Star Trek: Voyages That Never Were V

Continued from... Star Trek: The Voyages That Never Were IV

OK. So, a little over two years ago I said I probably wouldn't do any more of these Voyages That Never Were posts as I didn't think I had anything left of worth to show. However, while searching for a cartoon I drew several years back, I found a few sketches of aliens that I thought I might share. Although, after you've seen them, you may agree with two-year-ago-me that they're not worthy...

After I'd drawn the starships and uniforms, I needed a crew to fill them. So, along with the usual humanoid races like the Trill, Betazoids and Vulcans, I set about creating some others...

This somewhat mermaid/man-like alien I called a Ssillaarii. I was going for some kind of serpent look, but it ended up looking like a man in a costume - OK for an actual TV show where it probably would be played by a man in a cheap rubber suit, but not OK for a realistic alien. Which is why I then produced these sketches (below) which, I think, are more natural-looking:
A hammerhead shark-like head, several limbs attached to its upper torso, and a long serpents tail complete with a fin on the end. This Ssillaarii would be a science officer on board whichever ship took my fancy at the time.


The alien in the upper & lower centre of the picture, and in the lower right, is an insectoid species called a Rane. Roughly the size of a human, she would look quite frightening, but would actually be very friendly and an excellent doctor.

This small, winged humanoid started off as quite unremarkable, as you can see in the sketch. However, like the Ssillaarii, I didn't want an alien that looked like a human with wings, and ended up redesigning her to be far more bat-like. Although named on the sketch as a Matarii, I eventually gave that name to a monstrous race of fairy-like aliens. Instead, her species is called the Yattho (the mentioned but not seen race of precognitive aliens from the Voyager episode "Before and After"). 

Ignore Deanna Troi and her crowned companion, I'm more interested in Stick-head on the right. I have no idea what race he's from, but I just like that he looks like Groot from Guardians of the Galaxy!



Oh, look! I've found the cartoon I was after, so I don't need to post any more alien sketches. You may all breathe a sigh of relief.

Cusp Trek VI: The Underused Crew

USS Cafe C 
Dorset Sector

 Beast sat up in his chair as a flunkie brought him his tea and placed it on the little table before him. It had been a long afternoon cataloguing gaseous chick pea curry-related anomalies and he was more than ready for something to eat. 
 Just as he was about to shove a forkful of sausage and beans into his mouth, a rattling sound distracted him. The rattle was coming from in front of him. He looked at his plate of greasy food and was alarmed to see it slowly shaking its way across the glass-topped table.
 "What the...?" he uttered, now feeling the entire decking shaking.
 "Oh, cripes!" Lieutenant Scarlet gasped behind him.
 Turning to the communications station, Beast asked her: "What?"

BANG!

 "Something exploded, Captain, and we're about to be hit by the shockwave. Hold on! Oh, and stop waving your little sausage at me!"
 Stunned at Lieutenant Scarlet's outburst, Beast looked down at his zipped-up fly then looked blank for a moment before noticing that he was still holding his fork up complete with a small sausage speared on its tines. "Oh. Yes. Sorry" he mumbled before turning to his helmsman and ordering him to turn the ship into the wave.
 After an awful lot of shaking, crewmen careering haphazardly across the bridge and someone turning the lights off and on again several times to make it even more dramatic, the starship settled once more.
 "Where did that come from?" Beast asked, incredulous.
 "The shockwave originated from the vicinity of the Infomaniac Oubliette, Captain."
 "The Oubliette? That's the DragKlingon's key innuendo producing facility. Confirm."
 "I can confirm the location of the Oubliette, but not its existance" Lieutenant Scarlet answered. "Do we report this, sir?"
 "Are you kidding?"

USS Enterprise-A 
Denmark Sector

 "Well?" CyberPetra demanded from the captain's chair.
 "Cor, let me get out of the lift first, Chekov" I said, somewhat exasperated, before barging past Cardboard Cut-out Spock and stomping down the steps from the turbolift and into the command well. "I can't find him."
 "You obviously didn't look hard enough, then."

Plastic "no tackle" Tim
(& cronies)

Feeling a
little flat?

 "I'm a doctor, not a private investigator!" I snapped back. "I did find these, though" and from my back pockets produced an OFFICIAL SPARKY TIM CUT OUT 'N KEEP ACTIONLESS FIGURE and a Plastic "no tackle" Tim. "The real Tim's not on the ship, I know that much. He's probably doing his stupid yoga somewhere hot and humid."
 "Girls, girls" Roses teased from her post at the corrallerallerer station.
 'Petra and I narrowed our eyes at her but she didn't take any notice. Rather, she just lit up a cigarette and put her feet up on her console while Princess attempted to stifle a snigger from her seat at the helm.
 "I don't know why you're laughing, Lieutenant Valeris" 'Petra said turning back to face the front. "You've got to pilot us out of spacedock."
 "Preferably in one piece" I added.
 Princess scowled and started the engines. "Clearing all moorings" she announced then almost stalled. The entire bridge crew stopped what they were doing and stared at her as she fumbled with the controls, trying not to let the engines cut-out. "Stop it!" she shrieked. "You know what'll happen if you all look at me-"

The real Kim Cattrall?

 Suddenly she was silent. Instead of a living, breathing, screaming Vulcan Australian steering the ship, a mannequin looking not unlike Kim Cattrall's whory old dummy*, sat motionless at her console.
 "Everyone stop looking" 'Petra sighed. Reluctantly, we averted our gaze and after a few moments, Princess returned to her normal state.
 "Look" she said, turning to face me, "when I signed on for another Cusp Trek adventure, I didn't think I'd inherit my character's original actress's previous role's curse."
 "Neither did I" I admitted. "Although, we are over the Cusp so what else did you expect?" Princess just huffed and crossed her arms. "Oh, remember you're supposed to be piloting us out of spacedock..."
 Instantly, Princess turned back to her console and flailed at the controls, turning the Enterprise just in time to narrowly miss hitting the edge of the retracted spacedoors.
 "Strewth! That was close" she admitted. Everyone else just breathed a collective sigh of relief and unclenched their arses.
 Roses was the first person to speak. "Right" she said, her crash-anxiety almost gone. "We'd better get a move on if we're going to be on time for this dinner with the DragKlingons."
 "I want everyone on their best behaviour" Commander 'Petra ordered. "You know how touchy they are about the destruction of their Oubliette."
 "Oh, yes. Perhaps some Romulan Ale will make the evening go more smoothly?" Princess suggested.
 "Are you quite mad?!" 'Petra asked, aghast. "I'm not drinking blue Kool-Aid! We'll have champagne, and that's that."

A little while later, after we'd rendezvoused with the DragKlingon vessel, Infomaniac One, and invited its crew aboard, we were all sitting around the dining table getting hideously drunk.

Yum! Plastic baby sperm whale...

 "An' tha's how yo' tell a Terrelian fro' a Tarellian" Cookie slurred with a filthy grin on his face.
 "Buuuuh-Urrrrp!" exclaimed Ms. Nations and took another gulp of champagne.
 "Ah wouldn' mind if it wa' one o' those four-armed Terellians" said Eros salaciously.
 "Buurrrrrrrr- *hic* -urrrp!" agreed Ms. Nations.
 LX tried to fork a hardboiled Klingon egg on his dinner plate but, rather vexingly, it kept leaping in and out of focus.
 "General Chang" Roses began with only a slight slur, "tha's 'n impressive crest."
 Touching her hand (the one that wasn't clutching a bottle of Jameson's) to her gnarled and wrinkled forehead, MJ attempted a smile but failed and grimaced instead. "An' that's an equally 'pressive 'do" she said, the enormous crest knocking pictures off the walls as she turned her head to face Roses. "I'll 'ave to gerra picshur for the Hair Hall of Fame before we go."
 Suddenly, LX stood up and grabbed the edge of the table to stop himself swaying too much.
 "I offer some toast" he said raising his glass and sloshing Champagne all over the place. "The underused crew... The fu..." And with that, he very slowly fell over head first into a bowl of half-eaten plastic sperm whales (see the last paragraph of the Romulan Ale article as linked to above).
 "Shit" MJ sighed. "Gorkon never could hold his drink. C'mon you guys. Azetbur, Kerla, we're off."
 "Well, this was fun" I said.
 "Mm" 'Petra agreed taking another sip of Champagne. "We must do it again some time."

 In the transporter room, Princess looked up as the doors whooshed open and rolled her eyes at the carnage before her.
 "Good grief!" she exclaimed as MJ and Cookie staggered in supporting a comatose-looking LX. Ms. Nations crawled after them closely followed by Eros and myself, with Roses and 'Petra bringing up the rear.
 "Stand aside, lassie" Eros said to Princess, trying to shoo her away from the transporter controls as he used them to pull himself to his feet.

Princess gets wrapped up in her work

 "No way, Captain Scott! You're so drunk you'll beam them into the centre of a planet. I'll do it." And she scooped up her sewing from the console and handed it to MJ. "Here are your new costumes." MJ looked at them in horror. "I had to make them out of old curtains as you wouldn't stump up for new fabric."
 Before MJ could complain, Princess mashed the transporter keyboard with her palm, beaming the DragKlingons over to Infomaniac One. 
 "Drat! I forgot to get the recipe for those new poutine torpedoes from Brigadier Kerla" I grumbled. "Beam me over, would you?"
 With an enormous sigh, Princess obliged and I found myself materialising on board the DragKlingon's starship. 

IKS Infomaniac One
Canada sector

 The first thing I heard was someone throwing their guts up. The next was "look out!". I stepped back just in time to avoid being sprayed by purple puke.

LX/Gorkon after one too many Romulan Ales

 Across the room, LX lay on a table, wiped out after projectile vomiting.
 "Did... Did I win yet?" he whispered before passing out.
 Suddenly the ship lurched and the stars outside the portholes stretched out. We'd gone to warp. And probably with some pissed DragKlingon at the helm.
 "Look, can you stop this thing so the Enterprise can pick me up?" I asked MJ.
 "I doubt it" she replied. "Azetbur has locked herself in on the bridge and you know what she's like when she's had a few."
 I had to agree. "Well, just drop me off when you pass the next planet, then."

USS Enterprise-A
In orbit of "Rear Port"
(a DragKlingon penile colonoscopy haemorrhoid in Canada Sector)

 "I've picked up his lifesigns, Commander" Roses announced to 'Petra.
 "On screen."
 The image on the viewscreen changed from that of stars to one of two figures kneeling in snow near a camp fire. Each one appeared to be holding a doll or effigy and were articulating them around in an approximation of life-like movement.
 "Zoom in" 'Petra ordered, curious as to what he was seeing. "What are they saying? Isn't there any sound?" he whined.
 "Nah. I think the external microphone's broken" Roses replied as she re-focused the sensors. The viewscreen suddenly filled with the two figures, one of whom was IDV. "Well, there's Doctor McCoy."
 "Yes, but who's the girl?" 'Petra asked. "And are they..." he squinted at the screen. "Are they holding mini-Tims?"
 "Good grief, they are! McCoy's got an OFFICIAL SPARKY TIM CUT OUT 'N KEEP ACTIONLESS FIGURE and the girl has a plastic 'No-Tackle' Tim doll. They're playing with them."
 "Wait" Princess said. "I believe I can make out what they're saying."
 "How? Can you lip read?"
 "No. But due to my inanimate mannequin-half, I can understand what the inanimate mini-Tims are saying to each other."

On the frozen arsteroid below...     

 "I can't believe I kissed you" an awed OFFICIAL SPARKY TIM CUT OUT 'N KEEP ACTIONLESS FIGURE said.
 "Must have been your lifelong ambition" the sexily arrogant plastic 'No-Tackle' Tim doll replied.
 The two effigies stared longingly into each other's eyes as the tingle of the transporter beam washed over them and their flesh-and-blood manipulators.

In the transporter room aboard the Enterprise...

  "That was quite a sordid little fantasy you two were re-enacting down there" 'Petra said with a hint of jealousy.
 "Hmmmph" I muttered.
 "So" he said turning to my companion, "who are you supposed to be?"
 "I'm Tara."
 "I'm sorry, what did you say your name is?"
 "Umm... Martia?"
 "That's better. Much more becoming this farcical scenario we find ourselves in, don't you think? Why, it even uses the same letters as 'I'm Tara'!"
 "I suppose" Tara pondered. "Hey, am I still married to David Bowie?"
 "I don't know?" 'Petra answered, then turned to the rest of us. "Someone google that" he ordered.
 "Christ!" Princess whispered to me. "This 'captaining' has gone to his head. Who does she think she is?"
 "Why do you think he only had cameos in all the previous instalments?" I whispered back.
 "So, what happens now?"
 "I don't know. This has all turned into a bit of a shambles. The storyline's unravelling faster than a magic carpet snagged on a Scots pine!"
 "Actually, now that you mention it, I was going to ask why I had to make those curtain-uniforms for MJ."
 "Well, she's playing General Chang who was originally portrayed by Christopher Plummer, who, as I'm sure you know, played Captain Georg von Trapp in The Sound of Music. So, that was going to lead on to-  Shit!" I suddenly blurted out.
 "What?" Princess asked.

SURPRISE!

 "We haven't done MJ's 'reveal'!"
 "Oh. But everyone knows she's really an Alien Queen by now."
 "Do they?!" I almost screeched.
 "Of course" Princess soothed. "Even if they'd forgotten (because it's been nearly three years since the last Cusp Trek), the fact that her massive crest kept knocking pictures off the wall in the dining room whenever she moved her head was a big giveaway. That and all the drool..."
 "You're sure? I don't want to have to go back and fit in more explanation and such-like."
 "Positive. Besides, no one except Tim really reads this guff, and he's not even here!"
 "Fine" I snapped. "Let's just get this over with.  Roll credits!"   
 

Starring (in order of appearance):

Sulu - Beast

Janice Rand - Miss Scarlet
Chekov - 'Petra

'Bones' McCoy - IDV

Spock - a Cardboard Cut-out
Kirk - OFFICIAL SPARKY TIM CUT OUT N KEEP ACTION FIGURE & Plastic "no tackle" Tim

Uhura - Roses 

Valeris - Princess
Kerla - Cookie

Azetbur - First Nations

Scotty/Trip - Eros

Gorkon - LX

And special guest star:

Chang/Hideous Alien Queen - MJ

* Tim, rather rudely, proclaimed that Kim Cattrall was a "whory old dummy" here.

Spot the bunny

In the absence of anything terribly exciting or mystifying (it's been a slow couple of weeks), I thought I'd just give you a brief update of what's been happening here at Castlette DeVice.

First up, last weekend we had a visit from my sister, Indescribable DeVice, and my six week old niece, Lionel (not her real name, although I think it should be). My gods that baby can scream!

The screaming didn't seem to perturb Ming that much, as you can see below:

A sleeping Ming

Indescribable also left me with her familiar. She thought I'd pay it more attention than she does now that she's got a Lionel to look after. Although not quite a Moom, Gerbil (yes, Indescribable's that lazy that she couldn't be arsed to think up a name for it) is settling in nicely and not tormenting Inexcuseable's cats too much.

My new familiar, Gerbil. Great name, eh?

On Friday, Inexcuseable and her husband departed for a two week holiday, leaving me to my own devices. (Note the lowercase 'd' - No incest here).

So far, I've kept myself busy, mostly repotting and rearranging my modest array of potted plants. Although, the array is getting somewhat less modest as I can't seem to stop myself from visiting the garden centre!
Anyway, here's how my little potted garden is doing:

Oh, one final thing: I am no longer incommunicado. I have a new phone! My last phone slipped into a coma several months ago (December or January, I believe), and I couldn't put myself through the trauma of trying to find a suitable new one. Remember the drama when I was in need of a new PC?! 
The longer I put it off, the more used to not having one I got. However, after some almost relentless nagging from various friends & relatives, last week I finally caved and ended up with this: 

I've had it a week and sent three texts so far. I don't think I'm in any danger of exceeding my free 5000 per month...

So. That's it for now. I'm off over the Cusp in a little while, so I should have plenty to tell you when I get back.
 
 

The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts have landed!

Yes, those detestable polyestables have arrived safely with Princess in Australia.

* pauses while the entire Northern Hemisphere gives a collective sigh of relief *

Although, much to Princess's consternation, those pesky 'Shorts caused a commotion with the Empress's partially domesticated gnomes. Read all about it here.

In the mean time, I've updated TFGES Travel Map:

 

Preparation for the Infomaniac Garden Photos Event

As it's only a couple of months away, I thought I'd better get prepared for the annual Infomaniac Garden Photos Event.

I'm going back to my roots this year (no pun intended) in having only a back passage to bring forth into luxuriant green growth. From 1998 to 2008, I lived in a small rented terrace house with only a concreted passageway with which to call the shots in plant wise. There was a back lawn and paysho*, and a paved & gravelled front, but these were generally maintained by the landlord, so I made do with gardening in pots. As you can see below:

Then, in 2009, I moved in with my SP** in his large-gardened semi-detached property and suddenly had a whole, proper garden (front and back) to contend with. Here are some photos from our time together:

After we parted in September last year (anything but acrimoniously), I moved in with my sister, Inexcuseable DeVice (maiden name, as she's married). As she and her husband maintain their front and rear, I have been instructed to "do something out the back door as I hate seeing all that concrete!" So, I've made a start and I'm hoping it'll turn out something like my original back passage as the year progresses:

   
As you can see, the plants are coming on nicely. The top photo is from a month ago, and the bottom one from the other day.  Roll on August!


* Because I find the word patio vulgar.
** For those who don't know, or have forgotten, this is an SP.

Wrong way down a one-way street*

I wandered into Cromer last Saturday to find something suitable to send to Princess along with The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts. 
As it was a 20 minute walk into town, I decided to stop first at my favourite little cafe, Huckleberries, to recoup and gather myselves for the chore of shopping. I took a seat in the window with a coffee and a piece of their exquisite chocolate fridge cake and gazed out at the passers by.
After only a few minutes, I found myself captivated by a good-looking young man with some sort of backpack who walked towards the bus stop. I couldn't help but stare as he strode past; he was tall, slender but broad of shoulder, with a small head and enormous boots! He disappeared for a few minutes just around the corner, but my light stalking persistence paid off as he returned and walked back the way he'd come from. He had very short hair, almost a skinhead if not for the slightly longer hair on the top of his head, and a nice but serious face. In fact, he looked like he could be a bit rough. If required...

Anyway, I saw him again the next day as I was driving through Cromer with Inexcuseable and her husband. He was on his bike heading the wrong way down a one way street right at me!

Perhaps this means something?


* Sigh... OK, then. Treat it as a euphemism if you must.
   

w-w-w-WOW! TFGES contents

Embiggen by clickin'

OK, so it was just an excuse to see Eros in his next-to-nothings again...

w-w-w-WOW! TFGES Official Souvenir Edition

Click to embigulate

And the winner is...

... announced further down. This bit up here is for the build up.

First, a word from the Queen of the Elf Shorts, Andrea Knapp:

And now, without further ado, 

may I present the almosts and not quites:

Before we get to the runners up, 

we'd better have some heckling from the crowds:

So, on to the runners up:

Don't get your hopes up for a runners-up prize or anything as I'm fresh out.
Sorry.

And the winner is:

.

.

.

Congratulations Princess!

Yes Princess, you have won the much coveted, and always reviled, Freakin' Green Elf Shorts! And, you've not only won them for yourself, but for your country, too. This is the first time that the 'Shorts will be in Australia, and only the second time that they've travelled into the southern hemisphere.
Just don't let them escape once you have them, as they are an invasive species and will quickly become a threat to Australia's unique biodiversity.

I still have your address somewhere, but I'll email you to be sure before I send them off.


Thank you to everyone who took part to make this compo a success. Special thanks to Rimpy for his copious 'Shorts-based ejecta - You were so very close to winning. There was much gnashing of teeth and fingernails as I was deciding between you and Princess.
Good luck to everyone when Princess holds the compo. Which I'm hopeful will be soon. 

Dr De Vice's Dental Clinic is only loosely affiliated with the Infomaniac House of Beauty and cannot be held responsible or accountable for any mishaps or misery caused by the aforementioned institution. 

The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts Caption Competition

Here it is! The moment you've all been waiting for. And unlike last time, you won't need sunglasses as I've taken steps to tone down the glare from the Host's legs, thanks to a gift from Miss Scarlet.

Behold... The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts Caption Competition!

Get your thinking caps on and get those captions rolling.

Good luck!


EDIT 19.05.2013 07:40 - Your time is nearly up. The competition is only open until midday today, Sunday 19th May. If you have a devastatingly cutting or witty comment/caption for the above photo, now's the time to leave it.  I SAID NOW!


P.S. For the rules etc, see the previous post.
 

TFGES Caption Competition rules and preview

It's almost the moment you've been waiting for. In just a few short days, I shall be hosting:

The Freakin’ Green Elf Shorts Caption Competition
 

You've all been waiting very patiently, so I shall be getting this out of the way pretty quickly. After all, I've already had the misfortune to have those things upon my person once before. 
The competition will be open for one week only, then these wretched 'Shorts will be removed from my sight and sent, post haste, to the unlucky winner.
Before we get to the compo itself, there are a few rules & regulations that you may need to know. 

These rules and regulations are brought to you in association with that Infomaniac, MJ.*

“What do I have to do to win The Freakin’ Green Elf Shorts?” you ask. Take a long, hard look at the photo of IDV (that's me) wearing The Freakin’ Green Elf Shorts that will be posted here on Sunday, 12th May. Create a caption. Post your caption in the comments section. I’ll choose my favourite caption and post the winner’s name on, or just after, Sunday 19th May.

“May I enter more than once?” Enter as many captions as you wish, as often as you like.

“What happens if I win?” If you’re chosen as the lucky winner, I’ll send The 'Shorts to you. If you’re in another country, I’ll also send you a souvenir of my county & country; Norfolk, England, along with The 'Shorts. Bonus! Then it’s your turn to take a photograph of yourself wearing The 'Shorts and post it on your blog.

“I don’t have a blog or a website. Can I still enter?” No. You’re shite out of luck. Set yourself up with a blog because if you win, you must post a pic of yourself wearing The 'Shorts. We all want to see you make a fool of yourself like the previous winners have all done.

“If I send you my credit card number and access to my bank account, will you declare me the winner?” Bribery will not be tolerated. So far I have received bribes involving unlimited supplies of Boy Butter™, unlifelong membership of one of the most exclusive clubs in the Underworld, a gingerbread cottage and offers of sexual favours. Grovelling and begging is looked upon favourably but will not win you The 'Shorts.

“How long do I have to enter?” The competition closes at midday GMT on Sunday, May 19th. The winner will be announced by Monday, May 20th at whatever time I get around to it.

“What if I don’t want to win The 'Shorts but I want to tell you how stupid you look in The 'Shorts?” If you don’t want to win The 'Shorts you can still leave a comment. Just be sure to let me know it’s a comment and not a caption.

“Are those stains removable?” No amount of scrubbing will remove the stains. And why would you want to?

“Will you wash The 'Shorts before you send them to me?” Again, why would you want me to?

“I’m new here. What’s this all about?” If you’re wondering what this competition is all about, read The Definitive History of The Freakin’ Green Elf Shorts at MJ the Infomaniac's.
You may also like to peruse the map of their travels, as seen below:

Good luck, my pretties!


Ooh, before I go, here's that preview image:

REMINDER: Submit your captions by midday Greenwich Mean Time on Sunday, 19th May.






* Because I'm too damn lazy to do my own. Plus, MJ's are quite serviceable.

Persecuted by Preposterous Pests

Sorry I haven't been around for a few days. I've had one of those weeks...

It seems even Inexcuseable's home - my new home - is subject to the machinations of various supernatural flora and fauna. Am I destined never to be free of their plague?

Tuesday, 17:34 - Came downstairs to the unmistakeable odour of burning. Inexcuseable was sitting on the sofa, completely oblivious as she played Boggle on her newly acquired (she won it at work) Kindlefire. 
"Have you turned the oven on?" I asked her, rousing her from her Boggle-induced stupor. 
"Not yet" she replied, looking up cross-eyed.  
I quickly entered the kitchen and spied a flickering light though the oven's glass door. Without thinking, I opened the door. Luckily, I had my precognition switched on and ducked instinctively. 
There was a Phoenix in the oven. It screeched deafeningly and exploded out of the oven on fiery wings, launching itself out of the window and into the late-afternoon sky.
"Oh, yeah" Inexcuseable mumbled. "I forgot to tell you about that."

Thursday, 17:11 - Home from work early, I reversed Car up the drive, gathered my various accoutrements and opened Car's door to get out. At the last second I noticed the huge steaming pile of dogs mess slap-bang in the middle of the gravel, right where I was about to put my feet.  
And then the stench hit me, almost knocking me back into Car. Something this huge and repulsive didn't come from any normal dog. No, this evil-smelling, enormous pile of faintly glowing faeces could only have come from one creature: Black Shuck. 

Friday, 11:48 - Left the house when The Mother pulled up outside to pick me up and heard a whimpering from round the corner. I took a few steps from the front door and turned slightly to look over my right shoulder. There, cornered in front of the bins by Ming (AKA Spike II), was Black Shuck. The huge, black, demon dog looked pleading at me before cringing backwards out of reach of a vicious swipe from Ming's claws.
"Well, you shouldn't have shat on our driveway, should you?" I said, before getting in The Mother's car and being whisked driven very slowly away.

Saturday, 14:23 - Well, bang goes repotting my spathiphyllum. I wandered out to the greenhouse, the plant, cramped in its pot, in my arms, my eyes almost closed as I squinted in the sun. Upon reaching the greenhouse, I put the plant down and slid open the door.
"Fwwwaaaarrghhh!" I snorted as a cloud of hot, sulphurous gas billowed out and enveloped me. 
There was a dragon in the greenhouse. A smallish one, mind, but a dragon nonetheless.  And no amount of shooing with my gardening gloves would shift it.

Today, 14:22 - While writing this post, I reached over to the packet of fruit pastilles beside me, my eyes not leaving the screen. My fingers didn't find the shiny, plastic wrapper of the chewy sweets. No. Instead they touched a strangely velvety, yet crispy, fabric. I turned my head to see what it was.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!"
The 'Shorts!  The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts!!
They had escaped their prison and were sneaking up on me!

Gah!  I suppose I'd better hold the flippin' compo asap so I can be rid of them?