Mutiny on my Booty

Worse Christmas Ever.

After my awesome christmas decorations heist, I went cruising the bars for a victory lap. Well, victory lapdance more like it. I spent a solid two days spending money, drinking with cute muscular men and sleeping real late. My problems began when I took home three amazing guys with perfect bodies and endless stamina. I spent all night with them and had my ship rocked like a hurricane if you know what I mean. 1stMateBot recorded the whole thing because it was just that damn good.

It's a good thing I did have him record it, because he kept recording after I passed out with exhaustion. So I have on record where my boy toys rapidly decomposed into shimmering green goo. The film shows how they reduced down to just stains on my bed and evaporated. Which is good because one of them had a plastic note inside of him. When I found the note on a stained pillow, it was nice to have a video record to tell me who left it.

The note said, "You should have never played in my operating feild, General Surgeon."

I woke up feeling like I had the flu, food poisoning and whooping cough at the same time. I vomited, ran to the bathroom and spent an hour praying for the pressure in my head to subside. Bots are awful caretakers but at least they don't complain when you request soup and then throw it all up. The Bots changed the sheets on the bed, washed them and installed me back it. I didn't know what General Surgeon hit me with, but I still had some antibitoics from my time with Professor Malice. The Professor's stuff doesn't really have an expiration date. Super-science rocks.

One week of agony later, I realized this wasn't going to work. I was still sick. My super antibitoics were gone and it was barely keeping me alive. As awful as I was feeling, I might have been content to give up and die a wretched death but I was saved by an unexpectant source. My ex-boyfriend came to visit.

Johnny Mars is not the kind of guy to come by when he hears you're sick. No, Johnny had no clue. He just heard I was in the area, busted a few heads and got an idea where I might be. It's a little scary how easy he found me, but Johnny's interrogation technique is a lot rougher than what most heroes would do. Besides, Johnny's pretty persuasive when it comes to a booty call.

My Bots anwsered the door when Johnny came pounding. I hadn't really given them a command in a few days so they were pretty passive once they recognized him as an ex. Yes, I have all my ex's on datafiles along with Hostility Levels. If Sonic Raven ever comes by, they'll fry his tail. But Johnny, Johnny's okay. He was looking beefy as usual with his simple black mask and red Mars symbol on his chest. He made spikey leather look very hetero, which is not easy to do.

"Damn Scarlett, you look like Hell."

"I'm dying, Johnny. Some punk named General Surgeon poisoned me with something."

"Bummer. Want me to kill him?"

"You'd do that for me?" I was very touched and in my feverish state, very close to crying over this gesture of love.

"Hell yeah, I would," Johnny said. "You used to be hot but now you look like a roadkill soaked in shit. Man, guys who make women ugly deserve to die."

I hacked for about five minutes. "Wait, you don't want to have sex with me? You've got the drive of a rabbit in solitary confinement and you don't think I'm sexy?"

"Sorry babe," Johnny said, not really meaning it. "You pretty nasty right now. Want me to go kill him?"

I sat up. "No Johnny. I think I want to do it. Carry me to my workbench."

Johnny frowned. "I don't think I want to touch you."

Oh yes, sweet angry revenge was what I needed.

"I understand, you can go now, Johnny."

"Sweet. When you die, I'll go kill him for you." Johnny then hit my fridge, grabbed a lot of food and left my lair.

1stMateBot carried me to my bench where I tried to remember a little of what Professor Malice taught me. I did a few cell samples of my blood to see what exactly I got hit with. I didn't expect to recognize the germ samples, but I was hoping to get a clue.

What I found was much more insidious than germs. It was some sort of nanobyte lifeform. General Surgeon hadn't just infected me, he infected me with microscopic germ men who were dismantling my system slowly and surely. I could have been dead by now, but they were taking their time and making me suffer. The little green saboteurs were intelligent, methodical and working on a plan. Oh, I was impressed.

I threw up again and came up with a cunning plan while my head was in the toilet. When I my loyal Bots carried back to my work bench, I had HelmsBot do the manual work while I directed. CookBot made me some green pea soup while 1stMateBot broke out some of my older equipment, in particular, my old nanobyte construction kit. You can't keep a good Captain down!

In a few days, it's hard to tell night and day when you are that sick, I had my new crew ready. I designed a horde of my own microscopic robots. The BarnacleBots. as I liked to call them, had a seek and destory program. Armed with teeny tiny robot claws, they were going to rip those germs a new one. That was the plan at least. I poured the BarnacleBots into some soup and gulped them down.

Managing a battle between microscopic armies within your own body isn't easy. I had a laptop rigged up to communicate with the BarnacleBots but navigating the human body is pretty weird. Some days we kicked butt and I actually managed to eat some solid food. Other days my fever ran so high that I had 1stMateBot manage the BarnacleBots through a program I literally scraped together while on the toilet.

I didn't even notice Christmas when it happened.

Yesterday, I think I finally won. I slept through the night and BarnacleBot patrols have found no traces of my invaders. What helped me out is that I was controlling my army while his was running on predetermined behaviours. We adapted, they died. I am exhausted and a bit thin, but I am still alive. I don't even know who this General Surgeon is, but I obviously crossed into his territory and he didn't like it. That's fine. I don't like being attacked. Maybe I've been too complacent with my raids, my partying and my superemacy.

Nah, I just need to skuttle this jerk and defend my space. Comfort bay is mine, and the General Surgeon is just so much chum.