Impeurvious Basterds (Totaly Not A Terinteno Wripoff)

Ever since he’d woken up from his hangover, The Amazing BEM! was having the most confusing of days. What had started out as a kegger just out of reach of a black hole had turned into some bizarre spectator sport where he would have to quite literally fight for his life (let alone his right to party).1

Now, just when he was settled in all comfy-cozy and ready to sleep for a light-day or two, that ovally little guy was on the speaker telling everybody about Mirvoans, whatever those were. BEM! had never been in this part of the galaxy before and wasn’t all too sure he liked the fact Egghead had used the word “impervious.” As best he could recall, that probably meant something bad when it was mentioned in the same breath as “pirates.” Probably definitely.2

But the Keraketchoor thrived on such pandemonium (or had his hands in causing it); the universe was a great big party and he was busy drinking, rocking, screwing, and generally having as much fun as he could. If this IGE joint wanted a show, hell, he’d give ‘em one.3

BEM! grabbed the only thing of any worth to him, his Neither-Nor quantum figment guitar, a rare instrument that existed wherever and for as long as BEM! thought about it. It was equpped with strings made of hard light and an inbuilt AI named Hendrix. He had fuzzy memories about how he’d won it outdrinking the Great Inebriate of Schlitz-Pilzner at a ‘meteor rock’ concert somewhere in the Pillars of Creation.4

The doors opened for the green-skinned alien just in time for the power to shut off. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out any ominous (or impervious) figures, so he quickly ‘shaped’ his eyes to accommodate him. Much to his dismay, there were no Mirvoans about, which was a shame since he had become rather curious as to what the creatures looked like.5

“This is the pits, Henny, baby,” he told his guitar’s AI. “I was hopin’ for somethin’ real groovy, right? But there’s no one here but us chickens.”6

“Fool, what you talkin’? Ain’t no damn chickens anywhere,” Hendrix scoffed (as much as a guitar can) irritably, its stereotypical voice making its strings flicker.7

“Whoa, cool down, baby, you wanna give us away?” BEM! replied. “Form of expression. From Earth, ya dig?”8

“I don’t know why yo’ so hung up on dat backwater dump fo’.”9

“S’not no dump, baby, it’s the cat’s meow, the bee’s knees! They’ve got music and television and them crazy 3D glasses and…”10

“Be quiet, foo’! Someone’s comin’!”11

BEM! extended and cupped an antenna, listening. Slow, heavy steps and guttural voices echoed down the halls. Being that it was pitch-black, there was no foreboding shadows thrown against the walls and growing ever larger, which BEM! was pretty sure was part of the deal in this sort of situation. Bummer.12

The first sight he got of an infamous Mirvoan space pirate was of its massive, gelatinous gut as it turned a corner. The rest soon came into view; a colossal creature with a wide mouth dressed in studded rags and scuffed armor and looking very much like a walking glob of dark blue blubber. A second monstrosity followed behind it, equally disgusting to behold. Atop their oblong heads were helmets with mounted lights to see in the dark. When they looked his way, BEM! found himself blinded and exposed.13

“C’mere, youse!” the first Mirvoan demanded, pointing a fat finger at the Keraketchoor. “C’mere and gimme dat.”14

BEM! looked down at his guitar and made the reasonable assumption that, being what they were, these bloated buccaneers wanted it for themselves. He wasn’t very wild about the idea of handing over such a badass instrument. Especially not after the epic binge drinking he’d done to earn it.15

“The hell? Don’tchoo dare hand me over to those fatass suckas!” the AI warned.16

“No worries, ain’t gonna split on you,” he assured it, then told the Mirvoan, “Sorry, baby, gotta scram!” and promptly fled. 17

He darted down the hallway—opposite the way he should have been going to reach the dome—with Hendrix clutched to his chest. He sought refuge in other rooms, but with the power out, no doors would open. Meanwhile, the Mirvoans each unholstered a pair of BFGs and pursued him, firing off rounds of inexplicably visible (red, even) lasers.18

Ducking into an auxiliary corridor, BEM! discovered, much to his chagrin, that it ended quite suddenly in a wall decorated with various impressive-looking but useless gadgets and ornamentation.19

“Frak,” he said simply. Damned science fiction and its scene-filling eye candy!20

The Keraketchoor made to head back the way he came and saw that the corpulent Mirvoans had caught up to him. Surprisingly, they seemed not at all winded by the chase, their broad mouths now obscenely gleeful smiles and their impractically large firearms aimed straight at him.21

“Double frak,” he gulped.22

“Gimme dat gizmo, greenie,” one of the pirates ordered, holding out a meaty blue hand.23

“Yeah, give it,” his fellow needlessly added to up the word count.24

BEM!’s dark-friendly eyes flitted back and forth, searching desperately for a way to escape.25

“Foo’!” Hendrix suddenly shouted. “Don’t yo’ stupid, drunk ass remember what I is?”26

“What?”27

And then, as the story dictated, BEM! remembered; he was holding a *quantum figment* guitar. At any time he wished, he could simply think the ‘ax’ away.28

His hands suddenly empty, the Keraketchoor stared up at the Mirvoans and shrugged good-naturedly. “Would ya look at that? Thing just disappeared on me, baby.”29

The Mirvoans cast each other skeptical glances. Finally, one of them gestured with the hand that held his gun.30

“Bring it back, greenie.”31

“Yeah, bring it back,” the Adder-of-Needless-Words said, fulfilling his role.32

“’Fraid I can’t do that, my very fat cats,” BEM! apologized. “But, I can give ya somethin’ else…”33

“What?” one of them asked (suffice it to say, the other echoed this question without much purpose).34

“A big ol’ can of TAKE THIS, BABY!” the alien yelled, animatedly launching himself in the air and shaping an arm into a wicked-looking green blade as he did. He came down on the somewhat less useless Mirvoan, shoving his transmogrified limb hard into it’s ample stomach.35

It took a moment for the rush of whatever amounts to adrenaline in Keraketchoor physiology to wear off before BEM! realized that his target was not, in fact, screaming in horrible agony or spouting a fountain of weird, extraterrestrial blood. Rather, he was standing quite unscathed, looking down at the little green man before him in puzzlement. BEM! saw that his blade-arm had punctured nothing, simply being sucked up into the folds of the Mirvoan’s elastic skin.36

“Shazbat,” BEM! cursed.37

“Stupid greenie,” the Mirvoan whose belly the Keraketchoor was currently elbow-deep into grinned. His partner said likewise.38

“So *this* was what they meant by impervious,” BEM! thought aloud. He tried vainly to yank his arm out of the pirate’s fleshy abdomen, but could not free himself.39

“Yer gonna git it, now,” the Mirvoan taunted and pressed the barrel of his cartoonish weapon against BEM!’s temple. You know the other one did something similar.40

“Um… what’s say I give ya that guitar now, baby?” BEM! asked. Before the pirates had time to reply, the Mirvoan who had the Keraketchoor held captive with his belly fat abruptly widened his eyes and yelped. His comrade looked to him questioningly, then watched in horror as a strange shape bulged out from the anguished fortune hunter’s middle. Impervious or no, it seemed even the Mirvoans were susceptible to injury when foreign objects suddenly materialized and started emerging from within their body.41

The creature wailed as his front burst open grotesquely like a stomped-on piece of fruit and neon blue ooze dribbled out in fat, slow gobs. BEM! pulled Hendrix, now slick with glowing ichor, out of his bowels. The Mirvoan fell onto the station floor, more than likely dead. His (former) partner decided this was a good time to stop imitating him and fled like a large, lumbering school girl.42

“Aww HELL NAW…” the guitar’s AI groaned loudly. “Look at me! I’m covered in… what the hell even is this?”43

BEM! pressed a light-green snake tongue against the body of the instrument. “Hmm… blueberry?” he chirped.44

“This is all kinds of not-making-any-goddamn-sense,” Hendrix said in a manner that might imply a person with one would be shaking their head.45

“Yeah, well, if we wanna get outta here, baby, we better—”46

The Keraketchoor was cut off by the sound of voices. Mirvoans, no doubt. One of them was telling another, quite frenzied, to calm down.47

“Aw, sheeeeyut! There’s mo’ of those sonsabitches comin’!”48

BEM!’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know how we gonna beat ‘em this time, ya dig?”49

“Don’t beat ‘em, foo’,” Hendrix said slyly, “BE ‘em. Yo’ a damn shapeshifter, son, so start shiftin’ that shape.”50

“Groovy,” BEM! nodded. “I’ll see ya later, Henny, baby.” Without ostentation, the Neither-Nor guitar was gone.51

Once again reminded of how to save his ass by an instrument that was probably smarter than he was (despite the possibly racist implications of its programming), BEM! got to it. His green skin changed hue, his body grew, and he put on quite a few more pounds than he usually carried around. When all was said and done, he looked indistinguishable from the lifeless Mirvoan on the floor (save for the fact his chest cavity was not messily split open). Picking up the pirate’s ponderous handgun and headgear, he walked out of the dead end hallway and back into the main one.52

Four Mirvoan space pirates all turned simultaneously to look at him. How they’d come to be in the hallway only now was, of course, due to space magic (or plot contrivance). One of them, probably the one who had witnessed it’s friends gory death, was on its knees and crying. Gooey alien tears and snot ran down its nondescript face.53

“Blurgul?” a new Mirvoan said. It was undoubtedly the leader, since it did not have the retarded-sounding speech patterns of its brethren and its armor and weapons were much larger/cooler. “You alright? Shmeergh here says he saw some little green guy tear a talking banjo or something out of you.”54

“It was a quantum figment guitar, actually, baby,” BEM! blurted out. He hesitated after this mistake, but decided to play it casual. “And, uh, he didn’t. Uh… you know how Shmeergh is, baby.”55

The Mirvoan leader shook his enlongated head. “Yeah, he’s always been a bit off.” Unexpectedly, it turned to the weeping pirate and smacked its seeping face. “You damn moron, look! Blurgul’s fine.”56

“That’s not him, that can’t be him…” the crying Mirvoan whimpered. “That’s the greenie… he changes shape…”57

The Mirvoan uberbadass sighed, disbelieving. “Shmeergh and his crazy stories. Blurg, you see anything?”58

“Uh… stupid greenie went thataway,” BEM! said, pointing a thumb behind him. The Mirvoan leader stared at him for a long moment and the Keraketchoor worried that it had seen through his façade. When it finally nodded and ordered its fellows down the hall, the one named Shmeergh trailing pathetically behind, BEM! breathed a sigh of relief, returning to his most common form, and made for the dome unhindered.