The Flying Comradeearliest post first | most recent post first
I've decided to forego the remote connection, and actually join the crew of The Flying Comrade as one of them. That is, a giant guinea pig. Or, in my case, a man in a giant guinea pig suit.
There's no way we can truly act as a team unless I'm right there with them, claws on the deck. I need to drink from the same stainless steel tube, eat the same pellets, and yes, use the same bedding for my biological functions. Then we can really bond, and I can take the crew to the next level.
I'm also refreshing myself in revolutionary Marxist theory, just so we can be sure of speaking the same language.
I will say the mobile interface for commnicating with the giant guinea pigs is not ideal. I mean, it’s not like some game where you can just drive the ship—it’s all about human-animal communication, and if you can make a real CONNECTION with the critters, and it’s hard when all they can see is a FaceTime-sized closeup. It’s better when they have a bigger view, and can see my whole guinea pig costume and I can communicate with body movements, popcorning around and stuff. I’ve also created a life-sized habitat for me to broadcast from, which I keep stocked with hay and a cardboard maze. I think it really helps them trust me.
The weirdest part is realizing those little guinea pigs on the screen are actually the size of mini cars! I only get to see them through the picto-screen, so it's easy to forget they're giant guinea pigs, operating a life-size airship. And when I push the little button to make a pellet come out on the ship, it's a tray the size of a bureau drawer opens up and delivers a pellet the size of a loaf of bread. But we're getting the hang of working together. Maybe it's time to take them out in public.
Hey this sounds like a lot of fun! Whisper Genius is introducing me to the guinea pigs and teaching me all about their little idiosyncrasies. They're so cute to watch through the picto-screen I can't wait to see what kind of fun we'll have together! Thanks Whisper Genius!
Job claimed by Ben Tater 2018-08-05 22:44:03
Fly your own airship--from the comfort of your own home!
Have you always wished to be the captain of your own airship, but have found that the commitments are just too much?
Do you like controlling large lighter-than-air craft through the familiar screen of your own computer?
Do you have an interest in giant guinea pigs?
Then the Flying Comrade is looking for you!
We've got an airship full of passionate Marxist-separatist guinea pigs of exceedingly large size who need YOU to help give them direction in life. And in the air! Sure. they're spunky and have minds of their own, but love the firm hand of guidance and mentorship, especially when communicated via picto-screen and the remote-release of enormous kibble pellets. You stay home and tell these guinea pigs what to do as they drive their airship through the sky, wreaking havoc and liberating the proletariat as they go!
Live the Dream today!
Please respond via this service to Whisper Genius, emcee emeritus of the Whisper Genius.
Oh I give up. You can't teach these giant guinea pigs a thing! At the very least, Scruffy has found a good home, but I've found the Guinea Pig Red Liberation Army impossible to control. At least in terms of complicated heist scenarios.
Which is why I've decided to monetize my interest in these giant guinea pigs and their airship by renting it out for remote control. As previously stated, "control" might be too strong a word, but at the very least I can rent out access to the picto-screen and the ability to open and close the interior treat-chutes for their giant kibble. While clients may not be able to get them to act with any kind of precision, one can affect their behavior in a general sense, which might prove amusing for someone wishing to surprise their wife on her birthday, or drop loads of giant guinea pig poop on the unsuspecting crowd at a football match.
So! If you or someone you love would like to take remote control of The Flying Comrade, and attempt to provide guidance to this unruly crew of giant guinea pigs, please contact me through this social media site and I'm sure we can come to a mutually agreeable arrangement.
Of course I knew all the cash would get soiled. I told the giant cavies that's what it was for--it was the only way to interest them in breaking it out of the bank. My plan had been to direct them to pilot the ship to a safe location not more than a day or two away, and then have them dump it where I could retrieve it. Naturally, I was planning on having it laundered, but how messy could it get after just a day or two?
It turned out very messy. Something about all the smells and bacteria and pheromones all over that dough made those guinea pigs go go go! They were tremendously excited, and drank huge amounts of water and chomped down their pellets and Timothy hay and started popcorning around the ship, causing some minor damage to the decks. And they were too agitated to take my instructions over the picto-screen, and instead drove the ship right over the parking lot at the outlet mall and dumped it all out there. All the poop, and all the urine soaked bills.
At first, the people in the parking lot were confused to see the 10's and 20's floating down over them, spinning in the air like snow flakes. They must have thought it was a game show, or a promotion, and began racing around the parking lot, scooping up the bills and stuffing them into their pockets and clothes... until that rank, ammonia guinea pig pee smell settled in, and they began to notice the french bread-sized turds falling from the sky as well. At this point many of them retched, and fled back to their cars. It was all captured on cell phone video and posted on the internet. You probably saw it.
In the chaos, the Guinea Pig Liberation Army went back to doing what they do best, and knocked over a Pet Smart and took all the bedding and guinea pig pellets and Timothy hay and headed back to the skies.
The most difficult part of the job turned out to be tearing the roof off the bank. After breaking the winch on the first two attempts, Beefy Ray Cakes suggested the dynamite.
"Well, why didn't you list that among our assets in the first place?" I asked.
"WEEEEEEK WEEEK WEEEK WEEEEK!" squealed Beefy Ray Cakes.
After blowing the roof off the vault, Ruth, Handsome Becky, and Monkey Magic skittered down the ropes and began scooping up the bills, which now lay loose in piles amongst the rubble. Scruffy lowered the net and they loaded up a giant bundle, and we had time for two more before the sirens got near.
As soon as the ship was clear, all the guinea pigs rushed to the hold and began to sniff at the giant piles of money. Then, using their massive, triceratops-sized heads, they spread it around the hold. They pushed it with their snouts out into the passageways, and into all the compartments, including the deck.
And then they started peeing and pooping all over it.
Raiding giant produce farms had been the bread and butter of the Guinea Pig Red Liberation Army. They know how to sniff them out from the air, and security is low enough that an airborne approach is usually successful. They're adept with the winches and pulleys and can fill the hold with huge carrots and heads of lettuce. I've told them if they want my experience on board as an advisor then we need to up our game. They squeak and look attentive during my presentations via the view screen, but they're so used to living a cash-free lifestyle, it just doesn't compute for their giant guinea pig brains.
Aside from food, the other thing they understand is bedding. They gather up old newspaper and fill the ship with it, then dump it out when it gets too stinky. This has given me an idea...
The bank robbery was a disaster. Navigating the behavior of the giant guinea pigs on the ship was no trouble--release a pellet and ZOOM goes the ship. Hard to starboard! About port! And with the help of Google Maps I was able to guide The Flying Comrade right where it needed to be. In transit, via closed circuit TV, I had the guinea pigs study a series of diagrams I had made of the interior of the bank, describing the role each guinea pig would play in the heist. As a safety precaution, none of us used our own names, but instead used the code names I had given them: Handsome Becky, Yul, Hermione, Chuckles, Beefy Ray Cakes, Monkey Magic, and Ruth. Scruffy remained Scruffy because I already knew his name so it didn't matter.
As soon as the guinea pigs entered the bank, it was chaos. They shut the front door behind them and squealed out "WEEEEEEEEEEEEK! WEEEEK WEEEEK WEEEEK WEEEEK WEEEEEEEK!" but instead of hugging the ground, everyone in the bank ran around frantically. This spooked the giant guinea pigs who began to tear around the lobby of the old bank, popcorning and occasionally smashing an old woman sitting on a couch. And of course there was pooping. When some bank customers finally opened up the doors and ran outside, all of the guinea pigs joined them in the stampede, trampling patrons with their mighty girth. Once outside, they found the rope ladder leading up to the ship and quickly scampered up. The ship then beat a hasty retreat.
During our debrief, it became clear the guinea pigs didn't understand the value of money, or why we wanted it, or even what it was. I thought it would appeal to their radical anti-capitalism, but I guess it was too abstract. I will need to focus their attention on something more concrete. Something that appeals more to their guinea pig nature.