Shakesy Tries To Repay
Who: Shakespeare primarily
Where: The altar
When: Rumbling in stomach, must be lunch.
"Sir," said Shakespeare.
"Yes?" asked Whitewolf, as Keto moved towards Dirk.
"Since Jay and Smegg could not find her, Mayeth I be granted
permission to locate Alota. Thy female hath saved my life, and I
ought to repay her debt incurred. I at least needth to try."
Whitewolf looked at Shakespeare, who stood with an imploring grin
on his face.
"She may even hath wounds many and various, and being of the
medicery, I can'st patch them up, Thy will still have doctoreth
great, Keto, please sir?" he asked.
"Let the stupid bard go sir, then I won't have to put up with any
more of his patehtic whining," he added.
Shakespeare nodded to Keto's comment.
Whitewolf rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Sure, go, try and find her. But bring your selves both back in
one piece please, and try not to get hit by any boulders. Keto, you
fix up harris and Dirk here, whilst we decide to try and sort out the
mess that Chrylser has got himself into."
"Thank you sire," said Shakespeare bowing.
He ran over to the altar's hole and disappeared into the black.
He'd gotten no more than a few metres when he heard a commotion from
back where the away team's had been. He was about to turn aroudn and
run to see what had happened, when he lost his balance and fell down
a large hole. Unbeknownst to him, it was the same hole Alota had
fallen down earlier.
He landed heavily on the ground and his head hit the floor with a
"I needth to bring crash helmet on thy next mission," he moaned.
Shakespeare got to his feet and looked up the long hole. It seemed
to be very high, and he wondered how he'd survived the fall. Maybe
"Hello!" he called up it. his voice echoed slightly and it was
followed by a rumbling noise.
"What'th ist that?" he quiered when he noticed a alrger black
object moving towards him.
"Oh poop," he said, jumping backwards to avoid a rockfall. After
some more crashing and tumbling, he opened his eyes to see the hole
completely blocked up. There was only one way he could go now. And
that was forward.
"I hopeth this won't go down on myne record," he wondered.
Shakespeare had been wlakign for a quite a while, stright into
walls and the odd fallign on his face. It wasn't easy to see in
pitch black, and the weird squelch noise did not improve his
confidence that he was going the correct way at all.
"Where, oh where be thy exit?" he asked. There was a large
squelching noise in repsonse and Shakespeare stood still.
He hadn't moved so he'd not made that noise. He turned around, not
that it helped in the dark, and called out.
"Hello? Ith there anybody hiding in thou dark?"
He felt a large hit in his chest and fell backwards, travelling
down another tunnel and landing, this time, in a much better lit
"Ouch, my head is't a shape new," he said, rubbing his cranium, and
getting to his feet.
"Now where be I?" he wondered. Up ahead, he saw the figure of
Alota, walking very slowly past the large amount of slimy type
creatures that were clinging to the wall and making a harmony of
"Alota, I hath found you," he called out, and carefully walked
forward, negotiating through the creatures.
<Alota, the ball is in your court.>
(Lister walks in holding a cream cake)
Rimmer: Ah, that's nice Lister, did you make it?
Lister: Yeah, it's not that good though. It was supposed to be roast