While Venomous is celebrating his birthday, we have some news which shouldn’t surprise anyone, even though it is highly irritating.
It seems that our incompetent excuse for a chief executive has once again decided that the American President bows to foreign heads. Check here for details.
In my opinion, such activity qualifies as a high crime or a misdemeanor. Unfortunately, our sorry excuse for a congress will not even consider impeachment proceedings.
[SCENE:  Onboard Titanic, outside Transporter Room 1. The same crew that pulled this stunt off has congregated close to the doorway.]
KORRIOTH:  Okay, we’re set on the plan, right?  We’ll beam in, hide in a strategic location, and wait on His Rudeness’ return.
EMPEROR MISHA:  Assuming he hasn’t already figured out the plan – surprising me & my brood last time was  his idea, y’know.
KORRIOTH:  Trust me – he’s too panicked about the TCU game to have even given it a second thought.
CLAUDIUS:  I s-s-s-sure h-h-h-op-p-p-e s-s-s-s-o, Mr Korrioth sir.
KORRIOTH:  Relax, Claudius.  My people & yours are at peace.
CLAUDIUS:  Oh, okay.
B.C.:  Where’s my damned beer?
KORRIOTH:  Wizard…?
[Chief Engineer Merlin gestures, and the requisite case of beer appears before B.C.’s gaping eyes.  B.C. shakes his head in wonder.]
B.C.:  How the fuck d’ya do that?
MERLIN:  Several decades of school, young’un.  Plus a century or two of apprenticeship.
CALIGULA:  Says the whippersnapper.
MERLIN: 
KORRIOTH:  Awright, enough!  We only have a few minutes to get down there before they come back with the pizza.  Everyone have their hiding place scoped out?
OZY MCCOOL:  In other words, find a pile of dust and hide behind it?
MERLIN:  Mrs. Venomous would kill you for saying that.
OZY MCCOOL:  I’m dead anyway, remember?
T-BONE MCMANX:  He’s got you there, Commander.
MERLIN:  Mheh.
KORRIOTH:  SpatulaGoddess, you have the birthday cake?
THE SPATULAGODDESS:  Angel-food pineapple upside-down cake with Splenda©, per your request, Captain.
KORRIOTH:  Excellent, m’lady.  Your service to the Realm™ is worthy of song.  Oh, but no Tazmanian clean-up dervishes until later, if you would – Ozy’s right; we need those dust-bunnies for cover.
THE SPATULAGODDESS:  (blush!)
[The group approches the transporter room door, and it parts silently & obediently…to reveal Lord Darth Venomous at the controls.  There is a smug grin on his face, as if he knew all along this was coming.]
VENOMOUS:  Going somewhere, boys?
[The group collectively gapes in wonder.  Korrioth is the first to find his voice.]
MERLIN:  How…how did you…you…?
VENOMOUS:  It’s in the script.  [He hands a stack of papers to Korrioth.]  Right there on page three, see?
RAYEGUN:  Dammit, I knew  we shoulda used non-union!
VENOMOUS: 
—
Yes, Denizens.  I’m 47 today.  Feel free to tip one or eight (grin) in my honor.
Denizens, you may have noticed my associates, Mr. Hartung & General Rayegun, have penned three of the last four entries.
There’s a reason for that.  There’s a problem over here at Chez Venomous, and free time for the next three or four weeks is going to be at a premium.
When all is said and done, I’ll deliver the after-action report.  Until then, if there are days when this blog is silent, fret not.
MERLIN:  I doubt The Six Or Seven™ are wringing their hands in angst, y’know?
VENOMOUS:  Yeah, I know.  But there are some  out there who will enjoy the schadenfreude.
K’HADIBAK’H:  (snort!)
Anyway, watch this space.