GAME OVER, MAKEMAKE

Jun 3rd 2011, 14:10 by E O Hatterpol | 647 AU FROM SUN

WE PUSHED deeper and deeper into the cold crater tunnel, keeping just ahead of the murderous space pirates chasing us.


"Where do you think this is going?" I shouted breathlessly to Ravisius as we sprinted.


"Not sure," he replied, shouting over the din of his own papery movements.  "But by the way it's winding downwards, my best guess is that it leads to the mouth of a cave."


"How do you - oh," I said, glancing at a book under his left shoulder blade.  It read "Spelunking and You: How Dark, Wet Caves Can Change Your Life Forever".


After a few tense minutes of sprinting, the dark corridor opened up into a vast underground cave.  Its ceiling arched for a time before shooting straight upwards to the mouth of the crater.  Captain Makemake's lair was big enough to hide a starship.


Come to think of it, that's probably why he picked it.


"WHOA!" I exclaimed despite myself.  My surprise went bouncing off the walls in all directions.


"BINGO!" came the response.  We looked around frantically, keeping half an ear perked for approaching footsteps behind us.  And then we saw Captain Makemake standing up from a huddle of pirates.  They were probably hatching gruesome pirate plans together until I showed up and interrupted them.


"Don't touch ANYTHING," Makemake warned, pointing at one of his pirates.  "When I come back, I want Kamchatka... and I'm going to GET Kamchatka.  I'll be damned if I don't get that seven-soldier bonus!"


He squared himself to me and brought himself to his full height.  He must have been nine feet tall.


"Glad you could make it, Mr Hatterpol," Makemake said with a sinister grin.


"How do you know my name?" I asked, squeezing the neck of my beer bottle reflexively.


"I know everything there is to know about you," he replied, grinning.  "I know where you're going and why you're going there.  I know which university you attended.  I've read your Master's thesis - it sucked, by the way - and could point to your mother's house on a map.  I even know your name."


"No!" I shouted in terror.  "That's not possible!  Nobody knows what E O stands for except me!"


Captain Makemake's shoulders trembled, his lips split into a grin and he started laughing.  His inner psychosis was multiplied a thousandfold against the walls of his lair.  Standing there, it seemed like he filled the entire cave.


"Now," he boomed, "are you ready to tell me how to get to the Homesphære, or am I going to have to bring out Operation?  I must confess, I'm not skilled at that game.  Whenever I try to remove the Writer's Cramp for 200 points, the stupid guy's red nose lights up and starts buzzing!"


"You're a writer, aren't you, Mr Hatterpol?" he continued, mocking me.  "Because I'd just hate to have any mishaps when I remove YOUR Writer's Cramp."


He cracked his knuckles menacingly.


"Dude, what is with the bleeding board games, man?  And I don't even know where the Homesphære is!  I thought the captain and crew knew."


"Who... these guys?" he said, flourishing a craggy arm towards one side of the cave.


Ravisius and I turned our heads to look, and we could barely believe what we saw.  The captain and all the crew had been strung up in some sick, life-size rendition of Mouse Trap.


"Now," Makemake continued, "either you give me the coordinates for the Homesphære or I start putting Flybrarians through that giant bathtub up there.  I bet their necks will snap quite nicely once they hit the red slide."


The sight of all my new friends in danger gave me courage I'd never had before.


"That's it!" I growled, crouching into attack mode and pointing my broken beer bottle straight at his ugly face, "Game Over, Makemake."