EPISODE LX - POKEMON: DIGITAL PETS OR SPAWNS OF SATAN?
With explosions buffeting the Wyzenhymer Flagship, Chancellor Slile found it difficult to remain on his unusually small feet while he bellowed his high pitched orders.
"Communications", he yelled over the din, "open a link to the USS Escort. Tell them that we are prepared to accept their unconditional surrender."
The communications officer eyed him doubtfully.
"Just do it!", Slile screamed.
The picture on the main tele-viewer began to change and, though static laced the screen, Slile was able to make out the form of his nemesis, Commander Reed.
"Resistance is futile, Reed.", he cooed, smiling, "If you surrender now, perhaps we'll allow your crew to live."
Reed's expression showed his amusement. "Not a chance, Slile.", he replied. "Your ship is out of commission, and this bluff you're trying is only serving to try my patience, which", he
added, "is wearing thin."
Slile had slowly been making his way over to the weapons officer's position, and held his hand over a brightly flashing button. "So be it, Reed.", he sneered, slamming his hand down on the blinking
light.
Reed cocked and eyebrow, curious. When nothing happened, he smiled mockingly. "You've lost, Slile", he said harshly. "Now take that grotesque piece of space trash, and limp back to *Disco
Centari before I blow you out of the galaxy."
Slile did not seem to hear the Commander's oratory, caught up in his fit as he was. He was dancing wildly around the bridge of his own ship, screaming at his weapons officer. "You're on report!
You're on report!"
Reed did not need to see anymore, and had the communications severed.
Slile recovered from his berserker rage and noted disapprovingly that Reed was no longer there. He considered his options, and felt a dark dread pass over him when he realized he had but one left. Retiring
to his quarters, he reached down and twisted the pinky ring on his left hand. The holographic image of his superior came into view.
"What is it , Slile?", the image queered irritably.
"Sky Marshall Wincus, the USS Escort is refusing to surrender, and my crew are a bunch of big, stupid, wee-wee, doo-doo..." Seeing that the Chancellor was about to go into one of his fits, Wincus interrupted.
"Slile", he said, the name spewing from his mouth like vomit (too descriptive?), "I gave you this one simple task to complete, and you failed me."
"But, but", he stammered, "Reed is really smart and stuff, and he has better dialogue."
"That's no excuse!", the Wyzenhymer Sky Marshall growled.
"Perhaps a few years managing the mining crews on the planet Dookie would toughen you up."
Slile paled visibly. "Not Dookie", he muttered. "I'll do anything."
"Anything, Slile?", Wincus inquired meaningfully.
"Uh...well", Slile suddenly realized he'd fallen into the Sky Marshall's trap. With some difficulty he swallowed his fear. "Anything, sir."
"Return to base then, Slile.", the Sky Marshall ordered, obviously pleased, "we have much to discuss."
