Space Pirates Ltd.

Because of various ties to celebrities and deities through our famous internet work here at Space Pirates Ltd., earlier in the week Dan and I were invited to attend a conference at the office of regular Space Pirates visitor Tom Cruise. We were told that it would be a highly detailed seminar involving lots of briefcases and powerpoint presentations, so we made sure to dress in the proper business attire in order to make a good impression with the various movie stars. We were somewhat surprised then, when we arrived at Tom Cruise’s mansion to learn that no one else had been invited. Still though, we here at Space Pirates Ltd. aren’t ones to pass up an opportunity for good business relations, and so agreed to have the meeting just with Tom Cruise himself. Before it began however, he insisted that he show us around his “kingdom” which included some of the following. (To clarfiy, Dan’s thoughts are bolded.)

- He insisted that we first stop by his Brontosaurus Pen to “feed the goddamn yanks.” We were led outside, where he supplied us with various illegal looking firearms, and told us to walk ahead of him, “just in case.” This lasted for several hours, finally ending when he commented, with a solemn look about his face, “I hope you have learned something here boys - this hurt me more than it hurt you.” He refused to say anything else and brought us back inside.

- Upon entrance into his mansion that can be only described as “crazytabulous,” his butler handed us blindfolds and commanded we used them. Lacking the ability to see, we could only hear Cruise scream “we will now play the Naked Police Man Game.” After 45 minutes of standing in place with black cloths over our peepers, we reluctantly untied our masks to see what was happening. Mr. Cruise was sitting in his “library” (quotation marks included because the room did in fact look like a library, smelled like a library and was an appropriate library size, it had no books in it) watching an extremely small television that his butler was holding in front of him.

- He offered us both drinks, which we reluctantly agreed to accept. With an air of what can only be described as caution mixed with fear, he pointed towards his kitchen and uttered “what doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger.” We began to point out that this made absolutely no contextual sense, but every time we tried to talk, he cut us off, yelping the phrase “RATTLESNAKE DICK” over and over. Seeing no other choice we entered the kitchen, which looked perfectly normal. We became confused however, when we opened the refrigerator and found nothing but hundreds and hundreds of mousetraps, all perfectly lined up in parallel rows. We searched his cupboards, only to find more of them, set up in elaborate patterns. We returned to the living room to point out what we found, but before we could explain he grinned at us mischievously, as if we were the butt of an elaborate prank, and let out an uproarious laughter which lasted a good 25 minutes.

- At one point - unfortunately - I had to use the bathroom. “Uh… Tom… could you tell me where the bath room is?” Briefly, his expression changed to that of a confused puppy. “Ohhh….. the BATH room. He he…” he replied. “Yeah. I have to pee.” As he winked to confirm indefinitely, the floor opened out from under me, leaving my body to plummet into an abyss filled with swirling colors and terrifying screams. I called out to the nothingness that flew by at the speed of gravity, hoping there would be a pleasant resolution to my death plunge. Then, just as soon as my free-falling joyride of inevitable splatitude had started it ended with a surprise. There I lay next to Tom in a room of fluffy white pillows. As a result of my previous state, I had relieved myself, just not in the traditional manner. Tom only uttered: “that’ll cost you a pretty penny, don’t you think?”

- After a few hours Mr. Cruise asked us if we wanted to watch a football game that was on TV. We replied that we would love to, being avid sports fans as well as hoping for a chance to sit down for a while. He led us into a room with pictures of clouds in the shape of barn animals - oil paintings, pastels, even photographs - covering all four walls, the ceiling, and nailed to the floor. With a whimsical smirk, he handed us each a pair of headphones, smiling eagerly as if he was about to perform an amazing magic trick. We put them on, only to hear the first four seconds of the title song to “Bewitched” looped over and over again. Too scared to do anything, we stood that way for well over an hour, our occasional glances towards each other resulting in Mr. Cruise throwing petty pocket change at us followed by a knowing wink. Eventually he removed our headphones and gave us each a high five, proclaiming loudly, “Long live the confederacy!”

- Growing tired of Tom’s antics, we decided it was time to return home. The following is an excerpt of the conversation of what we hoped would lead to our escape from this house:
“So, Tom I think we oughta get going, don’t you think, Ethan?” Ethan nodded violently. “Who’s Tom?” replied Cruise. We both started to edge our way towards the front door. “Who is Tom?” he repeated. “Who Tom Tom?” He vomited. We ran. “Fuck you guys, I will fuck you guys, you’re all fucks! Where’s the beat? How can I sing if I can’t find the beat? I need the beat! I need it!” This rant eventually trailed off into a deep sob that has a conclusion we will never know. We got out of there lickety split.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 14th, 2005 at 1:52 am and is filed under Pirate Brew Ha-Ha. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.