The Quest for the Kai.

The Quest for the Kai: Part 3.

The silliness doth verily flourish unchecked.

The story so far:
Part 1: After consulting the Dudley Oracle the Silver Surfer starts his search for the thing known as the 'Kai' whilst Mrs Galactus & Mrs Darkseid discuss the possibility of Galactus having a period.

Part 2: Bishop instructs his students in hostage taking with Baron Zemo and the Surfer asks for help in his search; the Baron joins the quest.

The Questers, Mrs Galactus & Mrs Darkseid, The Silver Surfer, Bishop & Baron Zemo, are flying through deepspace.

Baron Zemo: Herr Surfer, Herr Surfer, may I ask eine question?

Bishop: Don't you know better than to distract the driver!

Baron Zemo: But ve can't fly on a board all ze time - ve need a spaceship. Dis ist sehr ficken une-comfortable!

Bishop: Just be glad we're putting up withya - now you want luxeries!

Silver Surfer: (The surfer stops) The Kraut is right. It would be more convienient to have a spaceship. (He flies up to the two super-beings). Mrs G, my companions require a spaceship to travel safely - would it be possible for you to create one?

Mrs G: Why, of course dear. I thought your board was looking a bit crowded!

Mrs D: What kind of ship do you want? How about something in mauve?

Silver Surfer: Nothing too complex - just a simple Starship.

Mrs G: Well, let me see. So, how many rooms do you require?

Silver Surfer: Two will be fine.

Baron Zemo: Vhy not five oder six? (Surfer and Bishop look closely at the Baron) You never know, we could have visitors. Besides, it's not like ve're paying for it!

Silver Surfer: Two will be fine.

Mrs D: And how many bathrooms dear?

Silver Surfer: Just the one!

Baron Zemo: Nein, nein! Dat is nicht acceptable! I vill require a bath-zimmer of mine own. There is no vay I vill share eine bath-zimmer mit diese schwarze-mann!

Bishop: Shwarze-mann? Did you just call me a Black-man? You fucking Nazi! Now we see the real-side coming out!

Baron Zemo: But dat is technically accurate - your are black und you are a man - nicht war?

Bishop: If we're going technical - that'd make you a short fat Nazi, soon to have my boot up his poopang! Nicht war?

Baron Zemo: I am not a Nazi! I am an officer of ze Wehrmacht!

Mrs G: Oh, dear the insects are squabbling again - shall I swat a couple!

Mrs D: No dear, let it be - Surfy seems fond of them!

Silver Surfer: Please control yourself. This quest is difficult enough without all this bickering. You Baron will desist from using abusive language.

Baron Zemo: I vasn't being abusive - I was just being accu...

Silver Surfer: ENOUGH!! And you Mr Bishop - please refrain from threatening the Baron; and don't be so sensitive about your colour. It seems to be a peculiarly human hang-up!

Bishop: Human hang-up huh? Easy for you to say that - standing there all silvery and shiny. How'd ya like it if the Golden Glider turned up and started dissing yer inferior silver colour? That'd soon take the shine offa yer bubbly personality.

Baron Zemo: Do I get my bath-zimmer oder nicht?

Bishop: Yeah, you can have yer bathroom - if I can stick yer head down the bowl and shit on ya!

Baron Zemo: I don't tink I vood like dat!

Silver Surfer: ENOUGH!! Yes, you may have your own bathroom. Anything else?

Baron Zemo: Vell, now dat you ask? I vood also prefer a dressing-zimmer, an ante-zimmer, an observation deck, a conservatory, a library, a dining-zimmer, a lounge, a full galley und a ball-zimmer!

Bishop: A ballroom? A ballroom? Who in this crazy freaking universe is gonna dance with you - ya fucking Kraut midget! A ballroom? Jesus! Suppose to be a Starship not a fucking Bavarian Schloss!

Baron Zemo: Dere is no need to be abusive - it vas just an eine kleine suggestion. A midget? Hah - that's laughable - I used to tower over Der Fuhrer! Der Zwerg indeed!

Silver Surfer: Two rooms with separate bathroom facilities & all the usual accoutrements.

Mrs G concentrates as arcs of Cosmic Power flare from her delightfully exquiste pale pink helmet to create from the mere remains of stardust the most....

Baron Zemo: Vat the hell's dat? I expected someting mit fins und gun turrets - nicht ein ficken flying schiezen-pile!

Bishop: You wanna keep riding on the board? Hey, Surfer, what is that? Looks like a pile of dog-shit! And in purple too!

Silver Surfer: They have their own aesthetic ideas which are sometimes, difficult to appreciate. You two can explore the ship while I get to Celestial Prime.

The Surfer drops them off in the cargo hold of the ship.

Baron Zemo: Dis ist sehr embarrasiing! I can't believe I'm flying in a purple dog-turd.

Bishop: I thought a dung-beetle like you'd be right at home!

Baron Zemo: Dat is nicht amusing!

They walk out of the cargo hold to find...

Baron Zemo: Tunnels! Tunnels! Vhere are the ficken corridors? Und vhy so many tunnels? Vhat the hells going on?

Bishop: (A bemused look plays on Bishop's face as a realisation dawns.) I geddit! Hahahaha!

Baron Zemo: Vhat? Vhat so amusing?

Bishop: Hahahaha!

Out in space.
Mrs G: I do hope the insects like their new anthill!

Mrs D: It's not them I'm worried about. It's your slave - what is he up to?

Mrs G: I know what you mean - he's running around like a blue-arsed fly - dragging us across the whole sodding universe - for what? SURFY!

Silver Surfer: Not now - I must get to...

Mrs G: NOW!!! (Force field holds him motionless.)

Mrs G: What in the name of constipated koozees is going on? What's this all about then?

Silver Surfer: Uhm ,what do you mean?

Both: SURFY!!!

Silver Surfer: Uhm, sorry...it's been a bit frantic. Uhm, it's just that, well, somthing or someone is looking for a thing!

Mrs G: (Pause) Is that it? All this pissing around because of that - it's that bleeding scallop in that sodding cave, isn't it??

Silver Surfer: Uhm sort of - but something is happening because Mr G says the heavens are in turmoil.

Mrs G: The heavens are always in sodding turmoil - usually caused by him burping, belching and farting his way through the cosmos - the energies he releases when he let's rip are sodding unbelievable. It's like the Aurora Boralis under those bed-covers of a night.

Mrs D: Hmm, I know what you mean! Mine old man's no better - huge drain-unclogging emissions - foul stench - and me with my sinus problems. Just when I get them cleared he let's rip - gawd it's like there were a herd of dead drooggies up his arse!

Mrs G: & what is this bleeding thing that someone is looking for?

Silver Surfer: It's called either the Kai or the Kay - I'm not quite sure; but Bishop says it may be in Celestial Prime. I was on my way there now! If you wouldn't mind looking after the huma....uhm insects, I'd be very grateful.

Mrs G: Alright, but how are you going to find this thing?

Silver Surfer: Uhm, to be honest, I was going to cheat! I was going to ask!

Mrs D: Who?

Silver Surfer: Grotus Squaley.

Grotus Squalley, also known as the Squeeler; The Mouth; The Lips; The Tongue; The Epiglottis; Chatty; Chat-Chat; Chit-Chit; Chot-Chot; Choo-Choo; Chit-Chat; Shit-Shat; Arsehole; Scumbag; Scumcake; Scumcrisps, Scumcakebagholecrisps; my grotty wotty (to his grilfriend) and drooggie-droppings - that would be his mother.

Mrs G: Who's he dear?

Silver Surfer: An odious toad better known as the..

Ugly Man: Squeeler!!

A bar, somewhere on Celestial Prime.

Ugly Man: Squeeler!! You're so fracking bio-ended!

Even Uglier Man: Yeah, fracking bio-ended!

A slight wind rustles the decaying piles of old inebriates, a chill wind blows through the bar and somewhere a lonely harmonica weeps gently. Standing in the doorway, like a bald Clint Eastwood, is...

Ugly Man: The Silver Surfer!

Silver Surfer: Let him be - I have need of him.

Ugly Man: (Grabbing Grotus by the throat & holding him hostage.) Get back or you'll be using him as a doormat! I mean it, get back!

Even Uglier Man: yeah.. get back!

Silver Surfer: (Moving forward) Listen to me you feeble-minded Humper-herder, I am sick to fracking death of the meezzoles* & krowtees** I have to put up with. Not only am I baby-sitting two supremely powerful but intensely boring housewives, but I have to keep peace between a time-travlling pimp-like super-hero and an unreformed fascist super-villian. And now, now I have to talk to the most odious and pathetic creature in the entire galaxy - Grotus Squaley! So, I've had it, I've really, really had it. I am no longer the Silver Surfer - (an ominious crackling fills the air and cosmic energy bubbles and froths out of his eyes and the entire light in the rooms seems to be sucked into his body) - BEHOLD THE DARK SURFER!(TM) AN AGENT OF PURE EVIL! WITNESS MY POWER! COWER BEFORE MY MIGHT!! I AM COSMIC POWER INCARNATE!! PREPARE TO DIE!! (The Ugly man cringes before this terrifying onslaught and while he is distracted - the Surfer kicks him in the balls.)

*meezzoles - rat-like creatures, possessing an extremely low intelligence which they use sparsley & inadequately.
**krowtees - dull creatures who regard meezzoles as intellectual heavyweights.

Ugly Man: Aaaaaaghhhh! Oh, suffering chuds! Aaaaaaghhhh! My grotods, aaaaghhhh!

Even Uglier Man: yeah...my grotods, aaaaghhhh!

Silver Surfer: Be quiet - silly man. Come Grotus, I need a word with you.

Ugly Man: Don't let him go, aaaghh, get him!

Even Uglier Man: Well, considering the abject failure you made of it, I'd be inclined to let them go. But them, what do I know - I'm only a henchman, and a number 2 at that. What possible right have I got to express a contrary opinion? No, I just have to travel quielty and listen to your inane utterances, 'Get him!' or 'Your for it!'. Oh weeping Koozees, the sheer stupidity and gross intellectual vacousness of your statements makes me....

Outside the Surfer is flying up and away into the clouds, with Grotus Squaley unusually quiet.

Silver Surfer: What's the matter Grotus? You're unusually quiet!

Grotus: Quiet? Quiet? What have I got to shout about? Quietly sipping my piss of a pint and those fracking krowtees turn up and now you kidnap me. Can't be good, can't be fracking good. The herald of the mighty Galactus does not rescue lowly scum about to get their grotods stomped on and handed to them on a plate. I ask you where is the...

Silver Surfer: shut up Grotus.

Grotus: ...sense in that? Or the sense in this? Rushing around the universe stopping bar-fights, where in the great cosmos design does that figure? I know you've come to me ask me a question, a question that burns your tongue black, a question that deserves answers.....

Silver Surfer: Shut Up Grotus!

Grotus: ...but what about answers that deserve questions, what about the un-asked question? a female silence that defies all logic, can an unasked-question be answered by an un-answered answer? Answers and questions that defy the temporal relationship between knowledge and the unknowing. Unknowing, uncaring, unwearying, unwashing.....

Silver Surfer: Shut The Frack Up Grotus!!

Grotus: ...unwashable, the grit, the grime; the slim, the slime; the dim, the dime; the Kree, the crime; the do, the da; they do run run, they do run run; they do walk walk, they do walk walk...

Silver Surfer: (Screaming to the heavens.) IN THE NAME OF GREAT STEAMING CHUDS - SHUT THE FRACK UP WILL YOU!!!

Grotus: ...they do stride stride, they do stride stride; they do jump jump, they do jump jump; jump skip hop, hop skip jump, skip skop skump...

Silver Surfer: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Grotus, bound and gagged, sits miserably on the edge of the board as the Surfer soars through the bleak space. Then suddenly, the starfield vanishes, all feeling of movement ceases and then the Surfer slowly realises...

Silver Surfer: Oh, bugger! We're stuck in D-Space!

Normal Space has 7 dimensions, up, down, left, right, front & back, or for the more classically trained, the x, y & z axi, and time. However, in Dimensionless Space or D-Space, there is no such thing, it just is. Since it has no dimensions it is endless, you can never reach the edge. Indeed, since travel is a function of distance, and there is no distance in D-Space, there is only ever one-point in D-Space, commonly refereed to as Homebase & moving away from it brings you closer to it. As time is absent, you neither grow old or tired; you just sit there - bored.
It was first theorized by the great French social-climber and time-waster Bertrand du Jour, but alas his ideas were met with equal measures of derision & scorn and a tea-spoon of disbelief. His social-standing fell, perhaps fell is too harsh a word, suffered a gradual subsidence, and he became the butt of bad French jokes such as, "Where's Bertrand?" "Everywhere and nowhere"; "What time does Bertrand get here?", "He hasn't left his house but he's over there" and so on.
French humour is notoriously difficult to translate into English, and pretty piss-poor in the original French anyway. German humour, however, is notoriously difficult to translate into human thought - the German for sharp humour is 'Spruehender Geist' - now, how funny is that?