Was It Something I Said?

The journey to the light wasn't easy.
The horrendously drunk Alex had shown no signs of sobering up, and was almost unable to walk.
Phil and Jay had tried supporting him for a while but it was a tough task, wobbly legged as he was, and touchy-feely as he was becoming. Keeping their own, unpredictably flatulent, bodies under control was difficult enough, without Solvay's stumbling and writhing to contend with. When he'd launched himself towards Jaxx, grasping for the other man's speedos but missing, landing face down in the dirt, they'd convinced White Wolf to give him a ride. It was already getting light and they still had much ground to cover.

When they set off for the second time, Solvay solemnly announced from White Wolf's back that he was a cowboy, and as they trudged, wandered and trundled along, he 'treated' them all to a raucous and overly dramatic rendition of Bon Jovi's “Wanted Dead or Alive”.
He was convinced that it sounded identical to the record, whined 'guitar licks' an' all. In reality it was almost unimaginably awful - he could hardly form words. Or recall the meaning of 'pitch'.

“... onn-a HAAMM-sterIriiide...”

White Wolf had shown incredible willpower in stopping himself turning and biting Solvay's foot during the extraordinary 'solo'. The indignity of transporting a wailing paralytic doofus in girl's clothing was almost too much to bear in the swelling heat of the day. Still, at least Solvay wasn't farting - unlike everyone else.

Poor Phi was almost beside herself at having to let her rump erupt around other people.
"I don't usually do this kind of thing" she'd told them, miserably, as another batch of fartshroom gas blasted its way into the atmosphere with a formidable RrRRRiiippp....
Two seconds later and Jaxx's buttocks were on the flap again (mmBBIIRRRPPFFF!), followed shortly by Davie (PPLP...) and Evelina (FRRUTT!), and so on, until everyone had loudly chipped their pomp potatoes.
And so it continued for the entire day.

The cacophonous chorus, combined with Alex's less than subtle vocalisations, meant that they were an extremely conspicuous group. They were fortunate not to run into any predators as they pressed through forests and plodded across plains, but Jay was keeping a shrewd eye out for any beasts, even during the fart-off with Phil.

Alex himself was having a grand old time. He couldn't quite remember where they were or what they were doing there, he just knew he felt like he was filled with warm honey, there were some girls around, and he was getting to sing and ride a horse.
No... Not a horse, White Wolf.
Fluffy, fluffy White Wolf.

He flopped suddenly forward – the balance shift causing White Wolf to stumble and grumble – and snuffled into the rotund hamster's fur.
“Soft” he murmured, stroking his steed's neck.
White Wolf scowled at the verdict.

If Alex had been aware of his behaviour, he'd have curled up, and quite possibly died, in a little ball of cringe right then and there. Luckily he was currently more compost brain than compos mentis.


A hot day's trekking later

It was dusk and they'd nearly reached the beacon. It still blazed brightly, leading the now very tired group Cassward, or so they thought.

“Ow! Hey, what was that, dudes?” Jaxx's ankle had collided with something.
Davie crouched to examine it. “Looks like some kind of tripwire.”
He looked around for more and double-took at the house, noticing it properly for the first time.
"That was unexpected. Look...”
They looked.
"I say! A house!"
Jay and Phil exchanged a glance.
“Oh” frowned Efof “maybe it wasn't Cass after all.”
"Then who the smeg was it?" Plisken strained his eyes to try and make out the house's detail.

Alex slipped from a relieved White Wolf's back, sinking to his knees next to Seymour's chair - on which he leaned heavily, much to Seymour's distaste. He squinted over at Molly, who was running her hand over a nearby piece of metal that was lodged in the ground with something else moored to it.
“You doin'?”
She ignored him and brushed some dirt off the thick metal something.
“SS... Hercules...” she murmured.

"Goodness!" Seymour jumped, causing the others to start, too.
There... There was a bearded man looking at them!

For a few moments nobody said anything, the Dwarfers staring in shock at the human-looking man, and he at them.

Alex hadn't quite caught up with events.
“Herculees?” he slurred at Molly, a few beats behind everyone else.
“Tha'swhat I call my-”
“COULD someone please take control of Mr Solvay!?” Seymour yelped, clapping a quick hand over Alex's mouth.

He didn't want to seem uncultured to the bearded gentleman, who was a possible true native of the planet! How would it look if this... alien's... first impression of the Blue Dwarf was the drunken dimwit?

Nobody removed Mr Solvay, they were all still staring at the native in shock, so Seymour gave him a shove. Alex slithered stupidly to the ground .

“Push me” Seymour ordered Efof, and extended a hand towards the bearded man.
He set his face into a suitably noble expression.
"Hello, there. I... am Ambassador Seymour Niples, and this" he swept a hand at the band of weary travelers "is my loyal-” pppUUAaarrpp!!

His eyes bugged.
No! His body had betrayed him during this potentially very important diplomatic first contact.

“... cock” said Solvay, pointing at a fat bird as it hopped past.


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