Gort vs Xmas

**Communications restored**

Commander's log, Stardate 24122012.2:

It was the eve of the birthday of the great space-god X and we were stuck here like rats in a maze. It had been nearly two weeks since that thing was set loose, living day to day. We huddled in the bowels of the Mothership, only five of us left: myself, Gort, Admiral Moon's incorporeal, floating head, Helen Cox of New Empress Magazine and Walter The Einstein Frog. Helen clung to Walter like he was a child, while Gort and I crept around corners, waiting for it to strike.

"Will you quit with the log already, we're gonna die here."

"We're not gonna die, Helen, it's a squirrel. I refuse to be murdered by a psychopathic squirrel," I replied.

"It is an exceptionally well-made squirrel..." Gort mumbled.

Suddenly, the illumination vanished and we were left in the harsh glow of red emergency lighting...
"It... cut the power," Admiral Moon stuttered out.

"Busy little creature, huh?" Gort deadpanned.

"What do it mean, 'It cut the power'? How could it cut the power? It's an animal!" I whispered.

"It mostly comes at night... mostly... *ribbit*" Commander Walter muttered to himself. 

If Gort could have smiled, he would have, as he pulled a flamethrower from the pack on his back. "I like to keep this handy... for close encounters," he snarked.

"I feel safer already," I mumbled.

"Remember: short, controlled bursts," Admiral Moon advised.

So, we proceeded, with Gort firing his flamethrower around corners ahead of ourselves as we cautiously crept around the ship in search of the dreaded Ninja Squirrel.

"Hot as hell in here," Helen complained.

"Yeah man, but it's a dry heat..." Gort began to respond but was cut off by a sudden crack as the wall fell away and he was snatched away into a dark void that was left where the squirrel had gnawed through.

"Gort, no!" Helen screamed.

"It's coming outta the goddamn walls. Let's book!" I cried, dragging Helen along with us, "Admiral, we are LEAVING!"

We ran for three bulkheads before a noise stopped us in our tracks. It sounded like... chewing...

"Move!" I bellowed as the ceiling began to cave in. When the rumbling stopped, the squirrel stood in our path, throwing stars at the ready.

"Go, I'll hold him off!" Admiral Moon insisted as he floated his head directly at the squirrel with a war cry.

I picked up Helen and dived into the nearest hatchway, finding ourselves in the shuttle bay.

"We'd move faster without the frog..." I growled as I got up.

"Screw you too," Walter spat.

"Ribbit off, frog boy..." My retort was cut short as a paralysing screech rung out through the cargo bay and Ninja Squirrel came summersaulting towards us.

"Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast!" Helen shouted.">

"Relax, I got this," I smirked as I pulled Gort's discarded flamethrower from my pack and let loose on the now-flaming ball of fur.

I couldn't believe my eyes. "It's a robot. The squirrel is a god damn robot," I whispered. The squirrel's fur had burned away leaving the familiar pattern of metal and circuitry. "What the hell...?"

The squirrel froze as a demented laughter filled the hanger. "Do you like my creation?" Walter bellowed, "I disposed of Gort's little furry pet and replaced him with my synthoid ninja squirrel!"

"Why? Why would you do that?" I queried.

"To defeat you! My scheme is brilliant and fiendish."

"Oh no, my one weakness, robot squirrels..." I deadpanned as I shot a sarcastic look to Helen... who I suddenly realised look exceptionally guilty... "You were in on this?!"

"He was going to make me watch Gigli agai-heh-hen!!" Helen balled.

"Enough! Squirrel, kill them both!" Walter cackled in triumph, but was interrupted by the scream of an engine.

"Get away from them, you bitch!" A metallic voice cried as a bizarre flying vehicle roared across the hanger, ramming the robot squirrel into the wall and shattering it. It then swooped back and Gort grabbed Helen and me respectively and pulled us into the passenger compartment, before banking away out of the hanger into space, to the consternated cries of Walter.

"Oh, Gort, you're so brave!" Helen swooned.

"That squirrel was no match for me, baby."

"What the hell is this thing?" I asked, marvelling at the candy-cane covered flying car.

"Oh, well you remember that flying car I had when I was on that Fast and The Furious kick? Well, I converted it into a super Santa car with the intention of conning small children. Got the idea from Santa Claus: The Movie."

"You always were an asshole, Gort!" the three of us laughed as the car curved over Earth's horizon and into the sunset.

The preceding post was a complete piece of bobbins intended to thank the small group of wonderful people who have supported the blog this past year. As well as the regular crew, honourable mentions go out to Paul TanterLee Medcalf, Darren BarnardGavin Johnson, Chris Johnson (no relation), Mike and Ike, Pete Kelk, Elton McManus, Gillian Coyle, Matt Dillon, Ama Zing and the lovely Sarah Lazell. Merry Christmas to you all and to everyone who has read this blog and not immediately thought "What the hell is this crap?". Gort and The Commander will see you all in the new year.