Fill-In-The-Blank Game!

[Sam91]

She saw the Sphinx's concealed hurt reaction and decided to help him out.

'Here' and punched him once but with all her might. Her hand cracked but so did the beautiful nose that she'd sculpted.

Blood dripped from the nose and she cried with pain herself. Looking at her crumpled hand....

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

She realised she was becoming somewhat more manly herself.

'There!' explained the good doctor, gently petting her crumpled hand affirmingly. 'Doesn't it feel good to be manly?'

'Not so much, no,' Sam91 answered, honestly.

'Well, I guess you're right about that', explained the Doctor. 'But doesn't it look good to be manly?'

'Not really, no,' answered Sam91 honestly again, looking first at her own crumpled hand, then at the Doctor's broken nose, now dripping with blood.

'Well, okay, I'll give you that also,' agreed the Doctor. 'But doesn't being so manly command the respect of those who see us?'

Sam91 looked at Mr H, who had such a frown on his face, that she would have believed he would have called the nearest asylum on the duo, had the ship been anywhere near a port. 'Sadly Doctor Sphinx', Sam91 replied, 'manliness such as this doesn't even command respect.'

The Doctor nodded, realising that his friend spoke the truth. 'Look Sam91', he explained coyly, 'I've had this medallion minted for me, but I need some sort of authorisation for it, before it becomes official.'

He handed her a golden medallion, and she noticed it was engraved with the body of a beautiful woman. 'A little too beautiful', she thought crossly, noticing the unnecessary attention to detail for certain features. But before she could scold the Sphinx, she turned the coin over, and the shock of the verbiage there made her forget her anger.

'An Honourary Woman Medallion?' she asked incredulously.

 

[Sam91]

She took the medallion and placed it with her own and threw them both over the perimeter of the ship to the doctors distaste.

'God created you as a man and myself as a lady. Why should we try to become what we are not but thank the Lord for His wisdom?'

The Sphinx began with '1 timothy 2:12...'

 

[Sam91]

But stopped very quickly when he noticed @LaSorcia approaching rapidly, safety scissors still in her hand.

Sam91 was a little concerned with her friends obsession with carrying said implements. She wondered if she might prefer a micro-guilotine, or even a scalpel. Safety scissors were not the most effective cutting tool on the market.

She would have to check to see if DSI had a Christmas sale on, or if it had updated its shipping policy yet. A scalpel would be a great Christmas present afterall.

The good doctor smiled at Sam91's thought processes and shrugged at her naivety. He was still concerned about the probability of a misfortune having happened to the Captain and was starting to question if they would ever make it to the poop-deck.

'LaSorcia, what are you doing with those scissors?' Sam 91 asked but laSorcia mumbled to herself and rushed away below deck.

Sam91 felt Mr H still watching her and decided to play on it a little.

'Doctor S, do you think you would like to become a feature of my museum on your death? I am thinking of the possibility reopening it and a stuffed Sphinx would be an ideal attraction.'

The Good Doctor beamed, confirming Mr H's suspicion that they were infact both crazy...

 

[Sam91]

The three recommenced their journey to the poopdeck to the good doctor's relief.

'Sphinxy, why would you even want to become an honourary woman?' Said Sam91.

He stopped, stomach feeling like a ton of bricks were falling down a very long chasm. He slowly turned around to face her and said
'Well you seem to have a nice, cushy situation going on. Less responsibility, people willing to defend your honour. Just look at Mr H here and what he did to my nose, just on your say so.'

'So you would be willing to give up your male priviledge just for that? Do you not know the pressures of being female? The best of us ladies... if we are Christian at least, are not even to teach the worst of you men. We could be spiritually fervant, educated, but not to teach the most laziest among you; even to save him from sin. According to what men seem to think anyway. You could handle that?

If you were married and had watched the children all day, cleaned the house, listened to whining children, not had a chance to even speak to an adult all week because they have chickenpox but you still cooked your husband a lovely dinner. Then when you had finished the dishes thinking you had finally finished your days work, he asks you for another coffee and to go iron a certain shirt. The just when you think you can get a chat with him and the first chance to rest all day, he announces he is going to his friend's house to watch the boxing. You would like that? Please bear in mind that he, and the rest of your church expect you to be a good Christian woman and submit. You should take it on the chin and remain gentle, loving, kind and cheerful. If you really must complain you should go and pray instead. Ask to be made more patient and giving, rather than a nagging wife. Remember the proverbs against a nagging wife. You would really trade your male priviledge for that?

The next day you finally get a chance to go to housegroup because he doesn't fancy going and they ask you if he is babysitting the kids for you as if he is doing you a favour. Don't forget to smile and agree meekly that he is such a good man for doing that. When you do it most weeks with no one commenting on how good you are babysitting his children. You would really be able to tolerate that?

I seem to remember your very sexist speech when you gave me the honourary male medallion. In fact, to be male was the only way you would accept me as an heir! I seem to remember that you called us brainless too'

The Sphinx remembered why he had avoided the company of women over the millennia. Modern women were worse, they seemed to feel entitled. Mr H looked at him expectantly for an answer, waiting to see if the Sphinx was going to put Sam91 back in her place and cuff her to the kitchen sink, or if the the Dr would suffer anhilation.

'Well, Samantha, you are looking at the new and improved, Dr Sphinx the campaigner for women's suffrage!' The good doc could not believe what he just said. Surely not. Was Sam91 bewitching him, is this why women weren't to teach?

'Really Sphinxy?' Sam91 smiled, doing mini jumps of jubilation on the spot.

'Why, er yes! Of course! Do you take me to be a double-minded man? Cast about like the waves at sea? I said it, I mean it. Now let's find the Captain. He is no longer going to be resting and having you women cleaning up after him, while he lies back with his boots on the table.'

Mr H did not know what to think...

 

[Sam91]

As the three were about to resume the never ending journey to the poopdeck Captain @DavidFirth waltzed down the corridor. Yes, he positively waltzed. Why? This narrator knows not, but we never did find out why Mr H had seen the Captain's face in the poopdeck floor, nor why @LaSorcia has taken to running around lately with safety scissors aloft. Maybe, somethings are better left unsaid.

'@Sam91! Just the person I was looking for. Please accompany me to my desk. I need to talk to you about your recent stocktake and those rather miserly projections. Surely it is not time to begin rationing?'

Sam91 followed the captain. Mr H, had the opportunity to try to understand one riddle of the Sphinx.

'Doctor Sphinx! What was the meaning of becoming a campaigner for women's equality?'

'Mr H, my good chef, I have absolutely no idea what came over me. I wonder if this is how Adam ended up eating that apple! She must have deployed some kind of witchcraft. Although, Samantha is too good to have done it deliberately.' He replied, while worrying internally about whether Sam91 was not infact a wolf in sheeps clothing, however he knew better than to go further and liken her to Jezebel. Whatever she had done, he would forgive her and pray for her. It must have been unintentional.

'Hmmm' Mr H thought. 'Paul was quite correct when he said "I do not permit a woman to teach". I shall never doubt that verse again. So how are you going to backtrack on your word?'

The good Dr S paled. 'Mr H, remember the story you told me about what they do to bull's in your homeland when they get a little too manly? You didn't tell Sam91 did you?'

'I did, we were talking of beef ribs and then my days being a rancher. You don't think she would surgically alter you do you?' Said the appalled Mr H.

The doctor paled further. 'One never knows where they stand with Sam91. She once injured me with her guilotine and reattached my toes. She operated on my brain without permission. Threatened to remove eyes, circumcise my heart. I do not underestimate her one bit. Will you assist me in a mission?..'

'To liberate her tools and hide them until the storm settles?' Mr H guessed, nodding in agreement if this was to be the mission.

Someone sniggered....

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

but was interrupted by Sam91's accusation. 'Mr H, you did not tell me about your ranch!'

'Oh', said Mr H, 'I must have confused you with someone else, which is strange, as I must have been blind, deaf and stupid to do so.'

'I want to know about your ranch,' insisted Sam91. 'Don't stall.'

'Well,' said Mr H to Sam91, 'Have you ever wondered whether our friend is troubled by something similar to the insidious, yet-strangely-delicious, Rocky Mountain Oyster?''

Sam91 shook her head. 'Rocky Mountain Oyster. I've never heard of it. What's that?'

'Well, back where I come from, our bulls were troubled for years by these strange creatures. The males seemed to get infected with Rocky Mountain Oysters before birth, but the ill effects of the oysters really started taking effect around puberty, when the bulls started becoming rowdy, aggressive, unsympathetic to cows and generally very difficult to deal with. You can imagine what difficulty a raging bull can cause a cowboy like me.'

Sam91 looked at the partly-intolerable-but-pretty-boy-faced cowboy and nodded. She could imagine what difficulty a raging cow could cause a cowboy like Mr H, let alone a raging bull.

'How did you know the males were infected?' LaSorcia asked.

'You could tell', explained the cowboy. 'The oysters would burrow their way just below the bull's skin, but grow larger and larger with age, where they became more and more noticable as being present, as the skin burrowed into would dangle beneath the bull with the weight of the oysters. The larger the oysters got, the crazier the poor bulls were driven.'

Sam91 nodded understandingly. Doctor Sphinx scowled at the potential interruption to his scheme.

'And females didn't get infected?' asked Sam91.

Mr H shook his head.

'Couldn't you cure them?', ask Sam91. 'I think if I had a bull as one of my patients, I would simply use a scalpel to gain access to these parasites, and remove them one by one.'

Mr H beamed. 'I think you would make an excellent cow-girl, Sam91, because that suggestion is very similar to the one someone finally tried. Probably someone smart, clever and pretty like you.'

Sam91 blinked at the unexpected compliment. She was used to being called smart and clever, but pretty was a new one. She was about to scold Mr H for his lack of propriety, when she saw the dark scowl of the doctor, and decided to play along and smile instead.

'Anyway,' continued Mr H, 'removing Rocky Mountain Oysters from a bull before he reached puberty worked so well, that pretty soon, everyone was doing it. It was good for the bone structure of the meat, it was good for the bull's behaviour...'

'Are bulls used for anything but meat?' asked Sam91.

'Sadly, no,' explained the cowboy. 'Like most species, the male is the most useless of the genders. The cows will produce young, give milk, and generally do all the work around the farm, without being in the least bit nasty. They even look prettier. The only use of the bull is to give meat, and even this they couldn't do politely - until we discovered the secret of de-oystering'.

'I guess at least they give meat,' noted Sam91. 'Male humans don't even do that.'

'Well, with the discovery of the benefits of de-oystering', continued Mr H enthusiastically, pretty soon, the whole land was filling up with Rocky Mountain Oysters.'

'Ewww. I bet it was horrible,' commented Sam91. 'All those parasites around.'

'At first yes. But then someone else had an idea. He or she tried to cook these Rocky Mountain Oysters, and they were delicious!'

'Hooray!' said Sam91. 'So now bulls can serve two purposes, almost as many as the cows have had all along.'

'That's right,' said Mr H. 'Like in man, the female role is still more important, but at least with cows, the males are trying to be useful.'

'If only we could find some way to make men more useful like that', sighed Sam91.

Mr H nodded understandingly. 'It must be very difficult being a woman', he acknowledged sympathetically.

'Yes,' agreed Sam91. 'Especially when so many men are so obnoxious. Does the bull behaviour really change much after the oysters are removed?'

'Oh yes', explained the cowboy. 'The bulls become less rowdy, less aggressive, and like to do what they're told. We consider a de-oystered bull so different from an oyster-afflicted bull, that we call them by different names. A de-oystered bull is called a steer, because you can easily drive it wherever you want.'

'Well, that's interesting.' answered Sam91. 'And you wonder whether our friend Doctor Sphinx has a similar ailment to what your bulls had, with these Rocky Mountain Oysters?' asked Sam91.

'Very much so,' explained the cowboy. 'He is showing the classic signs - rowdiness, aggression, lack of sympathy to lady-folk, particularly yourself, male chauvinism...'

'Yes!' exclaimed Sam91 excitedly. 'Even I've noticed his male chauvinism, by his arguments against Deborah being Israel's leader on another thread. I know males aren't as smart as females, but I'm sure even he could get this if he tried. I really think he is suffering from these oyster parasites!'

'Now wait a minute!' interrupted the Doctor worriedly. 'I may be a jerk from time to time, but I don't suffer from Rocky Mountain Oysters or anything similar.'

'Doctor!' scolded Sam91 firmly. 'Last I checked, I am the surgeon, Mr H clearly has expertise in this field, and you, without shadow of a doubt, are a chauvinist. Please don't let male pride impede the advancement of scientific progress... or the advancement of women', she added smugly. 'Is there any way we can confirm the diagnosis?' added Sam91 to Mr H.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour on this occasion, the doctor finally beat a hasty retreat.

'I think perhaps it would be helpful if you could see how we resolve this problem first hand,' explained Mr H first. 'We're always having a Rocky Mountain Oyster festival or two in my home town. I'm sure you could learn a thing or two.'

'I'm sure I probably could teach you a thing or two, also', added Sam91, already dreaming of a design for an automated cure for Rocky Mountain Oysters.

'So that's a yes?' asked Mr H.

'Yes,' exclaimed Sam91 definitively. 'We really need to cure the doctor's chauvinism, and if nothing else, I'm sure I'll have a ball at the festival.'

'I'll be disappointed if we travel all that way and you only have one,' answered Mr H.

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

Meanwhile, the Doctor, in the process of escaping the terrors of Mr H's home country and Sam91's encouragement of the same, took refuge on the poop-deck. He could deal with reattached toes, an operated-on-brain, even the odd heart-circumcision from time to time when he got too proud, providing Sam91 always used the sterilised equipment, which of course, he presumed she always did. The proposed eye-removal had been a bit much, but he'd fortunately taken care of her orbital extrication device to cure her from offering this remedy.

However, there was something sinister about Mr H making his accusation about the Doctor contracting some sort of parasite - 'Rocky Mountain Oysters' he had called them (or RMOs, for short). And not sinister in a good way, like Sam91. There was something about the apparent simplicity of the cure that took away the Doctor's breath, made his hands cold and clammy, and his face white.

'Aha! I've caught you, disgusting poop-deck desecrator!' the booming voice of Captain Firth called out.

Doctor Sphinx started from his hiding place on the poop-deck, and spun around, alarmed and bewildered. There, lying strategically along the poop-deck, the Doctor could see that someone had installed a large, flat-screen TV. On the TV screen was the face and upper body of Captain Firth, larger than life. The Captain did not look very happy.

'I had this screen especially installed so I could catch the filthy crew-members who were taking liberties on the poop-deck!' announced DavidFirth triumphantly.

'But Captain, I was doing no wrong. I just came here to escape the accusations and unwanted cures offered by Mr H,' explained the doctor.

'Oh, he's a doctor also?' boomed the big-screen-TV-sized DavidFirth, looking somewhat impressed.

'No, not unless you consider removing parasites from bulls some sort of medicine,' explained the doctor.

'Mmmmmmm. Healthy ribs,' the Captain commented, licking his lips whilst thinking about bull steaks. 'I shall have to deal more kindly with the mysterious Mr H.'

'Doctor Sphinx, we have two sagas of international importance that I need you to resolve.'

'Oh,' said Doctor Sphinx. 'What's the first one?'

'Well,' explained the Captain, 'I kept two family heirlooms here in my cabin. The first was from my great, great grand-pappy, and was given to him the time he captained a vessel around a particularly tricky part of the coast. It was a medallion entitled "Honourary Man Medallion", and had something in Latin on it. I suppose it meant that he was very honoured or something. Well, it's gone missing.'

'Ah', said Doctor Sphinx awkwardly. 'Perhaps it got dropped into the ocean somehow?'

'Impossible!' exclaimed the Captain angrily. 'I always keep it here in my drawer. And I suspect it was stolen, because the medallion given to my great, great grand mama is likewise missing. It's gold, and on it is written "Honourary Woman Medallion". I think she received for surviving several years of marriage to my great, great grand-pappy.'

'Ah,' said Doctor Sphinx again, awkwardly. 'Perhaps Mr H had something to do with the thefts?'

'The second issue,' explained the somewhat-portly Captain, 'is that there's been international outrage since you and Sam91 converted that Flying Spaghetti Monster to Judaism.'

'What can possibly be wrong with that?' asked Doctor Sphinx indignantly. 'Besides, it was Christine40 who did most of the converting. Sam91 just offered her a yarmulke, and I watched the episode from a safe distance.'

'Well,' explained the Captain, 'There is outage amongst the Atheistic Society. They claim they invented their Flying Spaghetti Monster in order to have a religion and a god in their own image, and now you've made that monster Jewish, they feel somewhat orphaned. They claim it would've have been better if you had killed their goddess, rather than converted her.'

At that moment, Sam91 arrived on the poop-deck, Mr H following close behind. 'Captain!' exclaimed Sam91 excitedly...

 

[Sam91]

'Guess what?' Not waiting for the Captain to guess, she continued 'Mr H wants to take me to his home town! I can't wait, I'll get to see bulls, horses, dancing. He says we should get married for propriety sake but I have a better idea. Will you come and perform your captainly duty and be a chaperone. Please say yes! Please come.'

The Captain looked solemnly. 'While I commend you for at least asking this time rather than going AWOL, or dragging me along without gaining consent, I can not perform that role.

Unfortunately, precious heirlooms have vanished and I need to fix the spaghetti monter fiasco. Doctor Sphinx will accompany you and to keep him in check @LaSorcia will attend. You are in luck, Christine 40 is awaiting her helicopter ride home. I am sure you could share that with her.

God bless your travels. I want you back in a week this time. Get packing.'

The Sphinx

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

Doctor Sphinx was aghast. That scheming, plotting, intolerable, pretty-boy-faced cowboy fellow had proposed marriage to his potential heir. This would never have happened had Sam91 kept her honourary man medallion, he thought to himself grumpily. He wondered if perhaps he should have done things differently. Possibly performed some elective surgery on her face - an abnormal-but-amusingly-shaped verucca on her forehead, for instance. Things like that tended to make cowboys more shy to propose.

He hardly had time to consider the scheming Mr H's plans, and the possibility Mr H might deliberately infect him with these RMOs. 'It could even be that the cure is worse than the disease, and Mr H is awaiting that moment to strike', he thought grimly to himself.

But his thoughts were interrupted by a bear hug from his favourite potential heir. One or two of his bones cracked as if to break, before she stopped, but he noted she was almost dancing!

'Oh, thank you Doctor Sphinx!' Sam91 exclaimed. 'Who better than you to be chaperone for us on our journey. I know I can rely on my good friend Sphinxy'.

'Errrr. Are you sure you want to go, Sam91? These cowboy folk are little more than savages,' commented Doctor Sphinx unkindly. 'And what about parasites? If those RMOs infect the bulls so, what might they do to you?'

'Oh, Sphinxy, you worry too much,' exclaimed Sam91, her spirits unable to be dampened. 'I haven't agreed to marry the cowboy. I am just interested to see his home in Severance, Colorado. As for the parasites, they only infect males, so I think I'm safe since I threw that HMM in the ocean!' she giggled.

'Shhhhhhhh!' Doctor Sphinx whispered. 'Don't mention the HMM in front of the Captain.'

Sam91 seemed not even to notice the Doctor's words. 'And there'll be dancing, horse-riding, bull-fighting, cowboy hats...' Sam91's eyes positively beamed.

Doctor Sphinx understood there would be no talking sense to her, and grudgingly boarded Christine40's helicopter. LaSorcia likewise looked fairly grim, as she followed after the Doctor. If the Doctor was deflated to have to go to Mr H's hometown, LaSorcia was positively depressed to look after the mad Doctor.

 

[Sam91]

@Dirk1540 @joyshirley @gennypearl @*LILAC @Tom Farebrother @Spikey @Lost4words @GreenWizard and the rest rejoiced inwardly that the attention seeking, limelight grabbing, rowdy pair were off on their travels. They felt they were going to miss @LaSorcia dreadfully but were glad to be able to relax about those scissors. The number of near misses in the last few days had been rising rapidly.

None felt so relieved as the Captain. Bearing the burden of responsibilty for the remaining crew members would be much easier. He had a sneaky suspicion that all troubles trace back to the Sphinx but hoped that he was wrong. However, with five less stomachs to feed maybe they might reach port before having to start rationing food supplies.

As Samantha tired of listening to the endless conversation between the sphinx and the actually-became-quite-tolerable-but-now-not-so-much Mr H, she looked at @LaSorcia's safety scissors. She wondered if they were sharp enough to excise tongues. The continual posturing between the pair was tiring and mindnumbingly boring.

'But shun profane and vain babblings: for they will increase unto more ungodliness- 2 timothy 2:16' said Samantha tormentedly.

'But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence. 1 timothy 2:12' retorted the pompous Doc.

'Technically, Sam91 is not teaching. She is stating scripture' Said the kind hearted Mr H.

'All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: 2 timothy 3:16-17' Smirked Sam91 to Dr S.

'If the lady wore the appropriate yarmulke I wouldn't object but....' He stopped noticing laSorcia's stare. Out from her bag she produced the uno cards, knowing how to quiet the Sphinx...

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

The four CF stars and Mr H were silent now, except for the odd exclamation of 'Uno!' Sam91 wondered whether it was because Doctor Sphinx was scared of saying something that was actually worse than mind-numbingly boring, or whether he was just concentrating harder on his cheating this time.

She had managed to obtain one of the two window seats in the helicopter, and Doctor Sphinx had insisted on sitting on her right side. "For propriety's sake" he had explained, whilst frowning at Mr H. La Sorcia was sitting in the center, in order to closely watch Doctor Sphinx. Christine40 was squeezed between LaSorcia and Mr H, who had taken the other window seat.

Doctor Sphinx had already explained to the pilot that 'the CF crew were assembled in order of greatest to least importance from left to right', so 'if the helicopter started to crash, would he be so kind as to crash more to the right side', and 'if the right- most seated of the passengers died in said crash, it wouldn't be so great a concern, and there might even be a small reward'. In fact, Doctor Sphinx had even volunteered the 4 stars and Mr H for a live drill to practice such a situation, but the helicopter pilot had declined his offer with a concerned frown.

Unable to bear the silent-save-for-the-odd-exclamation-of-'Uno!' situation anymore, Doctor Sphinx burst out 'Sam91! How could you think I was mind numbingly boring?'

Sam91 looked at the Doctor. She couldn't give a proper stare, because everyone was seated so close together in Christine40's tiny helicopter, but the stare she did give seemed to say 'So Doctor, you've been reading my thoughts, once again! Why am I still surprised?'

However, what she answered aloud was, 'Do you remember the Green Wizard?'

The Doctor smiled and nodded. 'Of course I remember the Green Leprechaun. He used to love stinkweed, and had an unpleasant scent.'

'And when was the last time you saw him?'

'Oh', answered the Doctor. 'Yes, he has been awfully quiet of late. I wonder where he's got to?'

'Do you think it could have something to do with his mind being numb, and boredom, and tiring of the same?' answered Sam91.

The Doctor suddenly realised where this was leading, and didn't like it one bit.

'Look, leprechauns come and leprechauns go. Probably contracted something from the lack of personal hygiene, and had to go home to mom.'

'So what about Genny Pearl?' asked Sam91. 'Was she a leprechaun also?'

'Oh', said the Doctor defensively. 'Well, she always did like to follow that malodorous little gnome about. I suppose they found somewhere quiet on the boat?'

'Well, how about *Lilac?' Sam91 asked.

'She just got offended when I told her that the colour purple wasn't my favourite!' exclaimed the Sphinx.

'Tom Farebrother?' the astute, yarmulke-wearing ex-taxidermist continued.

'Now you're just making up names,' said the Doctor, trying to put face to name. 'Was he some sort of monk?'

'And Lost4Words?'

'You can't blame me for Lost4Words! You were going to circumcise his heart! The poor animal was terrified he'd stumbled across something akin to an Aztec cult!'

'I think you'll remember that he stuck around after that, until you killed off his cat, and laid down the law about artistic licence,' retorted Sam91, with a sharpness pointier than the device she'd considered using to improve Lost4Words heart.

The Doctor waved a hand dismissively, which is a difficult thing to do in a cramped helicopter without intruding on the personal space of others, and LaSorcia gave him a cold stare, which was noticed by all bar the Doctor.

'Okay. So I drove Lost4Words away. It was an accident. I'm sorry,' he apologised unapologetically.

'And Dirk1940?' continued Sam91

'He was wearing a tutu!' laughed the Doctor. 'How can I respect a man who has no respect for himself?'

'JoyShirley?'

'Polynesians!' retorted the Doctor. 'And Uncle Tom's cabin! Don't you see that what I did, however unpalettable, I did for the best? Now she's probably having the time of her life somewhere else in the galaxy and starring on the longest-running children's sci-fi series in history'.

'Phil Stein?'

'Phil Stein was from the future. Presumably, that's where he went back to, after our escape from Narnia,' explained the Doctor, but Sam91 could now see there were traces of guilt in his eyes.

'Spikey?'

'Atheist!' cried the Doctor. 'He probably just got upset when we converted the Flying Spaghetti Monster to a more traditional religion.'

'DavidFirth?'

'David Firth has allowed us on this mission with his blessing. You can't blame me for driving him away.'

'All the same, he has been awfully quiet of late', Sam91 noted.

'Christine40...'

'Hey! Now I did not drive Christine40 away. She's right here with us in the helicopter...' the Doctor continued defensively.

'No', interrupted Sam91, 'Christine40, I think we're coming up to your home. Are you ready to dismount?'

Christine40...

 

[Sam91]

hastily stopped scribbling in her thick notebook and stuffed it into her bag. She hugged @LaSorcia and shook hands with Mr H.

She held both of Sam91's hands and said a fond farewell, promising that she would pass on Sam 91's regards to her family. She did a seated dive from the helicopter and parachuted to land. The good doc watched with admiration and a sense of sadness at the oversight. Sam91 was far too kind to point it out.

'Dr S, why do you think she visited? Do you not find it wierd that she spent so much time writing?'

'Samantha, how quickly you forget. She was not always writing. She valiantly fought that spaghetti monster while you were relaxing. A great woman is @christine40 I would definitely consider her for an heir but I do not think that it would fit in with her other duties.'

Sam91, always wanting to be the best felt a little wounded at this but thankfully someone had closed the chopper's doors already. The Sphinx would live to fight any would-be Philistines another day.

'Are we nearly there yet?' Asked the partially-tolerable-although-very-useful-when-wanting-to-antagonise-a-friend Mr H whiningly.

'Yes, in about 45minutes we will reach your hometown.' Murmered laSorcia, sharpening her hedgetrimmers. Sam91 smiled approvingly at the upgrade.

The good Doctor

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

suddenly let out a cry!

'I can see the Captain's likeness in that object on the horizon.'

The other crew members strained to look. 'That's not the Captain's face,' answered Sam91. 'It's a sewage processing facility...'

'In some sort of pit', added LaSorcia, disapprovingly.

Mr H laughed good naturedly. 'You're all wrong. That's neither a sewage processing facility, a pit, or the good Captain, David Firth. No ladies and gentleman, that is my home town of Severance!'

Sam91 let out an excited squeal, and LaSorcia gave a few celebratory snips whilst running with her hedge trimmers, which for the duration of the trip, had been the cause of some concern to both Mr H and Doctor Sphinx. Sam91 noted that Doctor Sphinx had turned a whiter pale than she had yet seen. She secretly wondered if there had been some information from his past that he'd withheld about Mr H, or Severance, or something else so secret that she didn't even know the subject.

As the helicopter landed, Doctor Sphinx commenced a speech that he had prepared earlier. 'Now, Sam91, I must remind you again, you don't have to come to Severance just because...'

However, before he could continue, he noticed with some consternation that the other 3 had already disembarked. He begrudgingly and anxiously disembarked himself, trying to hide a little behind Sam91, but reminding himself from time to time that he was also her chaperone, and might need to present a bolder face, were the situation to worsen.

'Well, that's a strange sign indeed', Sam91 remarked to LaSorcia. '"Severance - where the geese fly, and the bulls cry". I wonder whatever could it mean?'

'Obviously, it means that this place is a dank, filthy hole, and any animal that has half a brain and a pair of wings will fly away. Unfortunately for the bulls, being wingless, they are trapped here, and so they're the ones who are crying,' explained Doctor Sphinx condescendingly. 'Really Sam91, I would have expected you to have realised that from the state of this place.'

'Well, how about the name Severance?' she asked. 'That's kind of a strange name for a place.'

'Well, again Sam91, Severance is simply a word to describe the state of having been "cut off", so clearly, this two-bit town of hicks has been cut off from the rest of mankind since before Charles Darwin invented his tall tale of evolutionism,' the Doctor continued pompously. 'Probably, if his theory even were true, from before monkeys turned into men,' he added rudely.

'Oh, I'm sorry Doctor. I didn't realise that this was your home town also, given that you know so much about it,' replied Sam91, feigning innocence.

LaSorcia unsuccessfully tried to hide a smirk as the Doctor blustered on about 'not having known anything about Severance', and certainly 'never having visited such a town of hicks in all his 3000+ years', but with 'simple devices such as logic and mathematics, some facts could be extracted even from the signs and communications of simpletons'.

Several cowboys tipped their hats at LaSorcia as she continued to jog with her hedge trimmers. The Doctor even wondered whether someone might have given her a wolf-whistle, but he reminded himself that he was Sam91's chaperone, not LaSorcia's.

Mr H, meanwhile, who previously had remained strangely quiet...

 

[Sam91]

suddenly let out a cry!

'I can see the Captain's likeness in that object on the horizon.'

The other crew members strained to look. 'That's not the Captain's face,' answered Sam91. 'It's a sewage processing facility...'

'In some sort of pit', added LaSorcia, disapprovingly.

Mr H laughed good naturedly. 'You're all wrong. That's neither a sewage processing facility, a pit, or the good Captain, David Firth. No ladies and gentleman, that is my home town of Severance!'

Sam91 let out an excited squeal, and LaSorcia gave a few celebratory snips whilst running with her hedge trimmers, which for the duration of the trip, had been the cause of some concern to both Mr H and Doctor Sphinx. Sam91 noted that Doctor Sphinx had turned a whiter pale than she had yet seen. She secretly wondered if there had been some information from his past that he'd withheld about Mr H, or Severance, or something else so secret that she didn't even know the subject.

As the helicopter landed, Doctor Sphinx commenced a speech that he had prepared earlier. 'Now, Sam91, I must remind you again, you don't have to come to Severance just because...'

However, before he could continue, he noticed with some consternation that the other 3 had already disembarked. He begrudgingly and anxiously disembarked himself, trying to hide a little behind Sam91, but reminding himself from time to time that he was also her chaperone, and might need to present a bolder face, were the situation to worsen.

'Well, that's a strange sign indeed', Sam91 remarked to LaSorcia. '"Severance - where the geese fly, and the bulls cry". I wonder whatever could it mean?'

'Obviously, it means that this place is a dank, filthy hole, and any animal that has half a brain and a pair of wings will fly away. Unfortunately for the bulls, being wingless, they are trapped here, and so they're the ones who are crying,' explained Doctor Sphinx condescendingly. 'Really Sam91, I would have expected you to have realised that from the state of this place.'

'Well, how about the name Severance?' she asked. 'That's kind of a strange name for a place.'

'Well, again Sam91, Severance is simply a word to describe the state of having been "cut off", so clearly, this two-bit town of hicks has been cut off from the rest of mankind since before Charles Darwin invented his tall tale of evolutionism,' the Doctor continued pompously. 'Probably, if his theory even were true, from before monkeys turned into men,' he added rudely.

'Oh, I'm sorry Doctor. I didn't realise that this was your home town also, given that you know so much about it,' replied Sam91, feigning innocence.

LaSorcia unsuccessfully tried to hide a smirk as the Doctor blustered on about 'not having known anything about Severance', and certainly 'never having visited such a town of hicks in all his 3000+ years', but with 'simple devices such as logic and mathematics, some facts could be extracted even from the signs and communications of simpletons'.

Several cowboys tipped their hats at LaSorcia as she continued to jog with her hedge trimmers. The Doctor even wondered whether someone might have given her a wolf-whistle, but he reminded himself that he was Sam91's chaperone, not LaSorcia's.

Mr H, meanwhile, who previously had remained strangely quiet...

He turned to his guest and said very graciously, 'Miss Samantha, welcome to Severence' His hand held aloft to broadcast it's quaint splendour. 'May all your dreams come true'

Holding out his hand to Sam91 he petitioned for the honour of the first dance when the time came. Now Sam91, used to the Sphinx's less gallant attitude, actually blushed and accepted the invite bashfully.

The Sphinx was outraged. As Chaperone he felt that Mr H was overstepping the rules of decorum and ought to have asked permission before addressing his protege.

He noticed the crimson stain on his conscience's face and noted that she was aware of the disgraceful actions of the deplorable Mr H.

He had a good mind to bloody the intolerable Mr H's nose, knowing that this is what Mr H did unto others, therefore he must want to be treated so himself.

...

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

However, the levers and pulleys within the Doctor's ancient brain system finally creaked and groaned into action, and he realised that an overt punch to the intolerable Mr H's nose might result in something worse for the good-but-though-he-didn't-like-to-admit-it-physically-less-competent Doctor.

He briefly considered a tactic which the sons of Jacob had used on the Shechemites in Genesis 34, but then decided against it, as Sam91 might consider such a retaliation somewhat extreme.

He then considered inviting the insufferable cowboy to a challenge of skills, but finally moved on from this plan, as he believed Mr H to be more adept than he at every cowboy-related task he could dream of.

Sam91 was becomer more and more crimson every minute, and he knew for the sake of honour and duty, he could delay no longer.

After donning one of his protective gauntlets so as to strengthen his sometimes fragile bones, Doctor Sphinx did what he should have done from the start, and punched Mr H on the nose.

Sam91's mouth was open slightly, not sure whether to be upset at this unnecessary violence, or partly flattered that these boys seemed to be fighting over her. LaSorcia's mouth was more open and in shock, a stern frown on her brow, her hedge trimmers snipping at an increased frequency to signal her displeasure.

As Doctor Sphinx took Sam91's hand firmly from Mr H and pulled her away from his bleeding nose, Mr H took several steps backward, before falling flat on his back.

'Doctor Sphinx!' called out...

 

[Sam91]

Sam91 'well done indeed!'

'What a punch!' She felt her own bruised knuckles and went to inspect these gauntlets. Maybe a pair would be useful.

@LaSorcia tutted and flung a pristine handkerchief towards Mr H. 'Mr H, please could you address Sam91's chaperone before taking hold of her hand in future. You must not touch a ladies hand without consent.'

The good doctor positively beamed

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

He could get used to this chaperone business. Protecting @Sam91 from all manner of unwanted characters, then punching them on the nose when they crossed the line. He acknowledged there was always the risk Sam91 might fall for one, but if he played his cards right, he was confident in his abilities to bring these villains across the red line before Sam ever reached that point. LaSorcia might not strictly approve of this kind of scheme, but then, did she ever?

Encouraged by the kind words from the ladies, the Doctor advanced again toward his enemy, who was only now getting back to his feet, @LaSorcia's previously pristine handkerchief awash with blood against the fellow's now-mishapen nose.

The Doctor struck again, and Mr H fell anew on his back, blood pouring again from his even-more-misshapen nose. Sam91 and LaSorcia exchanged awkward glances.

'Uh, I think that's enough chivalry for the moment, Doctor Sphinx,' called out Sam91 worriedly. 'I think Mr H has learned not to touch a lady's hand without consent.'

The Doctor hesitantly retreated toward Sam91, and asked politely if he could see exactly where the vagabond had touched her.

Sam91 showed him her hand, which also happened to be the one with the bruised knuckles.The Doctor tut-tutted as he gently touched and prodded her hand, and rubbed some strange but pleasant smelling ointment into her knuckles. She wondered why she hadn't made out that Mr H had touched her hand from the moment she'd damaged it when breaking the doctor's nose, as he might then have applied the soothing lotion sooner.

Sam91 was beginning to wonder whether she needed a chaperone for her chaperone - based on the time it was taking for him to apply the healing balm to her hand - when LaSorcia wandered over to her.

'That's the most aggressive I've ever seen you, Doctor Sphinx,' LaSorcia noted.

'Well, ma'am, I'm this dear lady's chaperone - the only shield between her honour, and that creature's base appetites', responded the doctor, kicking some sand in the direction of Mr H's face, to indicate which creature he was referring to.

'And,' noted LaSorcia to Sam91, 'that non-consensual hand-holding was uncharacteristicly chauvinistic of Mr H. I wonder if it's something in the atmosphere here,' she added, as she snipped at the air suspiciously with her hedge trimmers...

Sam91 nodded. She too, believed there was something different about this place. The Doctor was most certainly a chauvinist in need of a cure, but she had never known him to be a violent man. At least, not until now. While it was true that his defending of her honour did make her heart feel happy, if not a little light, the fact remained that violence is never the answer, and the poor Doctor seemed to have somehow forgotten this vital lesson of life. But Sam91 was sure she would find a way to enable him to relearn...

 

[Doctor.Sphinx]

Although...

Sam91 hesitated. She was starting to feel a little strange herself. It had felt good to watch her chaperone defend her honour, and it was certainly easier on her knuckles. Could it be that she had been wrong all along? That violence sometimes is indeed the answer, that round holes will never be a good fit for square pegs, no matter how much you inform them that peg shape is just a consequence of social conditioning, that measured chauvinism - as extreme forms of most things are unhealthy - is in fact the natural order of things, the way that God had instructed, and in fact, the way He had designed?

She shook her head confusedly. She could see the Doctor staring into her eyes, as if he was not only reading her very soul, but cataloguing her thoughts and storing them in an electronic database for ease of referencing and quick look-up at a convenient future moment, which, unbeknownst to Sam91, was somewhat ironic, as this indeed was what the good Doctor was doing, although he probably wouldn't have cared to admit it.

So it was she who had been suffering the illness all along - the illness of feminism, and the good, kind, faithful, valiant, chivalrous and - she squinted a little - yes, even somewhat handsome Doctor, who had not been ill at all, but had been long-suffering in comforting her in hers. 'However can I repay him?' wondered Sam91 to herself, half-rhetorically.

 

[Sam91]

It was a good job Sam91 couldn't read the good doctors mind. If she had been able to she would have realised the severity of the good doc's condition and might have operated immediately using @LaSorcia's hedgetrimmers.

As it was, Dr S had reached the stage of denial and it was easier to think Sam91 was ill, than to acknowledge the truth.

The fearless four, well three-Dr-S-had-been-a-coward of late, continued to Mr H's homestead...