Posted by Gamemaster Wombat (Gamemaster) in Main Sim - USS Ogawa Exterior

Posted by Chief Petty Officer Oscar Cameron Cascarrabias Demalia (Engineer (Grouch)) in Main Sim - USS Ogawa Exterior

Posted by Gamemaster Wombat (Gamemaster) in Main Sim - USS Ogawa Exterior
Posted by… suppressed (4) by the Post Ghost! 👻

SNIP

When Oscar got to the airlock the door opened and chaos met the NCO. In front of him lay a beach scene. Someone had either replicated a hallway full of sand or seconded it from somewhere. Either way there were several young ensigns singing and swaying back and forth reciting something about cabbages and kings while a rather rotund engineering light lieutenant wobbled back and forth from his perch conducting the little younglings in their frolicking song. “Oh thank goodness you seem sane,” said the poor little crewman said as he rushed up to Casarrabias. “I don’t know what is going on Chief but they all went mad as a hatter in here.” He pointed to the Junior and mutter, “That one is the one asking for a carpenter.”

GM Wombat

Oscar nodded. “Okay, so he’s just fat and delusional, not an admirer of old music. As for being as mad as a hatter, are they actually suffering mercury poisoning, or are you just using that centuries-old term as a generality?”

He stepped farther in with the Crewman. As he did, the phrase, “mad as a hatter”, brought to mind a different tune, one that went:

Una se hace mas grande
Una se hace pequeño
Y lo que te da madre
No hace nada en absoluto

“Se pregunta Alice,” Oscar muttered to himself before he refocused on the discussion. “Did they say why they needed a carpenter, Crewman? Also, I believe I was promised oysters, and all I see is a bunch of sand and singing. If O-2 Walrus over there doesn’t have oysters, he’s not only crazy, he’s downright rude.”

Oscar Cascarrabias
Engineering

The junior crewman chuckled under his breath at the chief. It was clear he was talking with a man who worked for a living. After a moment the E3 shook his head, “I think he ate all the oysters already and is on to oyster crackers… Maybe oyster stew.” He tilted his head as he watched the the man rolling about in the sand, “Plus, Chief, you’re repeating yourself.”

GM Wombat

“True enough,” Oscar said. “I’m normally unflappable, but this is disruptive even for me. Well, might as well go talk to Lieutenant Gordo (and yes, I know that probably isn’t his name, but I’m just going to make up names for him until I know his real name) and see if I can get things handled.”

Oscar really hated being responsible for anything besides his personal effects and his own job. Then again, he loved patronizing officers whenever he got the chance. Dealing with an officer - officers, depending upon how many of the man’s companions were also commissioned - in a tone of condescension was right up CPO Cascarrabias’s alley. He strode through the sand, smiling at the satisfying crunch that his boot microphones amplified. (Oscar had once been asked why he wanted to hear how his footsteps sounded, and he replied that he wanted to know if he accidentally stepped on anyone’s feet by accident, since he wouldn’t be able to feel it. The people who were maintaining his iso suit took it as consideration; Oscar just wanted to be certain that if somebody cried out in pain, it was his doing.) He bounced as much as he could, and was trying to compose poetry before he spoke to the “Walrus” leading things. There was something a little melodic about how he and the others were behaving.

“Walrus, my good man,
It seems as if you’ve already began
You invited me to join this jaunt
But it seems the supplies are in want
Why have I been invited
If you are so benighted
As to fail to wait
For me to join these mates?”

Even coming out of his mouth, Oscar was disgusted with himself. The words were so… cutesy. He was going to have to pull out his anchovy collection and pop a few tins when this was all through.

Oscar Cascarrabias
Engineering

The lieutenant laughed and leaned back in his chair, chuckling at Oscar before reciting in a bad cockney lit,

“The time has come,” the said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

The officer licked his lips as he looked at some of the others playing around in the sand, “They look nice and fat, don’t they my dear carpenter? We shall feast well tonight!”

GM Wombat

Oscar almost choked on filtered air. He was sure that he had heard the Lt. (j.g.) calling himself the Walrus correctly, but that couldn’t possibly be correct. True, there was the joke that Ensigns in the Services departments either died on their first away mission or lived to have thirty year careers. The thing was, those Ensigns who died typically didn’t die at the hands of fellow officers. If CPO Cascarrabias had heard the Walrus correctly, he was considering cannibalism. Oscar may not have any love for officers, but he definitely drew the line at killing them.

His only resort was to default to what he did best - disruption and annoyance. He thought quickly as he looked between the ensigns and the Walrus.

“My dear Walrus, we have not the seasonings to make them taste quite right. If we prepare to flavor them before the shucking,” Oscar started, assuming now that the Walrus believed the Ensigns to be oysters, “then they will be an even more delectable feast. Perhaps you can go find something to add to them before the feast.”

Oscar motioned to the clearly terrified Crewman, who probably thought that Oscar had indeed gone mad along with the rest of them. “Don’t worry, the… uh… the… Sun here will make sure that I do not precede you, nor that… night… uh… falls before you return.”

He really hoped that the “Walrus” took the bait, because if not, he was really hosed on how to make sure that the party didn’t turn into a cookout.

Oscar Cascarrabias
Engineering

The Walrus agreed and bounced up excitedly holding out his hand to drag Oscar along with him. “To the Merchant area! I am sure they have salt, and pepper, and cabbages and all sorts of other exotic herbs and spices. Oh and butter! We mustn’t forget the butter to drip all over their fat little bodies when we crack them open!”

Oscar mentally swore to multiple forms of unpleasant afterlife as he realized that the “Walrus” was going to drag him along, which skewered his plans for actually getting the group to safety. Come to that, even if he had been enthusiastic about eating other humanoids, the fact that the Walrus considered salt, pepper, and cabbages to be “exotic” would have given Oscar a negative judgment of the Walrus’s taste. Then again, that gave him a sudden idea for how to incapacitate the corpulent commissioned officer. Admittedly, the idea was due to the regrettable circumstance to which he had accidentally subjected Cai earlier this morning, but some of the best ideas that Oscar had tended to come from others’ misfortune.

The other, sane NEs and lower ranking enlisted men looked to the NCO as their unofficial savior and leader with a questioning glance clearly communicating, “Now what?”

GM Wombat

Oscar turned back and looked at them through his clear face shield. He knew he needed to tell them to disperse as quickly as they could, but without letting the Walrus know what, exactly, was going on. The Grouch was not enjoying playacting as The Carpenter one bit, and he hated the fact that he had to actually give orders to others who were legitimately his subordinates even more. Once again, he decided to have a go at rhyming, but it was decidedly sub-par compared to, say, Neruda.

“Yes, Mister Walrus, to the bazaar we go,
To find some bold accompaniments
To our pleasant and sumptuous feast.
All of these fine guests will wait until we know
What we shall find for compliments
To their rather fluid tastes.”

He turned to the Crewman who had first apprised him of the situation. If he was going to keep the conceit, Grouch needed the Crewman to keep up with him. Hopefully, he wasn’t a dimwit like so many newly-minted officers. If the Crewman didn’t catch on, should CPO Cascarrabias’s plan fail, everyone in this corridor was in serious trouble.

“Well, Mister Sun, I suppose that we shall be off. Take care of the oysters while we’re gone. See that they get comfortable and secure, so that nothing happens to them that shouldn’t happen, will you?”

Oscar wiggled his eyebrows, hoping against hope that such a boldly flippant expression would indicate that he still had his senses. If the Crewman, whose name Oscar had never learned, but dubbed as the Sun, had his, he would know well enough to evacuate everyone and hide them away in a secure location. With that, the Grouch (or the Carpenter, take your pick and get your choice in this madhouse) joined the Walrus on their trip to the Merchant Area.

Oscar Cascarrabias
Engineering