War of 100 Light Years

Sixteen pilots (including two very brave maggots) set out on this
brilliant October morning to face one of SCUL's most brutal
challenges: 100 light years in one day. Each pilot readied for the
showdown... who would win in the epic battle between the ass and the
saddle? (oops... can I say that?) Would the kneecaps revolt and
forcibly eject themselves into space? Would Diva throw up... and would
it be a true chopper century if she didn't? And who's farming this
rabbit anyway?

The day started off with a bang... well not so much a bang as a slow
leak... yep, USB Catastrophe got a flat while still in the hangar. It
wasn't Snarly's fault! It was the valve stem! Vomit jumped into action
and changed it in record time, and we were off!

Spirits were high as WalTor expertly navigated the fleet out of the
city and headed out the Minuteman wormhole. The sun was shining, the
tunes were blaring, the bells were ringing, and ...... aaaahgk!
there's a bogey flying right into our tailgunner! Seriously, it was
scary... fortunately neither Diva nor the bogey pilot were seriously
hurt, and we stuck around until the civilians were safely on their way
again, armed with SCUL stickers and buttons to protect them in their
future travels.

And we were off! ...again! Okay, this time it was going better. The
sun was shining, the tunes were blaring, the bells were ringing...
yeah, it went like this for quite a while. The cups were elusive, but
Bendy did his level best to find them anyway. On through the woods and
past the fields the pilots roamed, and then, “Mechanical!” Apparently
Catastrophe was throwing some sort of temper tantrum for having been
woken up after all these months lounging in the hangar.... and ejected
its chain. But this was no match for Threespeed and Snarly and their
chain splicing powers, and we were on our way again.

The g-wells were as manageable as you could reasonably hope for on a
mission like
this, but still they would not be satisfied without swallowing up at
least a couple of our pilots. And so despite a truly valiant effort,
Peacefrog and eekoli burnt up on reentry, and headed back for the Ayer
commuter bail station, completing 50 light years. (Late reports
revealed that Trondholm wouldn't fit on the train, and heavy transport
needed to be summoned to rescue them.)

The remaining pilots headed for the Snarly family space station, where
we were warmly greeted by Snarly's parents with delicious food
molecules of pizza and homemade apple strudel and gingerbread.
Snarly's mom christened herself Chickenhead. Chickenhead rules! While
we were refueling at the outpost, Hapto followed our homing beacon and
was drawn back to us from galaxy Vermont. Hugs abounded... but we had
to move on. However, the homing beacon continued to call her all the
way back to Fort Joy, where she would join the rendezvous mission
later.

The briefest jaunt into galaxy New Hampshire brought us into the
second wormhole of our trip, just as the sun was going down. The
blinky lights were mesmerizing, but the pilots managed to escape the
wormhole unscathed, and landed in the Ayer system for a brief pitstop
before attacking the next leg of the trip. Now the outposts were
further apart, and the pilots were starting to feel the pain. But
morale was still high, and we were travelling at record chopper
century speeds. Hackworth entertained all with loopy outbursts, and
entertained himself by yelling “incoming” at random and watching the
rest of us needlessly squeeze over to the side of the road.

On we pushed to reach the next outpost, WalTor and Diva's fort, over
dark and winding roads, with WalTor's brightly lit front thruster
guiding our way. That's when CFT JanBrady's front hub bearings decided
to start making horrible sounds. But it didn't fall apart, and upon
arriving at the Fort, Vomit swapped the front wheel out with one from
CCT SilverKing (what a pretty ship, that one) while the battalion
warmed up with hot cider and yummy cookies. Pilots braced themselves
against the cold as best as they could, and then bravely headed back
out for the last leg to meet the rendezvous ride coming from Fort Joy.

But uh, oh. Where was the rendezvous ride? Uh, hello, we're in
Lexington, but maybe they're just up the road still. Um, now we're in
Arlington... where the heck are they? Shouldn't we be seeing the Disco
Death Star right about now? After several miscommunications, it was
revealed that they had gone up the Minuteman Wormhole, whereas we were
on planet Massachusetts. We didn't know what to do. Retard and Bucky
decided to go back to find them, while Threespeed delivered MsMoon
back to her nearby space station. After waiting as long as we could,
it was decided that we had to push on or else risk the possibility of
a mission failure less than 5 light years from the end. So on we went,
and made it back to Fort Joy, the chopper century completed in under
15 hours.

And all hailed the excellent NavTail of WalTor and Diva! And all
hailed all of us because we were all flat bag! And the rendezvous
mission returned with Retard and Bucky! And maggot ZyGoat brought
homemade special SCUL century cupcakes! And Stogie was knighted with
TrezBones' (old?) fork! And there was much rejoicing for all the
century pilots, and returning pilots, and new pilots, and such a high
morale century. And there were 14 pilots in all who completed
the century. And there was much commiserating for our sore and swollen
body parts.

And there was much hugging, and special hugs for our Fleet Admiral.
SCUL is strong! Hip, hip, hooray!

answer key:

1. saddle

(1a. I'm not sure, but I did it anyway.)

2. maybe it would have felt better if they had

3. yes (so I guess we don't have to ponder the rest of that
question)

4. Diva! Diva's farming this rabbit!