Scayr Aftr the Oscarz

Musashi Sez:

So us “not so flush” folks watchd them Oscar awards on our—well, OK, Kaylee’z Smartphon—(cuz 500 hunnerd yeerz frum now, it turn out that ther ar no DumPhonz left). Harrumph. But that turn out yoosful to ME cuz it showd mai faithful crew that I wuz one of them moovrz an shaykrz who weyr tuxedos around ALL THE TIM!!! It jus the wae I wuz mayd. Huh.

Meenwhile, we are waytin on baited breft (cuz, yeah we ayt our dinnr an it was toonr, bif surpryz) fer Mr. Tygr’z next radio-cast to com throo.

An Mr. Tygr is taykin Grayt Chansiz, as we noe, cuz he cud gets his front pawz chain-linked together lik the polees does, and then whut is he gonna do, cuz he don’t have no back pawz to speek of, bein a puppet person lik he is.

So we waits, breathin hards, till we heers the ~~Crackul, Crackul~~

Mr. Tygr Sez:

Marc Anthony: Over!

~~Crackul, Crackul~~Big Dog, heer, over!

Marc Athony: Opened the door! But the Target almos caugtid me! I am in hidin, while the Targit thingks he left his sayf door open, Over!

Big Dog: Do you wants egstractshun?

Marc Anthony: Giv me one more dae. I is in hidin an I thingks I has the sayf’s double code cracked. Over.

Big Dog: Yu has discreshun. If yu needs the rescue, send the code. Over.

Marc Anthony: Roger. Over.

Big Dog: Are you currentlee sayf?

Marc Anthony: I am hidin in a file box, an yu noe that NOBODDEE luk insid thoz! An I am throwin out mai Mental Projection Units (MPUs), full force! Yu betcha!

Musashi Sez: MPUs, o deer. I noe jus egzaktlee how thos tend to translayt ovr the Wide Band (WB) from Low Earth Orbitg (LEO). It turn into this bad disco moovie about Wubleo, the Dansin Man. We trai nevr to goes ther laytlee, and that feller wift the dansin moovs, whu is freqwentlee in that Quentin feller's films? We tries hard to ignore him. Huh.

So, deer internashunul audience, yu kin see how our operativ needs yer help, donations, or at the verree leest, kind thogts?

Mr. Tygr Reportz

Musashi Sez:

We watched Mr. Tygr’s parashoot until it disappeared down there jus outside of Mumbai. We dint heer from him fer a reellee long tim. Mom an Kaylee were pacin bak an forth. I tuk a nap. See, I’ve known Mr. Tyrgr ALL MY LIF, an he is mai wrasslin coach an my frend, so I got 1000% confidens in him. When I wok up, I gave maiself a baft, because hygeen is eevn mor importint on a small spaceship than it is in a partimint. Then I went to the radio, jus in tim to pick up Mr. Tygr’s first report.

Mr. Tygr Sez:

Big Dog, this is Marc Anthony, over. I have slipped onto the target an luck is wift me. The whol crew is watchin the Oscars on this verree impressive flat-screen TV they got heer on this ship, which I gotta say is mutch fansee-er than ours is. Huh.

I has slipped down the corridor to wher the invisibul door is hidin in the bulkhead an I am workin my Bobby pins to get the lock open. Will mayk contact again when I has gotten inside. Over.

Musashi Sez:

He calls it luck. I calls it being Mr. Tygr. So there.

Singin in the Wind(less Space)

Musashi Sez:

Wull, I wuz sleepin on the dashbord of our Chair-Spaceship-Thing, an Mom sed, “Musashi, whut yu doin?” but before I cud explain, she gottid all distracted from perpayrin Mistr Tygr fer settin down in Mumbai so that he cud spy on Captin Nemo, who stol mai naymin rigts fer the blizzard on my fifth birftdae.  

Whut has she ben verree bizzee wift, yu asks? Writin songs, if yu kin beleevz it. So I thogtid, “If she kin do it, so kin I. Huh.” So here is mai song. (So, okay, I stol the leerik struktchur from that jeenyus fellr Joss Whedon, but I has interpreted it all by maiself.) So sing wift me, peeples!

Take my love, take my land,

Take me wher I cannot stand.

Doesn’t matter. I’m still free.

Can’t take spontaneiteee.

Take me out to the bloo.

Complain and say, “Poo on yoo!”

Burn the bagels, boil the Brie.

Can’t take spontaneiteee.

Let the soldiers march in line.

They will never take my spine.

Lost my claws, lost my dream.

Can’t take spontaneiteee.

Feel the silence echo long,

Makes me want to sing this song:

I can hear it, I can see:

Can’t take my spontaneiteee.

Lost my blizzard, lost my naym.

That cad Nemo takes the blame.

Doesn’t matter. I’m still free.

Can’t take spontaneiteeee.

Enterin the Atmo

Musashi Sez:

Wull, we are goin to be re-enterin Earth’s atmosfeer soon, an when that happens, it’s goin to be hot-flashy in heer, so our fansee an high-tech commyoonikayshun eqwipmints is goin to be all borked. We are sorree fer the inconvenience an we hops to be up an runnin shortlee. 

Once we get into the clouds wher it ar cool, I am shur that Mom an me will has noo plot ideas.

Ligting Up the Self-Interest

Musashi Sez:

Wull, it has been a long journey around the world, watchin all yu folks from our fansee spaceship-chair thing. But we has finded Captin Nemo, and now all we has to do is put Part 2 of our plan into akshun. Turns out that this Nemo fellr has returned to his homebase in Mumbai an has ben refueling and lookin fer replacemints fer his crew members who has got the homesick.

Victory shall be ours, yu bet.

 

We hav ben getting Mr. Tygr practice on doin stuff in a submareen, an also his spy misshun to steal back the Nayming Rights to the Blizzard, whut Nemo tukt when they shud have been MINE! Huh.

In celerbrayshun, we are havin toonr fer dinner. Woo hoo!

I Gets to Pilot the Ship!!!

Musashi Sez:

Zoom! Zish! Meeeeeeyrrrrr! I am pilotin the ship! I eevn has mai verree own pilot hat wift a brim!!! I am lookin the hight of stylish.

See, Mom worked verree hard today, an then she got to the point where she had to try like five whol tims to spell the word spycko psichlo that thin where they studdee peeples minds, an when she caym hom, she wuz too tierd to pilot, so she let me do it. (Yu notis that I not try that manee tims, cuz if I gots that tierd, we’d have Mr. Tygr pilotin the ship, an I egspeks that wudn’t go so gud.)

So far I has egsperimentaytid wift loop-de-loops, figure 88s an othr fansee moovz. Mom is so inspired by mai acrobatics that she sez jus as soon as she gets up tomorro, she will take the com and try some of them out herself.

But I gotta say, I think we needs noo ligt bulbs on this ship. Everboddee lookin a littul green in the floressint ligtin. Huh.

Hair Warz

Musashi Sez:

The problim wift yoozin tecknologee to find Captin Nemo is that it tayk so long. Shur, yu say, I gots a fansee spaceship an som verree attraktiv crew memberz (Mr. Tygr is blushin). Don’t that mean that yu kin has them turn some dialz an then speak some kinda incomprensobbul dialog that meens, in short, “Gotcha!”?

Well, no, not so mutch. Theez things takys tim an every thin has to be recalibrated all the tim, cuz artifishul grabity is a trickier thin than it look on TV shoz about the 23^rd centree. So we akshul does a lot of sittin around waytin. An this is not gud.

Cuz, yu see, when we are sittin around, it not onlee the crew sittin around in the ship. It is also the ship sittin in one place scannin. An that mean that our pilot got tim on her hands. An so she desiderayted to brush me. Huh.

She sed she gottid this idea about brushin enugf fur outta me to mayk a new kittee, lik  Mini-Musashi, whu wud be lik a littul brothr I cud boss around and also he cud be part of the crew. But whut I need a littul brothr fer when I gots Mom?

So I sez, “Captin Kirk didn’t hav nobody brushin his hair fer him!”

An she sez, “He didn’t need to. He oiled it down.”

So I sez, “Wull, Captin Picard din’t have nobody brushin his hair!”

And she sez, “Corse not, silly. He was bald.”

So I sez, “Wull, Captin Janeway—”

But she wuz reddee fer me. “In the first seezon she absolootely did, cuz she had that fancy Gibson Girl hair, which is impossible to do by yerself.”

An she sounded seerius, so I ran an hid unner the chair, wher she don’t fit, an I mayded a video an put it on YouTube, lookin fer a guru.

Halp me, Obi-Wearin Kernobi, yu ar mai onliest hope!!!