Viewing last 25 versions of post by 97blackbird in topic The Continuing Adventures of Medi-Bat

97blackbird

Here's a short story I'm obviously a bit late on... Happy belated Thanksgiving!

“What was this holiday called again?” the grey batpony squeaked the question. She had failed repeatedly to upright herself on the soft pillow she had reclined on. If she was to be stuck for a while, being sated and supine was a great way to spend her time. “Is it… Glutton’s day?” Medi then shamelessly open-mouth burped.

Blackbird looked over at Joe and Starlight (the communist one), who were passed out from their frenzied search for the perfect vodka sauce variant for roast turkevy, and then cryeating a vodka sauce foor every side dish served; including finding a vodka sauce for the vodka sauce. Several empty bottles littered the floor. But they had to admit, thedly had been successful, as all the sauces were delicious and complimented the foods to which they had been paired. Whether they were sleeping due to their extreme sou chef exertions, or from imbibing the ‘fruits’ of their labor was a matter of speculation.

Big Buggy Bastage remained plugged-in to a marathon gaming session of some international MMO, while chatting several wforldeigners educating them about the Thanksgiving Holiday, and refining the fueling maps of the modern engines of the research vessel ESF SSgt Reckless, and also playing a game of solitaire because he felt a little bored. Blackbird shook his head slightly; it was too bad robots can't enjoy the sedative effects of Tryptophan.

Ensign Exposition crawled up to the dessert table, again, and eyed the confections longingly whith a slow lick of her lips. A groaning escaped as she slipped back down to the floor and rubbed her overindulgent, aching, distended, belly. It was the most silent she had been.

“It’s called Thanksgiving, Medi, but your confusion is understandable.” Blackbird answered.

“And when is the next feast holiday?”

“One month from now.”

Medi flailed her legs again but remained as immobile as ever. She smiled and burped again. “Perfect timing!” She declared, "I should be able to move by then!"
No reason given
Edited by 97blackbird
97blackbird

Here's a short story I'm obviously a bit late on... Happy belated Thanksgiving!

“What was this holiday called again?” the grey batpony squeaked the question. She had failed repeatedly to upright herself on the soft pillow she had reclined on. If she was to be stuck for a while, being sated and supine was a great way to spend her time. “Is it… Glutton’s day?” Medi then shamelessly open-mouth burped.

Blackbird looked over at Joe and Starlight (the communist one), who were passed out from their frenzied search for the perfect vodka sauce for every food served; including finding a vodka sauce for the vodka sauce. Several empty bottles littered the floor. But they had admittedly been successful. Whether they were sleeping due to their extreme sou chef exertions, or from imbibing the ‘fruits’ of their labor was a matter of speculation.

Big Buggy Bastage remained plugged-in to a marathon gaming session of some MMO, while chatting several worlds educating them about the Thanksgiving Holiday, and refining the fueling maps of the modern engines of the research vessel ESF SSgt Reckless, and also playing a game of solitaire because he felt a little bored. Blackbird shook his head slightly; it was too bad robots can't enjoy the sedative effects of Tryptophan.

Ensign Exposition crawled up to the dessert table, again, and eyed the confections longingly while groaning as she rubbed her overindulgent, aching, distended, belly. It was the most silent she had been.

“It’s called Thanksgiving, Medi, but your confusion is understandable.”

“And when is the next feast holiday?”

“One month from now.”

Medi flailed her legs again but remained as immobile as ever. She smiled and burped again. “Perfect timing!” She declared, "I should be able to move by then!"
No reason given
Edited by 97blackbird