Joint Backlog | Noah Waterhouse, Gnocchi (NPCs) | "Potatoes are Pasta Too"

Posted on Wed Oct 15th, 2014 @ 11:28am by Commander Tristan Neyes PhD.

1,808 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Are You Touched?

=/\= Klingon Planet, "K3" =/\=

"Noodle," Gnocchi said affectionately as she idly plucked away at a leaf, standing over the sleeping form of Noah. The two of them were draped in the waning morning shade of leafy palm-like trees, the cool morning was already giving way to the intense heat of the day. After being stranded on the planet they'd dubbed "K3", she'd taken it upon herself to wake their illustrious leader at the earliest opportunity.

"Noodle, wake up." Her blonde dreadlocks draped down like robust pasta over her face.

One eye opened, looking up at the source of disturbance. Shutting it again quickly, Noah rolled over, pulling his jacket up over his head to hide from the woman and the sunlight. He was absolutely tired, he'd been up all night talking to the little pirates that lived on this planet. His universal translator Dad had given him finally figured out their speech. They'd been in awe as the little gold toned ball of spaghetti and meatballs screeched and clicked at them when he spoke, and how it spoke to him when they screeched at it.

He'd finally been able to calm them down enough to let him go sleep as the sun had started to sneak above the horizon.

"NOODLE!", she screamed, her voice breaking the octaves and filling the beach with her intense volume. It was so high and loud, that most everyone on the shore was now paying them exclusive attention. She was now mere inches from his face, her smooth, tan features speckled with dust and sand. A broad smile lit up around her teeth, and she slowly pulled down the jacket he'd hidden under.

"It's time for morning prayer." She whispered, a fairy-like giggle trailing behind.

"Okay, okay, I'm up," he muttered. "Get the rum, and I'll be there." He waved his hands to shoo her away as he sat up. His hand blindly fumbled for his spaghetti colander, dropping it on top of his head when he found it. Glancing around, he found a collection of brown and green mottled faces shyly peeking out of the ferns along the tree line. "Come on, you can join us," he said as he pulled the Flying Spaghetti Monster pin from the pocket of his jacket and it started to screech and click.

The first one to leave the cover of the plants was the one Noah had taken to calling freckles. The creature had taken off with Noah's formal pirate hat, and when Noah had tracked it down he thought Freckles looked adorable in the hat and didn't have the heart to take it back. Slowly others followed.

Another excited scream penetrated the air as Gnocchi locked her gaze onto the adorable little bundled alien trodding along under Noah's hat. She skipped over to the creature and hurriedly scooped it up in her arms, spinning like a top and holding it high in the air like a child. She giggled and threw up sand with her bare feet, play-dancing with Freckles and all his or her cuteness.

"Look at you! OOoooooh! Aww! Look at YOU!!!" Gnocchi gasped and coo'd at the hat-wearing Freckles, pressing it against her cheeks and continuing to spin jovially.

Noah chuckled as he picked himself up off the patch of ground he'd been stretched out on. "If you don't go get the rum, Gnocchi, we're not going to please the Flying Spaghetti Monster," he chastised her gently with a grin.

There had been so much to love about Noah and his adorable, passionate introduction of them to the teachings of the great pasta sky creature. At first, Gnocchi thought he was just trying to trick them, and she'd been a little reluctant to believe the truth of his words. Then something happened, like a switch she'd accepted the magical being of noodles into her heart. Like all things it was silly not to partake in what was so obviously meant to be, so she went ahead and accepted Noah into her heart, and into her bed. At least... she thought so.

After all the drinking it was hard to remember sometimes.

"RUM!!!!!" She cried, diving off to towards the tents to retrieve the bottles. She quickly returned with two, and handed one to her handsome compatriot. "Rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, ruuuuuuummmmm..." Gnocchi started humming, and drinking. She cart-wheeled herself back to ward the native aliens and the rest of the crew, plopping down in the sand. Her incredibly high-pitched squeal quickly followed when one of the younger aliens ran over to sit in her lap, and she heartily greeted him with a series of adorable cooing sounds.

"Thanks be to our noodley savior," Noah said, loudly, as he beckoned his flock of pirates closer. Those from The Pelican, as well as the natives of the planet, moved closer. Noah took a pull from the bottle of Rum in his hand, and passed it to the nearest person. "Let us thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for guiding our ship to this planet without harming anyone within. Thank him for guiding us to our new pirate friends."

The rum bottle passed among the group, even the little aliens tried it. Some made faces, some screeched about it, eliciting words from the pin on the front of Noah's shirt that included weird, biting, and woozy. Among those who had come on the ship, the word Ramen issued forth, said with the same sort of reverence that a Christian might say Amen.

"Noah," Gnocchi asked as she stroked the bald little head of an alien in her lap, "Why Ramen?" Her quizzical gaze followed a tilt of her head, and her own pull from the bottle of rum. The bottle was replaced quickly into the lap of the little alien, and he licked idly at the edge of the mouth.

"Ramen, being a pasta, reminds us that the Flying Spaghetti Monster touches each and every one of us with his noodley appendage," Noah answered, laying a hand on his chest above where his heart lie. "Even before the times of replicators, ramen was plentiful, as is the Flying Spaghetti Monster's love. And it was easy and quick to prepare, as it is easy and quick to understand the Flying Spaghetti's Monster's love for all creatures."

"Raaaaammmmen," the nasal tones of the aliens spoke the word and a hushed, reflective awe was evident in their astounding fascination with Noah. Gnocchi too, found him to have more than just a passing grasp of life. The man brought with him super-interesting things like alcohol, and rum, and booze, and pasta. He was everything she had been looking for plus more. Each time he stood in front of the group, even since they'd majorly crashed down on the super-neat planet, she felt really good. Gnocchi thought maybe... she loved him.

Shaking her head and giggling, she took another pull from the bottle of rum and screamed into the sky, bellowing her approval for all the planet to hear. " RAAAAAAAAMMMMMMEN!!!!!"

"Let us raise our voice in pirate song, to show our thanks to the Flying Spaghetti Monster for his love," Noah directed, and he cleared his throat. Some of his longer term crew did likewise, and one even hummed a scale.

"What shall we do?" one sang, as another chimed in on his tail, repeating the words sung. Two more did the same, then all four sung in harmony, "What shall we do with a drunken sailor?"

They were all getting along so well! At first, Gnocchi was afraid the anti-social starfleet officer and some of the others were going to take them away from the cute little monster-aliens. Now though, they were singing and laughing, like old friends do with their families. She could see this becoming her new home, so many attractive people and cute little macaroni aliens. Even if they'd stayed on that planet forever, she could also see Noah becoming accustomed to teaching the ways of the great Spaghetti Monster in the sky to his new flock. Maybe there were other aliens on the planet too!

Gnocchi looked to the little guy in her lap, and she slowly said the word rum for him to repeat. "Ruuuummmm. Rum is yum."

As the Pirates sang, Noah moved next to Gnocchi. "Go slow with the rum with these new pirates. We don't know how much the Flying Spaghetti Monster touched their creation, and how well their system will handle the Holy beverage," he told her gently, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She immediately made a loud, raspberry like sound, "They don't even hardly drink it! They just lick the bottle like cute little puppy aliens. Or kittens..." her eyes grew wide as a thought entered her mind. "Noah! Do you think puppies and kittens drink rum? What if these, these aliens, were once kittens and puppies! Is rum going to make spaghetti monsters of us ALL? How holy are we talking here, huh?" Her voice betrayed her very real worry, and even as she said the words they came out shaky. The great power of the pasta above was still very new to her.

"The Flying Spaghetti Monster loves us all, and the only thing he ever changes is our capacity to love. We're not turning into Spaghetti Monsters, nor were these guys ever puppies or kittens," he assured her softly, resting his hand on the crown of her head. He worried about Gnocchi sometimes, but she was generally sweet and well meaning.

"HUNGRY." Off the handle, and without warning, Gnocchi tossed the little alien into the air out of her lap. The poor creature screamed in surprise and landed unharmed in the sand behind her, scrambling back to the group of the others. Gnocchi was up and bouncing into the wilderness, not a care in the world for anyone or anything except the driving need to eat something colorful and tasty. Her blonde locks were braided into a large chunk behind her and were the last thing to be seen as she vanished into the brush, humming a jaunty tune.

Noah sighed softly as she disappeared. She needed more help than the Flying Spaghetti Monster could possibly give her through Noah, but he wasn't sure what he could do to find her better help here on this planet that was to be their home for at least the next little while. For now, he'd just do his best with what they had. He turned his attention to his merry band of pirates, and joined in their singing. It was a lovely day, even if he could stand to have a little more sleep. That's what mid afternoon naps are for, yeah?

=/\= End Log =/\=

Noah Waterhouse
Pastafarian Minister and Artist
apb Pond

Gnocchi
Pastafarian Refugee
apb Landon

 

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