"Get a feel for your craft! You can steer slight left and right, up and down. Circle on the craft's own axis. But don't get carried away and fly into each other!" Ordered Dr. Goma.
"How fast can we go? Over," asked Ben.
"Be careful, these things can make it to the Bermuda Triangle in less than five!" Goma informed them.
"Captain's log, stardate 4.2 9000. We have just traveled through the cosmic vortex of angry heliocentric outbursts, having escaped a Vulcan onslaught, war vessels of chrome-plated and neon stealth laserblasters and leaving the crew in a dire state of an unknown paradox." Penn reported over the radio.
"Could you hear us back at Hell's Basin, before you landed?" Sketch asked Goma casually.
"No. No radio contact. By the way, what were you saying? Because it looked strange."
"Welcome to the Islands!" Igor answered.
"Lovely ship, fine cruiser, beats anything on the Autobahn." Lurch answered, as well. "I said 'Get outta here, we don't want any!'" Ben put in.
"Why did you throw a dart at my head, SpewHari?" Sketch asked grimly.
"I thought I saw a spider, then it was you!" SpewHari assured her in a calm voice. "I apologize sincerely."
There was a moment of strained silence and just a slight murmur of static on their radios.
"Besides, I was unfocused, trying, struggling with every last breath to free myself from a messy glue that had somehow leaked into the vent."
"Glue?" asked Igor. "The vents are in such disrepair!"
"Holy shit!" Boris chimed in.
"Ah...I don't know if I should bring this up, but I have a monster spider in here with me! It's looking confused, disoriented and hungry..." replied Midgetknuckle.
"Don't panic Midgetknuckle! It's just not worth it! Going to the Bermuda Triangle just because you're afraid of spiders!" said Penn over the radio loud and clear enough to make all the others flinch.
"I'm gonna have to come out of my ship when we all land, to retrieve my pet tarantula!" Sketch informed Goma and the rest. After about fifteen minutes of slow, shaky flying, the crew came upon some place to land the first of the forty-three ships.
Meanwhile, back at some highway cafe parking lot, a truckdriver had picked up on most of the radio conversation. He looked pale and confused as he drank from a Peptol Bismol bottle. Quiet and quietly unhinged.
"I have a place to land her. Right there, five degrees, 11 o'clock. Bring 'em down." Boris called out as they started to land over a large area that used to be an old fort. Boris disconnected from the tractor beam at about 35 feet, landed and exited his craft. Sketch exited her craft, retrieved her spider from Midgetknuckle's hair and put it in her chest pocket and zipping it halfway. Boris put on his landed craft a sign that said "NO ALIEN FREAKS ALLOWED!" and climbed into another craft. Sketch got back into her UFO. Midgetknuckle gathered himself. Within seconds they were up again. They each took turns disconnecting and landing their respective spacecrafts.
Wednesday chose a field with a huge red barn to land one of the craft. She left a sign that read "Wet Paint". Mortamule picked out a road that lead to a junkyard. His idea of a good slogan was "We Don't Need No Stinking Buicks!" while Midgetknuckle landed his craft pretty damned close to a police station with a sign that said "I Hate The Cops!" SpewHari found a candy factory and landed in a half filled parking lot. Barely able to run all the way back to another craft, climbing in, that the mother-ship was able to take off, so she wouldn't be spotted by third shift workers. Her little bold sign read "Candygram. Not UFO."
Penn found a golf course and landed there, giving the ship a few dents in the process. He put up a sign that stated "Skeet Shooting Sucks!" Another couple of his ideas had included various rural areas and slogans of 'Treehouse' 'Extra addition to barn' & 'Target Practice'. Teller landed in some field way out in the middle of nowhere, and simply wrote for a calling card "I Fucking Quit! No More Crop Circles!"
Dr. George landed several craft but felt no need to put any signs on them. Ben left a craft or two bearing the "Moo's R Us" symbol he created. Lurch and Mole left signs to the effect of "Radiation Levels May Be Safe-- But Ya Never Know!" Igor found delight in landing one of the crafts upon a pier stating a simple "Cure Your Hiccups Today!" and Sketch was happy landing behind a park's amphitheater bearing a sign that read "Property Of Michael Jackson".
All through the night they went about their task, until at last it was time to return to Hell's Basin. With just two crafts left and the mother-ship, they decided who flew back in what ship. When it came down to who was to pilot the remaining UFO's, they argued. Penn won one by sheer luck and cheating at a card trick. Teller won the other by the simple reason everyone stood around and claimed that he sent them instructions telepathically while they landed each time and how he had called for that priviledge. Dr. Goma and Dr. George flipped for who piloted the mother-ship. Dr. Goma won.
"Yeah, they'll believe this! We get stuck out in Hell's Basin, some weirdos steal a fleet of spaceships from Area 51, Roswell wasn't taking anymore aliens, leav- ing us holding the bag! We have to ditch the spaceships in wheatfields, parking lots, lighthouses, drive-in theaters, amphitheaters and all of them has samples of our handwriting all over them! I have to sign shit every night after our show! I might as well sign my name as 'Felon'! Meanwhile I still don't know what I'm going to do with 'this' UFO...I could fly outta here and not HAVE to go back to Hell's Basin...but then I'd have to bring these mad scientists with me and they're all probably on NASA's shitlist, not to mention...I'm a felon..." Penn states in a continuous tone before sighing. Their little adventure wasn't over yet and they all knew it.
"You know, Fester," Sketch brings up a point. "My spider is somewhere in this ship, and we're cramped as it is...don't frighten the poor thing as it likes to jump when scared."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRGGGGGHHHH!" said Penn.