THE NEON LITES:

The Snerdly Itch Project

This time, Sparki remembered to put the (STILL!) nameless ship on Autopilot before settling down for the Quasi-Yak Quiche.

           All was well in the Universe….

           Really very well…

           Happy almost…

           Come on! These are the "Neon Lites" here - do you REALLY believe things can be okay for very long? If you do, then I have a Srelinian Bird Cage Comet to sell you VERY cheap. (Check out my auction at www.ebay.com)

           Things did not go well for more than a mega-second really. Sparki noticed It almost eventually. It was an odd blipping on the screen, barely perceptible at first, then growing more and more insistent. Sparki stared, genuinely hoping that it would vanish, but it seemed as permanent as Snerdly's bad breath.

           "Uh-oh," she finally said.

           That small utterance propelled the Neon Lites into action. They all bounced over to the console to see what horror awaited them.

           "What does `uh-oh' mean?" Mollie gasped.

           "Like a totally bogus malapropism," Sparki replied cheerfully. "A major nonsense word for `something is rotten in the State of Denmark'."

           "We're in Denmark?" Tasha's wide-eyes grew wider.

           "Where's Denmark?" Craig whispered to Hamish, who shrugged helplessly.

           "What is wrong?" Mollie exclaimed, exasperated. Bruce slipped a Prozac into a cup of cappuccino, added vanilla flavoring and offered Mollie a drink.

           "Oh, like we bogusly lost our Navigational Propensity Archive." Sparki bemoaned.

           "Huh?"
           "The ships doesnae know where tis goin'." Hamish translated as the others turned to him in surprise.

           "So what you're saying is we could be anywhere?" Snerdly demanded.

           "Like, no…" Sparki smiled, "we could totally be everywhere."

           "But where are we?" Snerdly squeaked.

           "Dunno," Sparki sighed, "but we're about to crash into it."

           Everyone assumed the position (in spite of being warned repeatedly that when you `assume', you make an `ass' out of `u' and `me'), all too familiar with the standard crashing exercise.

            A soothing, monotone voice of the female variety intoned in a loud voice through the ship: "To operate your seatbelt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seatbelt and if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised. In the event of a water landing, your seat cushions may be used as a flotation device. If this happens, you may keep the complimentary cushion free of charge. In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are traveling with two small children, decide now which one you love more."

           The ship skidded to the ground, bounced a few times, then landed quite carelessly on something soft.

           "This does not bode well," said Snerdly, as they all stepped out of the ship and found themselves surrounded by trees, birds, mountains and other non-familiar sights.

           Mollie stepped up to a sign and read aloud: "Frequent Bear encounters - proceed hiking with caution."

           "Is that b-e-a-r or b-a-r-e," asked Bruce, wondering if excitement was warranted.

           "What do they mean by `encounters'?" Snerdly's eyes narrowed.

           "What do they mean by `hiking'?" Tasha peered at her six-inch gorgeous gold pumps.

           "More to the point," Sparki beamed. "Who are `they'?"

           Snerdly tapped the ship cautiously, then circled around the hull. He miraculously produced a pocket computer (miraculous because the writers have conveniently forgotten it was smashed chapters ago…- editor) and started making rapid calculations.

           "As luck would have it, the wild mushroom needed to repair the Navigational Propensity Archive is indigenous to this region! All we need to do is hike to the center of the forest and look at the roots of the Dingdang Marsh trees. The mushrooms are plaid colored and grow in pairs. They emit toxic gasses when exposed to whiskey."

           "Aye," Craig nodded, "Just like our Hamish."

           Snerdly continued. "The hike is approximately 19 miles uphill, both ways…"

           "Have ye lost yer mind, lad!" Hamish bellowed. It was not a question, but a mere statement of fact.

           "Nah, it'll be easy…" Snerdly shrugged. "We can rough it…we'll get in touch with Nature… like the Boy Scouts…"

           Bruce woke up. "Are we touching Boy Scouts? Oooh!"

           Mollie held a fist to his nose. "Not unless we want a law suit!"

           Snerdly hadn't stopped speaking. "…It will be fun - the Great Outdoors. The wind at our backs and the sun on our faces. We'll camp in the woods!" He took a deep breath of fresh air. His lungs, unused to something so pure, seized and Snerdly coughed violently.

           "Whatever local weed yer smokin', lad, light one up for me!" Hamish guffawed, smacking Snerdly on the back, sending him flying into a bush.

           "Oh, like Snerd-dude is almost right that this is totally do-able." Sparki placed her backpack on the ground and unzipped it. She removed six metal tent poles, two canvas tents, various pots and pans, and hiking boots. "Now, everyone take something…"

           "Wouldn't it have been easier to keep all this stuff in the back pack?" Mollie observed.

           "Like, no - that would be a way bogus camping experience, dudette."

           It took them six hours to hike one mile into the woods. Hamish, in a moment of supreme machismo had picked up the six poles and was carrying them across his arms. Within an hour, he had lost all feeling in his fingers, but as it was similar to how he felt after a night in the pub, he tarried on, barely noticing.

The others were loaded down with more essential supplies - Mollie carried cans of Beefarino and Beans, Bruce carted a manicure set, Craig transported his fiddle, Sparki hefted her back pack and Tasha hauled a blowdryer and curling iron.

           "What are you going to do - plug them into a knot-hole?" Mollie scoffed. Tasha fluffed her hair.

           They continued to walk, with Hamish leading the way. Suddenly, he heard an odd, unidentifiable sound, so he stopped short, bracing himself as the others (expectedly) smashed into him, one after the other like a 7-car pile up on the turnpike at rush hour.

           "Shhhh," Hamish whispered as Tasha began to screech that she had lost a nail. "I hear something…"

           Silently, they crashed through the underbrush, elbowing each other and pushing each other aside.

           "What is it?" Mollie asked, slipping through the tangled bushes until she was at Hamish's side.

           "Looks to be…ah, yes," Hamish said triumphantly. "Four geeks playing Bridge in the woods!" He turned to the rest of the group. "Move along. Nothing t' see here…"

           As they hiked through the woods, signs of civilization grew scarcer and scarcer. They passed a few more Bear Warnings (including a sign that gave strict instructions never to get between a mother and her cubs), as they moved further away from the stream they had been following.

           Finally, Hamish called a halt. Rather than admit exhaustive strain from the tentpoles that were ripping his arms from their sockets, he peered at the mid-day sky.

           "Twill be dark soon. Best we set up camp." He tossed the tentpoles to the ground, causing a rockslide two mountains over.

           "What are you doing, Craig?" Tasha asked, moving up to his side.

           "Videotaping everything," Craig grinned, wildly pointing the camera at some natural cross formations made of sticks and rope.

           "Why?"
           "Because if we all vanish, someone can find th' tapes and release them as a boring, low-budget film that will net millions in th' domestic market."

           "It will never happen!" Snerdly sneered.

           "Why not?" Tasha blinked.

           "What idiots would pay to see THAT?"

           A random thought hit Tasha. "What do you mean `vanish'?"

           "Come on, Tasha! Where's your sense of adventure?" Mollie smiled. "We're roughing it. We're fending for ourselves against the great elements…like our ancestors before us…using or wits to survive…eating bark and caterpillars when there is nothing else!"

           "Pate fois gras? Caviar?" Bruce offered the twins a pretty lace napkin and help out a silver tray filled with refreshments.

           Hamish was standing over the tent poles, looking helplessly at them, wondering what to do with them. Mollie noticed his pained expression and smiled slyly at the other men. "Craig and Snerdly, I think we should let the real men, Bruce and Hamish, put the tents up…"

           Craig and Snerdly both pumped up their chests and tightened their muscles. Practically grunting, they grabbed the tentpoles and set to work. Not to be outdone, Bruce and Hamish took the rest of the poles and worked faster.

           Mollie, Tasha and Sparki sat down to watch all the fun. The men set up camp, placed the tents as the girls directed, then built a fire. They moved the tents so Tasha could have a better view, then relit the fire. Then they relocated the tents so Bruce wouldn't be drafty and then tried to relight the fire once more. The tents were repositioned once again so Craig could have better lighting, and an argument ensued about what kind of bark was best for a campfire. Sparki took a spaceheater and a battery pack from her backpack and put it where the fire should have been. Within minutes, she had prepared a dinner of beans, beefaroni and weinerschnitzel-a-la-Sparki.

           Once the food had been consumed and the dishes washed, Craig began fiddling and singing" "Row, row, row, your ship, gently through the cosmoses. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, it's all just osmosis…everyone…"

           "Anyone know any scary stories?" Sparki asked perkily, once the round had ended and after Hamish had let out a belch that shook the ground.

           "Yer mean scarier than this one?" Hamish peered at the camera and waved.

           "Oh I do!" Tasha held up her hand.

           "You do?" Mollie was shocked.

           "Uh-huh!" Tasha nodded. "Once time, at Mall Camp, they took us on a field trip and the BUS CAME BEFORE I WAS ANYWHERE NEAR MACY'S AND I HAD TO LEAVE!"

           Bruce screamed. "Oh girlfriend that is just too scary for ole Bruce…I'm having palpitations!"

           Tasha flushed, but continued, "…and one time, at Band Camp…"

           Snerdly kvetched. "You went to Band Camp too? So did I! I went to Camp Glen Miller…or was that Glen Campbell? Well anyway, I was there to learn the art of Kazoo Music Management and I went for four summers in a row. My mother bought me blue shorts and sewed nametags inside of them so I wouldn't lose them. But I did. My good friend Burt took them and ran them up a flagpole. We all had a good laugh over that one. And one night, Burt stuffed me in a tuba as a joke. I loved Band Camp…"

           "Hey, um…well…is that a bear?" Bruce asked, still shaking from Tasha's horror story, but trying desperately to stay calm.

           "A what?" Craig asked politely.

           "B-e-a-r." Mollie spelled, pointing.

           "That's a big bear…" Craig gulped.

           "I thought bears were cute and fuzzy…like in the zoo…" Tasha stared at the large mammal.

           "No one told HIM…" Hamish remarked.

           "Guys…um…guys…?" Snerdly squeaked. "Um…er…I mean…that is to say…um… that is the BABY!" He passed out on the green leaves beneath them.

           "What?" Hamish demanded trying not to think about the answer. Mollie tapped his shoulder and pointed.

           "I think that over there is the mama."

           "That is NOT the mama!" Hamish barked. "THAT is a WALL OF BEAR!"

           "Yeah, well," said Sparki brightly. "The wall is headed this way."

           "Not only that," Bruce glowered, "but we are all standing in poison ivy."