When You Think You Are Muscle Man, But Then You Mess With the Banneker-Jacksons ...

in #hive-15869416 days ago

A pure fractal made in Apophysis 2.09, overlaid on itself to create the muscled figure
muscle mannish.png

“I've known you for 60 years, Almira – you have a big mouth and an attitude, but nobody is scared of you, and your husband is a weaker man than I thought if he needs you to be out in front on this.”

I was walking to my uncle and aunt's house with my second-in-command Cmdr. Helmut Allemande and third-in-command and chief engineer Lt. James Doohan, and both of them turned to me.

“Captain Biles-Dixon,” my first officer said to me, “safety protocol requires that we physically shield you from the cataclysm that is about to happen less than a block in front of us.”

Cmdr. Allemande's German deadpan straight-man act always cracked Lt. Cmdr. Doohan up, and he almost needed the protection as he just about fell over into the sidewalk bushes … that poor commodore in Capt. Almira Banneker-Jackson's front yard had just signed himself up to be part of “Action Jackson's Greatest Hits” just for a warm-up to the takedown that was going to happen to him. The thing is, if he had known her for 60 years, he really should have known better.

“Listen, Commodore, because I've been recommissioned and so am only semi-retired as a captain, I'm going to respect your higher rank and not laugh you out of my front yard!”

Lt. Cmdr. Doohan was doing all the laughing as I was trying to keep it together as his captain, and my first officer stood like the Eiger's north face, since he was much taller and could already see what else was going on in the yard. He would laugh when he told Frau Allemande the story that night, and rattle the bulkheads of the Amanirenas with his immense basso profundo when he couldn't give the whole thing away …

“We're the same age, Commodore, but you really need to reflect on the fact that I was retired for 20 years and still came back only one rank below you, and you never retired trying to be me. I'm not on your level but you're not on mine either: I can get your rank this week if I want it, with 20 years off!

“The man you think you're going to talk down because you couldn't compete with him retired as a captain, took 20 years off, and returned a commodore and then leap-frogged you in three months – that's Admiral Banneker-Jackson to you, Commodore, so, what exactly did you think you were about to go do, sir?

“See, this is the type of man you are – you won that 'Mr. Galaxy, Senior Division' award and you haven't been right since.”

And she showed him the picture above – I recognized it from a distance – and just sat down on the curb because I knew this was going to get so much worse.

“See, this is you – just muscles on muscles – you think you are so big and important and special, and that you are just going to rah-rah your way through life and we all gotta listen to you – the problem here is that this is a Beowolfian Muscle Gnat, and fifty of them can fit on my thumbprint.”

“Oh no!” Lt. Cmdr. Doohan said before he literally started rolling.

“The punchline hasn't even happened yet,” Cmdr. Allemande said.

“Do you know what happens to a Beowolfian Muscle Tick when he gets slapped between a man's hands?” Aunt Almira said.

She paused and let him have plenty to say while Cmdr. Allemande, who could see over the fence at that distance, just shook his head, and then said, “Never mind all that, Commodore – you got so mad seeing me that you didn't look around – Admiral Banneker-Jackson is sitting right here to my left. You want to repeat all that to him?”

“Oh no!” I said.

“I was just waiting to let you trigger all the misconduct warnings you have on your record,” my uncle, Admiral Benjamin Banneker-Jackson, rumbled as he stood up from the tomatoes he was picking, “so that can I make this order: you will report directly to headquarters, turn in your commodore insignia, Captain, be stripped of your rank and clearances, and report directly to the brig pending your court-martial. You have twenty minutes to get to headquarters before I have you picked up, but if you follow orders and do not require a pickup, you will have occasion to retire before trial. Your total record shows 60 years of loyal service to the fleet, marred by your treatment of your fellow officers on some very unfortunate occasions – but your overall service record is being taken into account, upon my recommendation. That will be all. Dismissed.”

The newly minted-in-the-worst-way captain opened his mouth –.

“That will be all,” my uncle repeated. ”Dismissed.”

The captain turned and left – headquarters was a ten-minute walk for a young man, but he was 80 years old – he would just get there on time to save his pension. His face showed even greater hatred than before, and he almost turned back to risk it all … but, Cmdr. Allemande just frowned, concentrated on an imaginary Beowolfian Muscle Gnat bouncing up from the ground as they tended to do, and then clapped his huge hands together. That reminded the captain of where he was in life. So he left the scene, and Lt. Cmdr. Doohan got himself all the way together after another five minutes .

“Because I don't know if your uncle thinks this is funny and I really do not want to be a lieutenant again over dinner!” he said.

“A wise decision,” I said. “We already know Uncle Benjamin is not to be played with!”

“It astounds me continually,” Cmdr. Allemande said. “how anyone can be in your aunt and uncle's presence and not be amazed at them separately and in tandem. I will never be on their level!”

“You're not given to pretentiousness or jealousy,” I said. “You do have the height and the muscles, but nobody would ever compare you to a Beowolfian Muscle Tick!”

“The way you saved that man's pension with that clap because of your compassion, Commander – you're the real deal!” Lt. Cmdr. Doohan said.

By the time we got to the house, the Banneker-Jacksons were just chatting like nothing had happened. They had each stood out as early as the Academy, and had been dealing with people resisting them all the way. Smacking the egos of such people when they caught them slipping was just part of another late summer afternoon in San Francisco, with a few patches of fog passing for a little while over the face of the sun.

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Good text and nice image

Thank you so much!