...special effects on this are so cheesy.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
Well, yeah. It was 8,000 years ago.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
True, but it is a classic.
>sniff
I love this one.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
DARK CRUSADE OF LIGHT
Wait, this doesn't have the Yub-Yub song and dance in it, does it?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
Wrong series, my man.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
DARK CRUSADE OF LIGHT
Good.
If I have to sit through one more "Living Day" or whatever it was called being sang about by some hippie, I'm going to planet crack random planets till I destroy whoever made that.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
BASS
You're about 9,000 years too late.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
DARK CRUSADE OF LIGHT
Then I shall capture Atrekna and use them to sail the seas of Hellspace until I arrive back at the time they live and then BLOW UP THEIR PLANET!
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Well, us Mantid will be glad to see that.
Although, blowing up Earth isn't going to help you now.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
DARK CRUSADE OF LIGHT
Oh, are those crab cakes? I love crab cakes.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
My man, sometimes I wonder if you should be on medication or something.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
GUYS! HURRY UP! IT'S ALMOST BACK ON!
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
WE NOW RETURN TO THE CHARLIE THE MOO MOO POWER HOUR HOLIDAY SPECIAL, IT'S THE GREAT FESTIVE HOLIDAY GOURD, P'THOK! already in progress.
The wind tasted of cold ice as P'Thok moved slowly around the dead moomoos, examining them from every angle, the cameras in his eyeshades recording every bit of data across multiple spectrum. He could sense something, feel something, about the slaughter site.
"What is it?" Matron So'Luki, daughter of Matron Mi'Luki, asked as he crouched down next to the savaged moomoo remains again.
"Something..." P'Thok said slowly. He lifted up on bladearm, activating the light on it, and passed it slowly over the ground.
"Matron, our technicians have gone over the site repeatedly," one of the Grays, a Deputy Snarzhauzar, said, his voice full of stiff outrage. "I do not know what you think..."
P'Thok straightened up, holding a single piece of grass. He turned to one of the workers. "Analyze this. Give me the first reading, no matter what your instruments say, no matter how unlikely or impossible the results are."
"As you command," the worker said, still awed to be in the presence of the legendary war hero.
The Matron tilted her head, lowering one antenna and raising the other as she stared down at the diminutive gray biped, whose OD Green poncho his his tool and weapon belt.
"You were saying?" the Matron asked.
The gray bipeds all looked uncomfortable.
P'Thok kept moving around, often crouching down to look at things that caught his attention.
Things are so strange since the end of the war, P'Thok thought to himself. Many things have changed, many things seem to have changed but still remain the same, just more people know how it really is.
P'Thok stood up, the moomoo tender hat he had owned for so many years shading his eyes as he looked at the hoverlimo the matron had summoned for him to travel in.
The cities are still full of angry females who were sterilized when they were little more than hatchlings, to prevent our society from suffering an upheaval even worse than the Great Hatching has been, P'Thok thought to himself. The cities, he made a scoffing sound that drew other's attention as he pulled out a pack of smokes. Millions of Treana'ad pushed together into warrens like Mantid worker caste. The rain washing away the blood and the grime from the night before so it runs thick in the gutters.
TELKAN FORGE WORLD
Wait. Why are we hearing his thoughts like that?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
It's called a voice over, dear. Now shush.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
No, why does he sound like he's chewing on gravel? Why does he sound so depressed?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
It's called Great Upheaval Noir.
We invented the genre.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
RIGEL
So the humans copied you?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
Yes.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
RIGEL
Before they met you. Before you understood the concept of fictional visual literature?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
Yes.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
That doesn't make sense.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
Time travel.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
RIGEL
Time travel doesn't work that way.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
We invented both Noir, practical effects, and stop motion filming.
Computer special effects are for suckers without compound eyes.
--NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Will all of you hush, I'm trying to watch!
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
PUBVIAN DOMINION
Yeah, I've never seen this either.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
years since the war, my people have struggled greatly, P'Thok thought to himself, kneeling down to examine some of the partially melted candy. Now these moo-moo murders.
P'Thok stood up, dusting his gripping hands off on his sarape even as he folded up his bladearms beneath it.
Twelve years ago it started with a single murder of a single moo moo. Then the next year, two murder sites in two day, the first day a single moomoo, the second day two moomoos, P'Thok lit another cigarette and looked around, deliberately ignoring the grays. From there, it's followed the standard progression.
P'Thok looked at the moomoos and shook his head. Two. If the pattern follows, there will more days of fear and horror ahead and so many more moomoos will be slaughtered. A slaughter like I grew so used to...
RIGEL
Oof, I can't take this any more.
>Rigel grabs REMOTE.CON from TREA
RIGEL sets p'thock_and_festive_gourd.mov to HOLIDAY SPECIAL
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
P'Thok walked around, humming to himself, looking over the scene again.
There's a clue here. All I need to do is look carefully enough, and I'll find it, and the moomoos will be safe and sound, he thought.
The grays nodded thoughtfully, scanning the area with hand held scanners that used orange lasers to create the scanning grid.
The Matron watched solemnly, nodding slowly.
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
HEY! Gimme that back!
>grabs at remote
>RIGEL puts the remote behind her back
>TREA starts wrestling with RIGEL over the remove
