Avenger Trek continued…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s existential angst is centred around the sound of the word trunnion. (T)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Now, where was I?…
Right, yes, I was in the middle of flicking between channels on the TV, watching both an episode of the 1960s The Avengers series and an episode of the 1960s series of Star Trek, when the doorbell rang (it was just the postman delivering the interocitor kit I had ordered a few days earlier). Interocitor.
Let’s see if we can pick up the plot(s) where we left off dear reader:

‘Drinks are being served Mr Steed.’
‘We have entered the zone of darkness Captain.’
‘What? In your raincoat pocket?’
‘Apply forward thrust Scotty!’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Everything is acting backwards.’
‘Mrs Peel is working at the treasury.’
‘Yank us out of the zone!’
‘A machine that reduces things?’
‘Prepare to launch a probe.’
‘It’s mud and miniature grass!’
‘A firm gelatinous layer?’
‘Shrink them to the size of ants!…’
‘He’s better suited both physically and emotionally Jim.’
‘Mrs Peel! Mrs Peel!…’
‘This is not a competition Doctor!’
‘They’ve kidnapped Mrs Peel!’
‘Our drain is enormous, and growing worse!…’
‘I can promise you a most diverting evening.’
‘When do you estimate penetration?’
‘Steed, it can’t be you!’
‘The reproductive process is to commence.’
‘How did you guess?’
‘I’m getting telemetry Captain.’
‘Get into a position I can reach you.’
‘It’s sensitive to interior irritation.’
‘Fantastic! Amazing!’
‘What is that thing Bones?’
‘Chivers is behind it all!’
‘We’ll be the virus invading its body.’
‘Ow! Ow! Ow!…’
‘Divert power on my signal!’
‘The pen is mightier than the sword!’
‘We’ll use antimatter!’
‘Oops! Sorry!…’
‘Implant it and back away!’
‘Today a summer-house, tomorrow the world!’
‘We must make it through the membrane!’
‘Well well Mr Steed…’
‘Two tractor beams!…’
‘I’d love to help but I’m afraid my hands are tied.’
‘Shut up Spock!…’
‘Bermuda shorts?…’
‘The organism is destroyed sir.’
‘Here, look, take my brolly…’

 

 

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in conversation, cool, drama, dreaming, existentialism, history, humour, information, poetry, science, Scotty, serendipity, sex, Star Trek, style, surrealism, TV, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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