Honorverse Humor or lack thereof.

Brigade XO wrote:

cthia wrote:"Why won't they respond to our hails mam?"

"They can't afford to have us ask them any questions."

Probably even thinking about answering is going to kill too many people on an Alignment SN ship.

I think we are deep in Catch-22 here.

Yep, maintaining radio silence means something totally different for the MAN.

"Don't you dare answer that phucking phone!"

Welcome back to the forum lyonheart. I previously missed a detail in our last exchange. Your line would have broken the rhythm and meter that was used by Thayer in the original poem. He used iambic heptameter throughout.

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day.

lyonheart wrote:Hi,

Sorry I missed this earlier, but I haven't kept track of things at the forums for quite a while.

Kudos for the amusing distraction in these times , and being so well composed, I hope it didn't take too much time but shouldn't the last line be "But Honor, Mighty Honor had struck them out?"

Keep smiling,

lyonheart

cthia wrote:As far as the last line, I think it is correct. Seeing as though the whole thing is a parody of "Casey at the Bat."

I tried to remain true to the original as much as possible, which reads . . .

But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.

As sort of a pep talk for the world during these trying times. A repost and slight edit . . .


************Honor at the Bat*************
by cthia

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Home Fleet ships that day;
The score stood four to two, with two more fleets to play;
And then when D'Orville died up first and Kuzak did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the ships that had remained.
A straggling few rose up to fight but only in despair,
They knew they'd only die, in haughty grandeur there.
Clinging to their stations, hope eternal in the breast;
All we need is Sally—Mander she's our best.
They thought, if only Honor could get but a whack at that,
They'd put up even credits, now, with Honor at the bat.
But Chin preceded Honor in shaping what's at stake,
When Smirnoff's LACs chimed in, holy hell had lit the cake.
Upon that stricken list of ships melancholy sat,
There seemed but little chance of Honor getting to the bat.
But McKeon let rip a single, raised hell in Genevieve's packs
And Alice Truman's Katanas tore the hell outta Haven's LACs.
When debris had shifted, CIC plotted what had occurred
Although plenty was left of Second, just enough was left of Third.
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled in the quadrant, it echoed 'Oh? Do tell.'
A prayer went thru the junction and an answer came at that,
For Honor—mighty Honor, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Honor's manner as she hypered into place;
There was purpose to Honor's bearing, and scorn on Honor's face.
And when she ignored the remnants, of Third Fleet in the realm,
No single spacer could ever doubt, 'twas Honor at the helm.
Thousands counted on her as she wiped her hands like dirt
Had settled between her fingers, but the brass gleamed on her shirt.
While the cocky Genevieve placed hands upon her hips
Defiance gleamed in Honor's eye, a sneer curled Honor's lips.
The enormous salvo shot from the massive pods she'd rolled;
Genevieve said, "No worry, they're too far out I'm told."
But then Chin contemplated 'of all the lunacy in the land,
If Third Fleet was just destroyed, then who was this at hand?'
Close by sturdy Apollo, the missiles unheeded sped –
"They're much too far to reach," said Chin, "Strike One," Honor said.
From the bridges, black with people, there went up a muffled roar;
Like the beating of the bulk-heads on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill her! Kill her Honor!" Shouted someone in the stand.
And it's likely they'd a-killed him had not Honor raised her hand.
With a smile of Tester's author'ty Honor's visage shown;
She stilled the rising tumult; She bade her ship go on.
When comprehension dawned on Chin she threw a mortal fit,
"Eighth Fleet! The Salamander! Hyper Out!" she said, "Oh shit!"
The Salamander didn't linger—turned to tactical and said
"Target that other fleet, fire sixty missiles instead.
By the time they reach them, Strike Two, Fifth will all be dead."
The sneer is gone from Honor's lips as she pounded Fifth to its fate
There's calm and cool on Manticore, no more fighting as of late.
And Tourville's confidence is shaken as Honor lets it go;
His hopes of winning another gone, from the force of Honor's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
Haven came to play with gall—mighty Honor struck them out.

Upon arrogantly hypering into the Darius System, there seemed to be a unified chorus echoing on the bridges of the GA ships.

...


"Great Ceasar's Ghosts!"

More Victor Jokes


Cachat fell in love with a sizeable Nubian woman. He really is Black Victor.

No wonder he was so good at Black Ops. He liked disappearing down a black hole.

The biggest argument Victor and Thandi ever had was when she found out what he was up to on Mesa. "No Victor! You are NOT going to get a carbon copy of me!"

But he always liked makeup sex. He was fond of saying 'The blacker the berry the sweeter the juice er truce.'

Hugh Arai asked Cachat. "Is it true what they say 'Once you go black you never go back?'"

"Trust me, when you are involved with a woman like Thandi, escape isn't an option."

Only Cachat can name-drop Oscar Saint-Just into a conversation.

ThinksMarkedly wrote:Only Cachat can name-drop Oscar Saint-Just into a conversation.

So true! But I think that is normal. When people are so bad, they naturally alter the human language.

For example, my very own 'copper-plated Ransom'. What would you imagine it would mean if one would say something is Saint-Justified. We even have it happening on Earth today with 'Trumpism'. And to 'bobbitt' someone is to remove his penis. (Lorena Bobbitt)

Honor meets a refrigerator

"Mom, what's that contraption?"

"It's a refrigerator Honor."

"What's it do?"

"It keeps food from spoiling until you're ready to cook it."

"We never had one of those on Sphinx."

"We never needed one dear. With you around we had to cook food as soon as it entered the house."

"Leftovers? What leftovers dear?"

"Mom, I was never that greedy."

"It was never about being greedy honey. It was your Meyerdahl B requirements. If you ever would have become greedy, we would have had to file for bankruptcy. Although we did secretly harbor fears that one day we would find you with Nimitz roasting over an open pit."

<Honor, the People always thought you are the only creature that eats more than a hexapuma>

cthia wrote:"It was never about being greedy honey. It was your Meyerdahl B requirements. If you ever would have become greedy, we would have had to file for bankruptcy. Although we did secretly harbor fears that one day we would find you with Nimitz roasting over an open pit."

That's not something anyone with a Harrington surname would ever even joke about.

Unless your commas are missing and Nimitz is just besides her and they're both roasting peak bear over an open pit.

ThinksMarkedly wrote:

cthia wrote:"It was never about being greedy honey. It was your Meyerdahl B requirements. If you ever would have become greedy, we would have had to file for bankruptcy. Although we did secretly harbor fears that one day we would find you with Nimitz roasting over an open pit."

That's not something anyone with a Harrington surname would ever even joke about.

Unless your commas are missing and Nimitz is just besides her and they're both roasting peak bear over an open pit.

Maybe. But remember, we're talking about Allison. She married into the family and she always strongly identified with—and exhibited the mores of—Beowulf , more often than not. And she never gave me the impression of someone who was so uptight, wrapped too densely, or ever managed to get her undies caught in a twist. If she ever wore any undies.

She would simply get a "Mom!" from Honor. A spanking from Alfred. And a <Bleek!> from Nimitz.

One day during inventory


"Why have we ordered so many fucking lightbulbs!"

"We had to sir. At one point we were going thru them like a hot knife thru butter!"

"Why?"

"Pavel Young! We were constantly replacing his "running" lights!"

****** *

Back at the Palace

"What's wrong Beth?"

"Look at this mess! At one point I couldn't get a response to a single piece of correspondence from the SL. Now it seems like every single man woman and child sends me letters!!! And they're all scented!"

"What's the scent, love? Fear?"

"LOL ... I suppose. Honor gave the entire system an earful. But these letters address me in every manner imaginable. 'Your Highness'. 'Your Queenness'. 'Your Bethness'. I even got a 'Your Royalness'."

"Well, be thankful there's no 'Your Mousety!' my love."

"Oh for crying out loud!"

"Which you've been doing ever since you got wind of that."