:00 pm)
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(December 12, 2014 - 8:12 am)
Come on, come on, lift up...!
(December 12, 2014 - 9:57 pm)
~Curio~
Air is gone. I suppose I'll have to get used to that, but it's hard, even on the Tiny where everything is illogical, distracting, and hilarious. Air's death may be the one thing so far that was not funny to whoever is recording this for posterity. If there even is anyone recording this for posterity. I return to my room, more than a bit shaken (both by Air's murder and by the unexpected test of an earthquake machine), to find BookWizard sobbing softly underneath my light fixture. It has decided to be a Louis XIV chandelier today, complete with real candles, which is why BookWizard's hair is looking a little singed. I crawl underneath myself, consoling her and offering her a cup of hot Earl Gray tea.
Three cheers if you get the reference!!!!
(December 14, 2014 - 5:24 pm)
Fandora's Pedora – wait, that's not right. Fedora's Pandora! Botheration, that's wrong too. Um . . . Gobbledygookbingbangbongblagobbledygook! Okay, one more time.
Pandora's Fedora has struck again! Much better. Now, to continue the story! Who is today's victim? Who is the murderer? Where is my breakfast? All these questions! Will the answers ever be revealed? MWAHAHAHA!!!!
Oops, I meant to say: what a lovely day it is today! Nothing but pink unicorns and bright fluffy rainbows! No evildoers lurking up my sleeves, I can assure you! Everything is happy in Ba-Boo Land!
-The Ominous
"It was a dark and stormy...um....early afternoon. The unsuspecting CBers were on a ghost hunt! They snuck through the dark corridors, whispering quietly to each other and blinding each other every other minute with their flashlights. Suddenly, they heard a loud creaking noise, right behind them. They all whirled around, and there it was!"
Amy paused for a minute to add dramatic effect. The other CBers leaned forward, the flames of the campfire casting strange shadows on their faces. The fire popped and crackled, burning through another layer of my delicate wood flooring, and browning the banana-flavoured marshmallows that they were roasting over the fire.
"Go on! What did they see?" Maplesyrup asked eagerly, nibbling on a pancake covered with marshmallows.
Amy frowned. "Let me think!" A loud creak sounded from down the hallway. Amy continued. "There it was, shrouded in darkness and silhouetted against the bright, ghostly light that glowed through the doorway. It was--"
The door swung open with a bang. There it was, shrouded in darkness and silhouetted against the bright, ghostly light that glowed through the doorway. It stepped forward into the light.
"Hello darlings! Would anyone like some roasted prunes?" An old lady hobbled into the light of the campfire, smiling jovially.
Everyone gasped in astonishment, and BookWizard almost fainted.
"W-who are y-you!" Everinne finally managed to stammer out. "A-and what d-do you want? You nearly scared us half t-to death!"
The old lady frowned. "You want a ref? What are you doing, playing hockey?"
Let's back up a little bit, and I'll tell you how the CBers came to be roasting banana-flavoured marshmallows around a campfire that was beginning to burn me so much that I was contemplating dumping a bucket of water on it labelled "Fires Cause Ships Pain, You Know!" Anyways, courtesy of Yours Truly, all the lights had turned off at once. The CBers had been telling scary stories to each other all morning, and it was finally Amy's turn. Then the old lady came in, and...I'll just continue from there.
"No, you nearly scared us half to death!" Magic Dragon said slowly, loudly enounciating every word.
"Oh. I see! I'm Beatrice. Uh, what's death? I forget a lot of things, you know." The old lady looked puzzled, but still grinned kindly at the CBers. Suddenly, she shrieked and jumped almost out of her old shoes. Then she quickly hobbled back out the door, giggling maniacally in fear.
The CBers looked at each other nervously. "What scared her?" Book Wizard asked, to no one in particular.
No one knew the answer.
"Maybe she's just crazy?" Brookeira suggested, after an awkward, scared silence.
Bookbug suddenly started singing to the tune of the Ghostbusters song, "When's there's something deranged! On the nice cruise ship! Who ya gonna call? 911!"
"Good idea! I'll just go see if Aldo has a phone we can steal!" Indigo ran off.
Captainread reached into her pocket and pulled out the banana that Bookbug had been holding when she'd appeared the very first day. "I wonder if this thing makes phone calls, as well as pretending to be a gun?" She punched in random numbers on the banana-machine, and suddenly it began ringing. A metallic voice rang out of the banana. "This is 911! What is the stasis of your emergency? Would you like a firetruck, an ambulance, or a police helicopter? Or maybe you'd like our new, antique, double-ended vase! Going once, going twice, BRIIING! The double-ended vase was sold to the two-headed president of the galaxy for 24 crumpets!"
Indigo ran in, yelling, "Everyone! The old lady's in the kitchen! She's got Aldo's phone and she's calling 911 herself!"
Cheesy music was playing out of the banana-machine, and suddenly Beatrice's wavery voice came up, sounding tinny through the banana-machine. "I'd like to bid five-thousand cantaloupes on the helicopter, please!"
The metallic sales-man's voice replied, "Anyone else going to bid more than five-thousand cantaloupes on this a-maz-ing police helicopter? No one? Going once, going twice, BRIING! Sold to an old lady somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean!"
Danie gasped dramatically. "We're in the Atlantic? I thought this was a Mediterannean cruise! At the very least, we can't be further north than the Pacific!"
Madeline grinned. "Oh, the horror! How could you have been so wrong!"
"Let's go get that old lady!" yelled Forrest.
"I don't think this is the right time to go old-lady hunting! Let's go ghost-hunting instead!" said John F.Q.
"It is too the right time! This is the only time that there's gonna be an old lady on this ship anyways, so it's the only time to go old-lady hunting!"
"No it isn't!"
"Yes it is!"
"Okay, NOW it's the right time. Let's go get her!"
I took my cue from this, and procured for the CBers full-out gear for a hunting expedition. They had it all: hounds, horses, riding top hats, dusty monocles, hunting waistcoats, and bushy moustaches. Need I go on?
Within minutes, they were all charging down the corridors on their horses. The hounds howled and raced ahead, soon catching the old-lady's scent. The carpets had obligingly become green and grassy, and the CBers knocked down the paintings with their riding whips as they charged by. It was all very top-hole and spiffingly British.
"Tally-ho!" yelled Masked Piester, with a sudden upper-class British accent that quite contradicted her bedraggled appearance.
"She can't be far ahead now, if I do say so myself!" said Curio.
"Tut tut, of course you do say so yourself. Who else would have said it, eh what?" admonished Everinne, who was grinning wildly.
"View Halloo! The old lady's in sight!" The hound who was in the lead (his name was Charlie) said, his accent even more refined than MP's.
"Oh, isn't this just brilliant? Fantastically top-hole, old friend!" said the dog at the back (her name was Frederick, for some unknown reason), and she barked and howled gleefully.
Beatrice heard the galloping rumpus just as the CBers wre about to trample her, and she looked up, confused, and bumbled out of the way, looking dazed. The hounds and horses charged past, and then turned around (it was a very tight squeeze to get the horses around) and went in for another charge at her. This time, Beatrice simply grinned, snapped her fingers, and grabbed onto a very Tarzan-ish vine that dropped through the ceiling just as the ceiling exploded. She drifted upwards, clinging to the vine, and waved her fingers at the CBers. "Toodle-oo! By the way, it was a spider that made me flee to the kitchen."
Everyone looked upwards, and saw a large police helicopter, all sirens blaring, with murals of swooping birds of prey painted on its sides. Bells rang, horses neighed, hounds howled and barked, and the sirens blared louder than ever. It was all a cacophony of beautifully horrible sounds, don't you think? Personally though, my ears (not that ships have ears, but metaphorically, you know) are still hurting.
And then, it was all over. Silence. This silence was almost more deafening than the previous uproar of hullaballoo-ness. A small mouse scurried out of the corner, holding a tiny sign with the words, "Down with silence!"
Another mouse (who seemed to have stolen MP's bushy moustache) raced across the corridor after it, holding a sign that said, "Hear hear!"
The silence was broken by the sound of the Ghostbusters' theme song, and all the CBers sprang into action. "Let's go ghost-hunting!"
They all started singing Bookbug's variation: "When's there's something deranged! On the nice cruise ship! Who ya gonna call? 911!" and they ran through the corridors, looking everywhere for a ghost.
The only suspicious thing they found was a neon green ooze, which may or may not have been the last night's leftover pudding. While they were examining it, George came up behind them and smiled kindly. "What might you be doing?"
"Oh, we're just wondering what this green ooze is. Do you think it's ghost residue?" asked Winter Firefly.
"I don't know, I can't say I've ever seen a ghost on board this ship. I think there's some sort of shield that prevents it aboard the RMS Tiny, you know." George answered.
Disappointed, the CBers turned back to look at the ooze. Squeak was about to touch it, when he suddenly had an idea. "George, do you know what ghosts like to eat?"
There was no answer. They all turned to look at where George had been standing, but he was nowhere in sight. A tapestry on the opposite wall was swinging ever so gently.
Before the CBers could investigate, tap-dance music started playing out of nowhere, and Danie suddenly spotted a slightly transparent penguin tap-dancing.The penguin started singing: "My name is Roderigo! It was measle-pox that killed me! I was down by the docks, and throwing rocks! My story may seem lame, to those young dames, but it's as true as me name. So there!" The penguin bowed and hopped away around a corner. The CBers followed, yelling, "It's a ghost! Follow it!"
They came around a corner, and there was the penguin, sitting on top of a stone statue of a knight.
Suddenly, the statue moved, lifted up it's visor, and...
BOO!
Amy jumped, clutched at her heart dramatically, and yelled, "Roderigo! Save me!" Then she fell to the floor, which turned out to have been the spot where the CBers campfire had been, and fell through my horribly frail, burnt floor. A splash came from below, and the bright light of my corpse-teleporters could be seen even from where the other CBers stood.
Far away on the other side of me, the teleporters transported Amy's body to the engine room, where Glennis stood, looking crazed and ready to incinerate someone.
The same cheerfully robotic voice clicked into existence. "It seems that our weeping and moaning lessons have gotten more expensive, but tht's nothing to worry about, because we have a new bonus! For every minute you spend learning how to weep and moan, you get a dollar's worth of free phsyciatric lessons! The murderer's special bonus is an all-free lesson with the most experienced murderers in history! Don't worry, most of them were accidental flops, so the murderer won't learn too much! Rest in Peace, Amy. Rest in Peace."
(December 14, 2014 - 9:13 pm)
Dream:
Sigh. Dreams are so boring. I wonder why Roderigo didn't save me. I belive it was because he was a ghost. But then again, there can't be any ghosts on the ship, so......
Now I'll never be able to finish my ghost story! Ah, well, I forgot the end of it anyways. I will miss you all! (not.) Please come to the lessons! Now we all hate penguins! (You will go after Roderigo, right? But, on second thought, don't. He was my long-lost love from long, long ago.....
(December 14, 2014 - 10:47 pm)
(Ommy, were those helicopters painted with swooping birds of prey red? If so they were definitely a reference to something.... please let the helicopters be red... all hail...)
I walked down the deck, rubbing my hand on the strangely prickly rail, and suddenly saw land in the distance! It was a desert. I seriously considered making a swim for it, but my friends weren't all swimmers. Suddenly a sign appeared on deck. I read it quickly.
NOTICE FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF IRRITATED WEASELS:
Sirens mean escaped weasels
Loud beeping means the ship is sinking
Mournful flutes coming from the desert mean nothing and are perfectly safe.
Suddenly I heard loud sirens and ran to warn the others, who were all rapidly turning into weasels somehow, and barely noticed the sound of mournful flutes....
(December 15, 2014 - 11:44 am)
All Hail the Glow Cloud (a.k.a. a Horde of Globulous Bubblefishes). All Hail.
Don't get too excited Brookeira, I only know the first four or so, with absolutely no time to listen to the other fifty . . .
I'm glad you liked it, Everinne! Have no fear, Pandora's Fedora has it all in hand, and the murderer will be found out eventually . . .
One of our stowaway Captchas says muck. It certainly is mucky down there in the basement. No wonder Gollum liked it so much.
P.S. Haven't I already said no nicknames? Ommy doesn't sound nearly so . . . ominous as The Ominous, and I have a reputation to uphold, you know!
(December 18, 2014 - 5:28 pm)