"Oh shit!" Tibbs hissed and glanced at his unusually-quiet wife for a scolding, the light bump of the time-machine
told the passengers that thirty-seven seconds had passed and that their new destination was here.
But from the Vithian's exclamation, it seemed it wasn't a desert-island on Vinigan or 'Happy Pauline's' in Pasadena.
Tibbs' small monitor displayed a scene of human work crews, a hovering dull-grey helicopter in the background and
two men in pale-blue jackets studying a piece of paper that the chopper's rotors were trying to snatch from their hands.
The jackets were emblazoned with lettering that said 'FBI' and if Tibbs' screen hadn't been sepia-hued, he'd have
seen the letters were in yellow. (Just put in for continuity-sake!)
"I thought nobody would bother us here..." Tibbs said and fiddled with some switches. "...We can't be seen, but we
could be detected" he warned as he scrutinised the busy escapade around the usually-serene Observatory.
The warning was only issued when the bearded-pilot noticed Ninurta reach for his rifle and check its load.
Sunspot -New Mexico had been suggested by Mucklebones after consulting the hessian sack of small bones that she
kept inside her poncho. This revelation had come in the early hours of the previous morning in the meadow, although
technically, it was 2.15.pm in the afternoon at their present location.
Anyway, it was Muckles' fault.
Why a US Federal Task Force was investigating a lonely telescope facility and struggling tourist trap must have been
omitted-information from the clumps of cartilage that the great Witch carried with her and this might explain Muckles'
cursing under her breath. 'Mother-something' was all Boy In A Dress heard.
The same eyeless-being carefully opened the hatchway door and peered out at the dust-raising commotion, men in
overalls hung from antenna towers and confused Observatory employees mulled around near the desert stone walls
that marked the entrance. "Why can't they see us?" BIAD asked and opened the door wider for all to see.
With a grunt of exertion, Tibbs stood up and joined the Man-Girl, Muckles and Ninurta crouched around the opening.
He paid particular attention to the jutting rifle barrel that also accompanied the viewers. The continuing bedlam across
from where the time-machine stood conjured several scenarios in the Vithian's mind and one of them was that
somebody was possibly tracking them. But it meant that whoever that unknown was, he-or-she could manipulate time
as well. Tibbs didn't like paranoia and decided to leave that puzzle alone for now
"We're not here in the sense that our vibrational frequency is different to Earth's constancy, we're out of sync with
those fellas and buildings" Tibbs muttered indifferently and checked his handset for some insight. Mucklebones
sighed her annoyance of the situation and without consulting her allegedly-intellectual spouse, leapt out of the craft.
"If'n yer' silly box o'tricks cannot tell yer', ask a Policeman!" she called back over her shoulder and arranging her
poncho in a more revealing fashion, the tenacious crone strode off towards the pointing-and-order Government men.
The helicopter wheeled away bringing up a cloud of red dust that shrouded everything for a few seconds and that
was all Mucklebones needed to birth her spell.
"Cool!" BIAD said as the desert-dirt slowly cleared and he saw a bookish middle-aged woman clutching her cardigan
closed with one hand whilst attempting to stop the down-draft from relieving her of a pair of horned spectacles with her
ring-less other.
Mucklebones the spinster data-clerk wanted to know what the hell was going on.
"Excuse me Officer..." the prim lady in the knee-length pleated skirt said, "..But I have several daily tasks to conclude
and this... this interruption tempts moratorium" she added pushing her glasses up her pointed nose.
Tibbs sighed just as his wife had earlier, but this time it was with pride. "Look at her go" he said to himself.
The FBI agent looked around from the schematics he had in his hand and stared at the prudish bookworm who had
failed to follow an order. He was about to tell his fellow team members to search the basement area of the building
once more and maybe check out the janitor's quarters, it could be that the aliens had hidden in there.
"Ma'am, you're going to have to go back to the entrance way, this is an official investigation and you're disturbing the
process" Special-Agent Elliott Combs said and expressed his authority through his tone. A quick glance at another
agent -who's name escapes me at this moment, caused him to step towards Muckles in order to escort her back
outside the taped-perimeter.
"Touch me and you'll lose that f*ckin' arm" the alien-sorceress projected into the mind of the striding buzz-cut-haired
man in his twenties. The agent stopped in his tracks and at the same time, Muckles' three fellow passengers of the
time-machine burst out laughing.
An rare event -even for the GunMan as Tibbs noticed in his mirth that the rifle had lowered from his initial position.
"Easy Mister..." the unmarried macrame-loving auditor said "...I was only worried that my prized-cactus may possibly
be damaged in your tumult" and the young agent swivelled his head towards his superior.
Later, when the FBI groups would spend a couple of nights in a nearby motel, this same official would swear that at the
same time he halted, he saw a gnarled old woman in a dark rag with a misshapen head. Of course, that kind of weirdness
belongs in fictional writings and so he never told anyone.
"Sir?" he mumbled and drew a frown from his boss, Combs had no time for delicate dealings because of gender.
Rolling up the plans of the Observatory's layout, Special Agent Combs closed the space between himself and the
cock-sure secretary and allowed his annoyance to be shown on his face.
Which was what Mucklebones wanted.
"I will notify you once more Ma'am and if you do not vacate the area, this agent..." Combs pointed sharply at the kid
who'd failed in his duty, "...will arrest you and you'll be taken away for questioning".
Taking in the last of the information from the fuming official, Muckles released her mental foraging probe and dropped
back into character. "I apologise Sir, I realise you've an important task here and I wish you well with your endeavour"
Bowing slightly, Muckles turned to leave -but as her gaze left the two FBI, she mumbled something in a language never
heard on this planet.
A large van belonging to the domestic intelligence and security service of the United States blocked the view of the
retreating woman's path, Special Agent Elliott Combs and Agent Anderson Cooper suddenly contracted urinary incontinence,
the involuntary excretion of urine and their focus moved elsewhere.
"They're lookin' for aliens and they'll find porn on the janitor's laptop..." Muckles grumbled as she climbed back into her
husband's invention. "...Whatever yer' lookin' for here, is gone" she added and smiled at the three men admiring her.
told the passengers that thirty-seven seconds had passed and that their new destination was here.
But from the Vithian's exclamation, it seemed it wasn't a desert-island on Vinigan or 'Happy Pauline's' in Pasadena.
Tibbs' small monitor displayed a scene of human work crews, a hovering dull-grey helicopter in the background and
two men in pale-blue jackets studying a piece of paper that the chopper's rotors were trying to snatch from their hands.
The jackets were emblazoned with lettering that said 'FBI' and if Tibbs' screen hadn't been sepia-hued, he'd have
seen the letters were in yellow. (Just put in for continuity-sake!)
"I thought nobody would bother us here..." Tibbs said and fiddled with some switches. "...We can't be seen, but we
could be detected" he warned as he scrutinised the busy escapade around the usually-serene Observatory.
The warning was only issued when the bearded-pilot noticed Ninurta reach for his rifle and check its load.
Sunspot -New Mexico had been suggested by Mucklebones after consulting the hessian sack of small bones that she
kept inside her poncho. This revelation had come in the early hours of the previous morning in the meadow, although
technically, it was 2.15.pm in the afternoon at their present location.
Anyway, it was Muckles' fault.
Why a US Federal Task Force was investigating a lonely telescope facility and struggling tourist trap must have been
omitted-information from the clumps of cartilage that the great Witch carried with her and this might explain Muckles'
cursing under her breath. 'Mother-something' was all Boy In A Dress heard.
The same eyeless-being carefully opened the hatchway door and peered out at the dust-raising commotion, men in
overalls hung from antenna towers and confused Observatory employees mulled around near the desert stone walls
that marked the entrance. "Why can't they see us?" BIAD asked and opened the door wider for all to see.
With a grunt of exertion, Tibbs stood up and joined the Man-Girl, Muckles and Ninurta crouched around the opening.
He paid particular attention to the jutting rifle barrel that also accompanied the viewers. The continuing bedlam across
from where the time-machine stood conjured several scenarios in the Vithian's mind and one of them was that
somebody was possibly tracking them. But it meant that whoever that unknown was, he-or-she could manipulate time
as well. Tibbs didn't like paranoia and decided to leave that puzzle alone for now
"We're not here in the sense that our vibrational frequency is different to Earth's constancy, we're out of sync with
those fellas and buildings" Tibbs muttered indifferently and checked his handset for some insight. Mucklebones
sighed her annoyance of the situation and without consulting her allegedly-intellectual spouse, leapt out of the craft.
"If'n yer' silly box o'tricks cannot tell yer', ask a Policeman!" she called back over her shoulder and arranging her
poncho in a more revealing fashion, the tenacious crone strode off towards the pointing-and-order Government men.
The helicopter wheeled away bringing up a cloud of red dust that shrouded everything for a few seconds and that
was all Mucklebones needed to birth her spell.
"Cool!" BIAD said as the desert-dirt slowly cleared and he saw a bookish middle-aged woman clutching her cardigan
closed with one hand whilst attempting to stop the down-draft from relieving her of a pair of horned spectacles with her
ring-less other.
Mucklebones the spinster data-clerk wanted to know what the hell was going on.
"Excuse me Officer..." the prim lady in the knee-length pleated skirt said, "..But I have several daily tasks to conclude
and this... this interruption tempts moratorium" she added pushing her glasses up her pointed nose.
Tibbs sighed just as his wife had earlier, but this time it was with pride. "Look at her go" he said to himself.
The FBI agent looked around from the schematics he had in his hand and stared at the prudish bookworm who had
failed to follow an order. He was about to tell his fellow team members to search the basement area of the building
once more and maybe check out the janitor's quarters, it could be that the aliens had hidden in there.
"Ma'am, you're going to have to go back to the entrance way, this is an official investigation and you're disturbing the
process" Special-Agent Elliott Combs said and expressed his authority through his tone. A quick glance at another
agent -who's name escapes me at this moment, caused him to step towards Muckles in order to escort her back
outside the taped-perimeter.
"Touch me and you'll lose that f*ckin' arm" the alien-sorceress projected into the mind of the striding buzz-cut-haired
man in his twenties. The agent stopped in his tracks and at the same time, Muckles' three fellow passengers of the
time-machine burst out laughing.
An rare event -even for the GunMan as Tibbs noticed in his mirth that the rifle had lowered from his initial position.
"Easy Mister..." the unmarried macrame-loving auditor said "...I was only worried that my prized-cactus may possibly
be damaged in your tumult" and the young agent swivelled his head towards his superior.
Later, when the FBI groups would spend a couple of nights in a nearby motel, this same official would swear that at the
same time he halted, he saw a gnarled old woman in a dark rag with a misshapen head. Of course, that kind of weirdness
belongs in fictional writings and so he never told anyone.
"Sir?" he mumbled and drew a frown from his boss, Combs had no time for delicate dealings because of gender.
Rolling up the plans of the Observatory's layout, Special Agent Combs closed the space between himself and the
cock-sure secretary and allowed his annoyance to be shown on his face.
Which was what Mucklebones wanted.
"I will notify you once more Ma'am and if you do not vacate the area, this agent..." Combs pointed sharply at the kid
who'd failed in his duty, "...will arrest you and you'll be taken away for questioning".
Taking in the last of the information from the fuming official, Muckles released her mental foraging probe and dropped
back into character. "I apologise Sir, I realise you've an important task here and I wish you well with your endeavour"
Bowing slightly, Muckles turned to leave -but as her gaze left the two FBI, she mumbled something in a language never
heard on this planet.
A large van belonging to the domestic intelligence and security service of the United States blocked the view of the
retreating woman's path, Special Agent Elliott Combs and Agent Anderson Cooper suddenly contracted urinary incontinence,
the involuntary excretion of urine and their focus moved elsewhere.
"They're lookin' for aliens and they'll find porn on the janitor's laptop..." Muckles grumbled as she climbed back into her
husband's invention. "...Whatever yer' lookin' for here, is gone" she added and smiled at the three men admiring her.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.