The Quest for the Kai.

The Quest for the Kai: Part 4.

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.

Part 3: A starship, of sorts, is created, the Surfer finds Grotus Squaley - who may know where the 'Kai' is - but then gets trapped in D-space.



Silver Surfer: You stupid, stupid, imbecilic, moronic (spitting it out with real venom) BOARD! I can't believe it! I just can't believe it! Years and years of space travel, from one end of the known universe to the other and nothing, absolutely nothing! Never! Never! Never did my board ever wander near fracking D-Space! Up and over, down and under, or round and left - but never, never did it fly head-first into the chudding thing! (The ironing-board take this verbal abuse for so long until it stands vertically upright and aggresively pushes towards the Surfer, rustling it's ironing-cover and shaking it's extendable legs.) Don't you dare! Don't you dare! Get back there! The nerve of it! Not only do you make a pathetic mistake but now you turn on your master! (At this the board rattles) Yes master!! That's what I am - so watch it!! (The Surfer bristles with Cosmic power and the board whimpers and sulks back before collapsing and retiring into the corner. The Surfer idly stands looking at the gagged Grotus Squaley.) Well, Grotus! I bet you know a way out of here, don't you?

Grotus Squaley is probably the best-known and undoubtedly the most trust-worthy oddity in the 3rd Galactic Quadrent. Some say he offended a minor deity with his tale-telling and was thus cursed to speak in free-flowing, unmanagable gibberish. Others, however postulate, he suffered pre-frontal cerebral demyelination after catching a particulary virulent sexual disease from a cheap koozee. A cheap koozee, in this regard, is not a person offering sexual deviance at discounted rates, but rather, one who is not too particular about their personal hygiene.
The problem with Grotus is, and as always, there is definately a problem, that somewhere in the verbal tide of dissassociated and semi-associated nonesense, digressions, similies and pure unmitigated drivel that he utters, there actually is an answer to your particular question.
Men with strong wills, women with even stronger wills, aliens with wills wrought from dark star-matter and androids with no concept of will, have all, alas, succumbed and drowned before Grotous's tidal wave of trivia. It is reputed, that he once spoke for 3 moon-cycles, when a foolish human asked for an explanation of the Spider-man clone saga.

Slowly the Surfer moves forward and removes the gag from Grotus.

Silver Surfer: Silence Grotus until I...

Grotus: (speaking fast) Silence! Silence! Of course, I can be sodding silent. Why can't I be bleeding silent? You think I'm some kinda of idiot? You won't hear a peep from me. Nothing, absolutely nothing! I am schtum!! Quiet as a church mouse. Silent as a very silent thing. Nothing, that could be understood as an undertsandable word shall I speak, utter or give release to in any shape or form. May the heavens open up and thunderbolts strike me down were I to speak. Silence is what I say will be and silence is what will be. Besides, what could I say to the great Surfer? Indeed what could I? What should I say? Say to you? Say to me? Say to her! Say to him! Say to it!

Silver Surfer: Say to them!

Grotus: (Pause - as Grotus sizes up the Surfer - speaking very fast) By what chance of human thought could one engage the Surfer in conversation. Me a feeble-minded slug of a fracking koozee*-offspring! The miniscule brain of..
(*Koozee - a person, animal, android or other sentient household appliance willing to act as a sex-slave in return for gain, which can be monetary, food (common in Newcastle UK, as in 'she'll shag for a bag of chips!'), alcohol, drugs or even Arid Crystal-beetles.)

Silver Surfer: a humper-herder reared on steaming chuds!

Grotus: (Pause - as Grotus realises the Surfer is taking him on - talking very very fast) Where would I be? Where should I be? Sick to death of the meaningless panalopy of life's majestic veil, suffering the trials of a wretched life! Life for this, life for that, wife for this, wife for that, dog for this, dog for that,

Silver Surfer: dig for this, dog for that, pig for this, peg for that, pog for this, poo for that...

Grotus: poo pa pee, pee pee pee, poo poo poo, pa pa pa, hee hee he, ha hu ha,

Silver Surfer: hu hu, tu tu, du du, bu bu....


As we tear ourselves away from the stranded duelling duo, let us see what Mrs' G & D are up to.

Mrs G: Where's he bleeding gone to then? He's been ages!

Mrs D: I can't hang around here all eternity - I've got things I shouldn't be doing to get on with!

Mrs G: Hmm, I'd go look for him but what about them? (Indicating the purple turd of a Starship, pauses) We can't leave then in space - they'd be a danger to themselves and Surfy seems ever so keen on them.

Mrs D: I know, let's dump them on that planet - I don't want to spend all my days insect-watching!


Back in D-space.

Grotus: wick wack nick nack nacky noocky noonoo...

Silver Surfer: ...nanna neenee ee ee oo oo agagagaga gegegegegegege....

Grotus: songo songo sanga sanga sa, songo songo sanga singa soo...

Silver Surfer: ...ying yong yanga yang yo, ying yang yung yung ya...


On a dustball of a planet in the middle of a dusty plain, by the edge of a small stream, Bishop and the Baron are less than pleased with the new arrangements.

Baron Zemo: Vat do you mean ve can't go wid you? Dis is intolerable!

Bishop: Alright, pipe down ya sauerkraut! Ehm, ladies? beings?... ehm things...you can't leave us here.

Mrs G: I've made our mind up.

Mrs D: Yes we have - you must stay here until we return - we must find the Surfer.

Baron Zemo: But dis place ist sehr unhospitable!

Mrs G concentrates and the large starship is transformed into a large 50ft high....

Bishop: Umbrella? Are you serious? (They begin to float away.) What is this place?

Mrs G: (drifting upwards) Tehook-ra.

Bishop: We need water!

Mrs G: (far away & faint)...use the Cruise Rectal pump (pointing at the small stream)....


Back in D-space.

Grotus: sig a sig sig, sug swug soo, sa sa sa, se see

Silver Surfer: see see, saw, saw saw, sou sou sou, sayy aaayyy

Grotus: yeaaaa yeah, yeee yia, yia yia


Mrs G & Mrs D approach Celestial Prime.

Mrs G: Well, this is where he was looking for that Grotus person; so let's see if we can pick up his cosmic trail. You look from the south and I'll look from the north; come on we'd better be quick before his energy trail dissipates.

Mrs D: Dissipates? What ever do you mean?

Mrs G: Don't you know - dissipates! Weakens and disappears for good.

Mrs D: Oh, disappear, why didn't you say so dear. You shouldn't use such posh words.

Mrs G: That's not a posh word. It's quite common.

Mrs D: Oh, come off it, you're always throwing your airs and graces in my face; acting the high and mighty, with your 'la dee da' ways!

Mrs G: Oh you rotten galactic-humper - what a spiteful and evil thing to say! I never act snobbish!!

Mrs D: Oooooh you bare-faced liar. You're always banging on about your bleeding old man; 'a force of nature', 'the most feared being in the universe' - gawd, you never let up!

Mrs G: Oh, that's so unfair! It's not my fault he's got a good job!

Mrs D: There you go again, going on about his sodding job! It's not a great bleeding achievement eating planets, is it?? Oh, I don't know why I bother visiting you!


Meanwhile Bishop & The Baron are sitting in the shade of their personal 50ft golf-umberella.

Bishop: Tehook-ra eh? Hmm - I know where we are - I have friends here!

Baron Zemo: In dis place! Muzt be real bums! Who are dey?

Bishop:The Maji - good folks I've knocked around with on my travels.

Baron Zemo: More people like you? - dat's all I need! I'm sehr tehristy - vat de hell's a Kruise rektaal poomp?

The Cruise Rectal Pump was invented, quite by accident, by Thraal the Constipated on one of his annual visits to the riverbank. It had been a particularly difficult season for Thraal, much more fibre than even he was used to had created an immense dessicated mass of undigested fibres in his lower intestines.
After much straining and groaning the head of a gi-enormous turd had begun to peek from his well-oiled anus.
With tears streaming down his face, Thraal kept pushing and pushing and soon his scorching & tingling sphincter muscle was stretched beyond human or alien endurance; but still the reluctant and shy turd refused to leave. With one last mighty push Thraal managed to evacuate the dead-baby-crocodile-like-object. However, nature abhors a vacumn and, with his bottom resting comfortably in the soothing river-water, the space in his lower rectum was soon filled with a fierce rush of water. So sudden and large was the rush of water and so distended his sphincter that the incoming-water gained a critical tidal-wave threshold and, much to Thraal's suprise, kept on rushing up and in, searching for an outlet. Onwards and ever onwards seeking an outlet. After a complicated and cleansing route, the water emerged in a great shower from his mouth - Thraal had just created the first Rectal Pump!
People soon noticed this bio-solution to their pumping needs was far superier than the old fashioned mechanical devices which had been so prone to malfunction and regular servicing. Soon all their water needs were serviced by a row of old constipated men, breathing through their noses, with their arses hanging in the water.
Water extracted using the Cruise Rectal pump is said by many Gourmet Guides to be quaintly rustic, others have argued they, and the water, is full of shit. Incidentally, the Cruise Rectal Pump is so named in honour of the Earth Omega-celebrity Tom Cruise; who, though by no means possessing the largest rectal suction force, is considered by many, to be the finest, and without doubt, the biggest arsehole in the universe.

Back in D-space, the Surfer and Grotus are wearing themselves out.

Grotus: skawaaaaneee

Silver Surfer: skawaaa wey wey

Grotus:(Pause) tib tob tib tib

Silver Surfer: tibby tibby toby toby to to tutu

Grotus:(2 pauses) mooola

Silver Surfer: maaaaala

Grotus:(3 pauses) up

Silver Surfer: ip (4 pauses) You quite finished? (Holding up hand) Don't answer - just nod if you know how to get out of here! (Grotus reluctantly and slowly - nods his head).


Mrs G & Mrs D are still discussing the finer points about their respective husbands.

Mrs G: It's not our fault your old man never amounted to anything.

Mrs D: Oooh that's a rotten thing to say. You know he's sensative about that!

Mrs G: He's bleeding sensative about every sodding thing, his face, his weight, his stupid place in life...

Mrs D: His wife? His wife? How dare you?

Mrs G: Life! I said life you stupid cloth-eared drooggie-droppings!

Mrs D: (Pause) Well, that's alright then! I thought you were insulting me - I'm not putting up with that!

Mrs G: Can we get on?

Mrs D: On where?

Mrs G: Finding my slave!

Mrs D: Oh him! Why didn't you say - his energy trail leads over there!


Back on Tehook-ra, the Baron sees something glinting in the distance...

Baron Zemo: Vat's dat?

Bishop: Fergetit! Let's just stay here!

Baron Zemo: Nein - I vill only be ein minuten!

The Baron walks off into the distance towards the glinting object. He bends down and picks up the object, examines it closely and then starts jumping and shouting in joy.

Baron Zemo: Oh my Gott! Dis ist too gut to be true! Deemunds! Deeamunds everywhere! Look look!

Bishop reluctantly walks over as the Baron starts frantically searching the desert ground.

Bishop: Shit, these sure look like diamonds.

Baron Zemo: I'm rich I'm rich! (Stuffing his pockets with the diamonds and running further into the distance) I'm rich! I'm rich!

Bishop: Hey, come back! We're supposed to stay put. Man, what a poopang!

Baron Zemo: (Distant shouting) Ve can not get lost wid that ting over der? (Pointing at the umbrella)


Back in D-space.
Silver Surfer: I can't speed out of here, can I? Just shake your head! (Grotus shakes his head) So I can't leave that way but if I entered then how did I achieve that? (Thinks) No, don't speak. If I push out I am only acting within the pre-concepts of normal space and those don't apply here. So if the converse applies, then to leave it I must..not push out...but......push in? Push in! Push in! Is that it? (Grotus smiles slowly and nods his head in agreement) Right, come here board, let's try something!


In the deserts of Tehook-ra, a reluctant Bishop trails behind an excited Baron Zemo who's bugling pockets still haven't satisfied his diamond-lust.

Bishop: Look you've got enough, come on let's go back!

Baron Zemo: Nein, nein, just a few more. (Bending down with difficulty to pick up a few more large diamonds) Besides, vat are you vorried aboot? Die umberella ist over der, just behind dat dune! (Indicating left)

Bishop: No, yer wrong ye cross-eyed poolang it's over there! (Indicating right)

Baron Zemo: Nein, nein, look (climbing slowly) der it....(falls silent when he sees a vista of sand dunes) ah, I muzt be mistaken - you're are right my freund. It muzt be dat vay!


In D-space the Surfer, with his board and Grotus squashed together, is sucking the cosmic energy from D-space, forcing everything down to a single point.

In deep-space Mrs G & Mrs D have found where the Surfer's energy trail ends.

Mrs G: What there?

Mrs D: Yes, dear! Right there!

Mrs G: Are you sure? Let me have a look.

Both deities peer into the spot. Meanwhile the crushing effect of the retro-cosmic energy suction starts to work and suddenly...

Silver Surfer & Grotus: (Bursting out with Grotus on his board) Aaaghhh!

Mrs G: Aaagh! You scared the bleeding life out of me - bursting out unannounced!

Silver Surfer: My apologies ladies - there was no way to warn you. But good news - I've found Grotus! (Mrs' G & D are less than impressed.) Ehm, (looking around) where're the others?

Mrs D: Oh, them! We had to leave them behind - but don't worry, I'm sure they're safe.


Bishop: We're lost! You stupid freaking kraut! I'll be sure to place those diamonds around yer fucking gravestone!

Baron Zemo: Nein, nein. Don't worry - we vill soon find ou vay out of here. Und den! I vill be de richest man in der welt! So nicht be worrying yourself mit diese kleine problems....Vas? Vas ist loss? Someting is nicht right? Someting is happening in my leder-hosen! Argh!! Hilfe, hilfe! (He falls to the ground and rolls around. He starts to scream as the diamonds start to crawl out of his pockets and flutter away.) Nein, nein! Hilfe meir! (With his pockets empty the Baron jumps up and starts to chase after the flying diamonds but, alas they are out of his reach and flutter away - he starts chasing after them). Kommen sie herein, meine kleine deemunds! Kommen sie herein!! (Chasing them into the far distance).

Bishop: Bugs! He's been collecting Crystal-bugs! What a poolang!