July 15, 2002
Written by Dr. Zhie
Grune sat at the control panel at the lair, monitoring the activity that
evening. Things had been relatively
quite, both inside and out, which put the saberlion’s mind at ease.
The fact that his 9:00 p.m. replacement had yet to arrive was another
matter. It was the sixth time in a
period of nine days that such an occurrence had happened, and Grune was getting
a bit pissed, to say the least.
“By the Eye of Thundera, if Jaga doesn’t get his ass down here so I
can get to my bridge tournament on time tonight…I’ll…I’ll…” Grune
contemplated for a while. “I’ll
leave the ThunderCats, start up my own army, and take over this crappy little
planet.”
By half past the hour, Grune wasn’t going to sit around anymore and
wait for Jaga to arrive. He set the
sensors for automatic alert, and checked the computer for Jaga’s location in
the lair.
“That’s odd…he’s in the new lion cub’s room, but he has the
camera turned off. But…but not
the audio.” Grune flipped a switch, allowing for the sounds to fill the
cavernous main computer room.
HONK, HONK!
WHHHHSSSSSHHHHH!
KA-FLAP, KA-FLAP, KA_FLAP!
WHHHHSSSSSHHHHH!
Grune, puzzled, was about to turn off the sound and just be grateful not
to know, until he heard an unusually high-pitched voice squeak out,
“Alright, big boy, here comes papa!
Give me some sugar, baby!”
“Claudus?” Grune gasped, too dumbfounded to turn off the monitoring
system.
There was an equally odd high-pitched voice that answered, “Only if you
can catch me, sweetheart.”
HONK, HONK!
“Jaga?” The saberlion reached over to turn off the feed, not wanting
to even begin to think of what was happening merely twenty yards away in another
room of the same building he was in, but something stopped him.
Instead, he turned the volume up.
Numerous giggles and other odd sentences followed, sentences that could,
if there were not a 600-word limit, be mentioned in this story. Grune continued to stare at the darkness of the screen,
wondering if the gods would be merciful and strike him deaf before having to
endure another second of the noise.
And then, he got curious.
Grabbing hold of his mace, he lifted it from his side and made his way
out of the room, down the hall, and into the nursery.
The room was brightly lit, with multi-colored balloons filled with helium
and causing colored shadows to be cast about in a rather festive manner.
Confetti was strew across the floor, and there was a pile of clothes near
to the door, consisting of Claudus’s cape, some rather gaudy looking
polka-dotted pants, and a rainbow striped bowtie.
Grune kicked them away as he made his way around the corner.
“For the love of Thundera, why could I not have been born blind!?”
Grune shouted in agony, turning away from the sight in horror.
Jaga, bent over the empty crib, merely adjusted the curly pink wig he was
wearing, shuffling his feet a bit, which were in shoes much, much too large for
him. Clutched in front of him, he
held a horn with a large red bulb, which he now honked, still saying nothing.
Claudus looked a bit more embarrassed, but found the strength to take
another hit of helium from a mostly deflated balloon before declaring in a tiny
voice, “I, uh, I like clowns…”
Grune shuddered, storming out of the room, and away from the scene.
He stopped in his quarters, grabbed his equipment, and was off to start
his army away from this madness.
The End