The Great Chieftain and his ever loyal cousin were quite exhausted after the morning's efforts. The two Mosestarians, together with Tzipora and Bubba, had arrived back to their secret bunker/fortress on Petermann Island in Antarctica, to find it had been desecrated by sadistic vandals. Not only had the vandals interfered with the local gentoo penguin population, dressing them in unseemly colours and costumes, they had repainted the interior of the fortress from its respectable white, into all manner of inappropriate shades and hues of the rainbow and beyond.
The food supplies had been raided and spoiled, and the privacy of the Great Chieftain violated - a personal note, which he was in two minds about sending to his Rubyland arch-nemesis, was lying open on the floor, its confidential content revealing the Great Chieftain's feelings - wide open and exposed to the uncaring public who might have been holidaying in Antarctica and happened upon the secret base. Indeed, the only solace the Great Chieftain could take in the whole sorry affair was that the thieves had also saw fit to steal his Gideons Bible. It was a special edition Gideons Bible as it also had come with an Old Testament - King James Version, of course. He'd had to write an official complaint to the Gideons International as the bible he'd originally borrowed/appropriated only came with a New Testament, and Psalms and Proverbs. After much correspondence back and forth between the Great Chieftain and the Gideons Society, and threats of public exposure that the Gideons might be distributing a "much-truncated" version of the scriptures, the society had finally deemed it prudent and expeditious to address the tenacious complainant with an unabridged copy of the entire bible. The Great Chieftain hoped the thieves would read the passage on stealing. "Probably also they could do with reading the passage on "not coveting thy neighbour's *ss or his manservant", judging by their choice of colour scheme..." he thought to himself.
The beautiful warrioress Tzipora had also been busy. She had been organising new supplies for the outpost, as she knew Mosestarian men came with man-sized hungers. She smiled lovingly at the contented Bubba sleeping in her arms. "Although", she thought to herself, "at least the smallest of the men was yet still easily satisfied when it came to meals."
Her contented thoughts were short-lived, when she heard Mordecai calling from the other room.
The International Spy Vision screen had been hastily re-installed, and her heart sank as she watched some sort of trial scene on the display. There was Miss Jenny, Lanolin, the Great Chieftain's Arch-Nemesis - whose organs Tzipora had saved by her bribe to the McGown government - and the three clones, all pronouncing judgement over her, for crimes she did never commit.
"Explain to me again, my beautiful warrioress, what is it they find so threatening about you? Anatomically, you are the same as they... I mean, of course, the Empresses. And possibly Eagle Two," began the Great Chieftain.
"The clones, I can partially understand. Perhaps they view you as a different species. One to be exploited, maligned, conquered. Although I must say I find it disappointing that your raising them and caring from them from the test-tubes counts for naught. But the females... Is it because they are jealous of you? Is it your prowess in battle? Your beauty?"
"Oh Great Chieftain," Tzipora smiled through her sadness at the trial judgement. "You are wise and astute, like a stout stick poking through the swine's trough to rout out the hiding place of the shrewd rat, yes, it is jealousy that makes these otherwise fine nemeses behave in the way that they do. But not jealousy because of my beauty, my lineage, or even my battle prowess..."
"Oh?" asked the Great Chieftain bewildered. "Then what could the focus of their jealousy possibly be?"
"You, oh Great Chieftain," explained the warrioress, "Are the Most Beautiful Man alive."
The Great Chieftain screwed up his nose a little. "I uhhhh, don't know if I'd describe myself quite like that. Although..." he added, "Mordecai is quite handsome. Do you think..."
Mordecai nodded his agreement.
"It is true," interrupted Tzipora. "They are jealous of me, because of you."
"Well, is there anything I could do?" asked the Chieftain. "Perhaps a few more scars, or less hair? What if I started wearing scruffier clothes?"
"I could help him?" volunteered Mordecai. "I would teach him to be more like me, and less like him."
The warrioress smiled. "Well, scars are good, and a simple hair cut is practical. And your dress sense is already about a century behind the times... But no... What makes you beautiful is your heart..."
The Great Chieftain yawned inwardly. He didn't really want to explore this conversation any further. Whether it was some subversive plot by Tzipora to further infuriate her accusers, or whether she really believed all the lovey-dovey nonsense she was talking about, he couldn't tell for certain. Fortunately, at that moment, something occurred to divert the conversation to something of greater interest.
An advert from the Lanolinland Propaganda machine flashed across the International Spy Vision, and showed some old guy called Peter Jackson taking several drones aboard an icebreaker that had been affectionately christened 'Titanic 2', and sailing to the shores of Antarctica.
"Christened?" exclaimed Tzipora. "They christened that ice breaker."
Moses and Mordecai shrugged. "Well, it is a ship?" he asked.
Tzipora frowned. "If the Titanic 2 is travelling to our fair shores, I think its only reasonable that the vessel be properly baptised..."
1
