[The Vl'hurgs]

The Winds of Revolt or Odour to the West Wind

by Danny Henrey

Ye Muses Nine, come bless my verse;
Make my couplets pithy and terse,
That I an alien tale may tell,
On the loom of words to weave a spell.
Ye Muses Nine! I'll name you all -
The more I remember, the longer I'll stall:
Ugsome was the oldest named, then came Belch,
Then Halitosis, Squirm, Squeal, Splat and Squelch,
Then Chunderina, who was sweet and nice -
Unlike her younger sister, Pubic Lice.
Halt! Enough! Lest my inspiration shrivel
I'll tell my tale, though it's nowt but drivel.

Imagine, if you can, a distant place,
Flung farther than far in far outer space:
A small green planet by the name of Nigel -
The one on your left just past Rigel;
Shimmering softly, so serenely small,
Smiling, shining, shook by no sudden squall;
There, in the shady sadness of a vale,
Bathing his tootsies in fresh ginger ale
Sat mighty Oakley, treating a corn,
Whilst round whispered forests of seething soft porn:
By him sat Denzil, his tame pet iguana,
Feeding with gusto on a purple banana;
Lubing his nipples, Chris did this tune hum,
Whilst rubbing his kneecaps and scratching his back:
"We have bathed where none have seen us,
Nay, none have glimpsed my enormous ankles";
All of a sudden, the wind gave a roar,
And grunted and foamed like a murderous boar;
Eight figures appeared, fierce and robust -
Their leader declared, "We're from the planet Pus!"
His eyes shone like fire, his leer did proclaim
His spirit was proud, Kalivas his name;
His well-rounded frame was clad in sheepskin,
His bearing was haughty, his temper was magdalen;
By him stood a wench, a notorious quaffer
With a shining red nose, an Amazon called Chaffer;
Clasped round her waist, next to her laser,
Was some old tawny port, and gin as a chaser;
Alone on a rock crouched Anthony Mellors,
Another cave dweller in well-stocked wine cellars;
Graham Harper stood close; it wasn't a dye,
But a crazy red shift that flared in his eye;
Rob H., their chef, stir-fried in a wok
Some liver from his labs, brought home in a sock;
Steve Hoey inquired, as only he can,
"Heard 'bout the fish that turned into a man?"
Guy and Mary saw and heard none of this,
For the fire of love burned, and entwined them in bliss!
One soul stood apart, paler than that scene,
And somehow not all there, if you know what I mean;
He started to speak, and the whole planet shook,
Putting our lovebirds right off their nook
Yea, as he spake, as he started to yack,
All knew at once - Paretzky was back!
These were his words, this his harangue:
"Tho' I'm a son of good old Uncle Sam,
I'm at heart a VI'hurg, steady and true,"
And just to prove it, he swallowed a brew;
"But living on Pus has become such a drag,"
Here he paused, nobly to use his sick bag:
"Life," he went on, "ain't much fun when you slave
To provide the Emp. with the things that he craves;
All our time, Dipso, is spent catching trollops,
Growing ulterium, slicing up collops,
Grubbing for feelyworms, dredging tourmaline,
And just what do you do, you naughty old queen,
With five tons a week of raw vaseline?
Well, this is it, Dipso, we're here in revolt,
As even you can tell, you foolish old dolt."
It would, of course, be more than insulting
To confirm that this crew were more than revolting;
The fix Dipso was in was hard to unravel -
Eight lasers and a wok trained on his navel;
A wintry chill had set into his brain,
But his bold, brave body to the rescue came;
Rising from the depths, a growling noise grew;
A mighty fart wobbled, surfaced, burst and - oh, phew!
Rocked on their heels by the thunderous blast,
The usurpers spluttered, and breathed their last!
Now peace once more reigned on the planet of Nigel,
Though Oakley, poor soul, has to make do with K-Y gel:
As for those valorous rebels, ah weIl,
Their souls will forever fester in hell,
Racked by this torture, horrible to tell -
Giving endless bubble baths to Doc. Popplewell...