START PANICKING!

START PANICKING!
I am very, very, very worried. Because of the glowing articles about Waiheke in Lonely Planet and
other places that should have kept their big mouths shut, and because so many people are leaving
America to escape Donald Trump and Britain to escape Brexit and everywhere else to escape
climate-change, the island is being deluged with alien bodies and alien vehicles.

As a result it is sinking. I have been taking precise measurements, and on the busiest days, when
the island was alien flesh and metal from one end to the other, it was an astonishing 10 metres
lower.

I felt the supermarket shaking, so our bit of the Earth's crust is definitely being deformed  far
faster and more violently than that old myth called the rule of law.

So two imminent disasters are staring Waihekeans in the facials. Either the tonnage of alien flesh
and alien cars will suddenly be too much and the island will sink into the sea and we shall all
drown. Or when all the aliens go home the island will rise 10 metres in a big hurry and the
consequent earthquake will shake us all to pieces.

--

(Written on behalf of Chicken Licken who has been kidnapped and fried by KFC)
(So HE was right)

INCOMPETENT INORGANIC: PART 5

Although Scotty was reduced to ashes and shot into orbit in an urn long ago (Scotty of Star Trek for those to whom that means nothing) he is still beaming things up to the USS Enterprise and working wonders with seemingly dead machinery.

He must be. Because a few days ago the fridge-freezer suddenly vanished. One day it was there; the next it was gone. No goodbyes, no parting notes, no so-long-and-thanks-for-all-the-fish, no word of any sort.

Its disappearance would be a big mystery, except that by a quirk of quantum entanglement I have learned that Scotty modified it and sold it to some intergalactic being with blue skin and retracting horns, who fitted it into a warp drive. Apparently old fridge-freezers from Earth can produce endless warp flux by adding a clever gizmo produced by the guys on the Fifth Rock orbiting Sun Four in the Orion system. Which must be the ultimate in recycling. If the Council only knew, it could be making enough intergalactic credits from piles of dead fridge-freezers to pay off the global debt.

So the Incompetent Inorganic Saga lasted only five weeks--enough time for a 1960s Apollo mission to have got to the Moon and back ten times over. That's progress for you...