The Golden-ish Girls --Episode: “Thank You for Being My Insurance Provider?”

(A Fan-Fiction Salute)

[Intro: “Thank You For Being A Friend”]

[Interior scene: Kitchen]

[Two men in suits walk into the kitchen from the garage. They carry a little old lady in a yellow robe between them. She has a boombox in one hand, a purse in the other. They set her down.]

Man #1:

So Mrs. Petrillo, you understand the mission.

Sophia:

Yeah, I sing my song. Then I get a big-screen TV.

Man #2:

If they like it…

[Man #1 pokes him]

I mean, after you sing it. This is the final stop -your home turf.

Sophia:

Of course, they’ll like. This reminds of a story...picture it, Rome, 1952. I was visiting my cousin Gina…

Man #1:

[interrupting]

Are they out there? You want that big beautiful big-screen television, am I right?

Sophia:

[She walks to door leading into livingroom. She sneaks a peek and turns back]

They’re on the couch.

Man #1:

[To Sophia] Now get out there and sing your sweet little Italian grandmother butt off!

Sophia:

[Whispers to Man #1]You can treat me to an egg cream at Wolfie’s first. [She pinches his butt. The man looks uncomfortable.]

Man #2:

[He walks to the door, pokes his head out]

Are you ladies ready for some great entertainment?

Blanche:

We’re as ready as a vixen at a Chippendales convention! [Turns to Dorothy] Can you believe my sister Virginia stole that idea for her new book “Vixen Goes to Hollywood! [She picks up a book from the endtable and reads the back of it] ‘Vixen meets a group of retired male strippers and becomes embroiled in a torrid affair with them all’. Can you believe her thievery? Now I’m glad I stole her beau at that winter cotillion that one year back in school.

Dorothy:

Not now, Blanche! [Turns her head to the kitchen and points]

Who was that man? [Everyone ignores her]

Rose:

Oh boy! Afternoon entertainment! Dorothy, is this what they call a ‘matinee’?

Dorothy:

[sarcastically] Yes, Rose. In a minute, Dreyfuss is going to come along pulling a wagon asking us to go to the lobby and buy ice cream and Raisinets.

Rose:

I like Goobers. You know the chocolate-covered peanuts in a……

Dorothy:

[Interrupting Rose] Rose, you are a Goober.

[Sophia walks into living room. Rose, Blanche, and Dorothy just watch her as she plugs in the boombox. Sophia smiles and presses the play button.]

Sophia:
[Singing to the tune of "Thanks for the Memory"] "Thanks for the Medicare / For Blue Cross and Blue Shield / For a hip that finally healed / Aetna and United Healthcare, oh such great appeal!/ We thank you so much!" Okay, what did you think? Now don't hold back, I can take the criticism.

Blanche:
Depressing.

Dorothy:
Horrible.

Rose:
Icky.

Sophia:
[Unplugging her boombox and storming out] Go to hell, all of ya!

[Sophia bursts back into the kitchen]

Okay, Rodgers and Hammerstein, let’s talk about the TV.

Man #1:

Did they like it?

Sophia: Did they like it? Does the Pope love my marinara sauce? Let me tell you a story...picture it, Rome, 1970. I was visiting my cousin Gina. She gets a call from the Vatican saying the cook had food poisoning. Immediately, I jump into action. I run to the Vatican with my saucepan. I’m in such a hurry that I trip. A small child helps me to my feet. That child was...Mario Batali.

Man #2:

What?

Sophia:

Ok, they hated it. I demand my TV though, I can’t be blamed for shoddy writing.

Man #1:

Ok, Mrs. Petrillo, you’ll get your TV. If anything the health insurance industry is fair and generous.

Sophia:

[Reaching into her purse, she pulls out a card]

You can deliver it tomorrow. Before supper….anytime before four pm.

[Man #1 takes the card and he and Man #2 walk to the door to the garage]

Man #2:

[whispers] You’re going to give her the TV?

Man #1:

[whispering back] Only a small 12-inch set. It’ll be a big screen when she sits really close to it –we’re cancelling her vision coverage next week. [He pauses, looks around, and gives a big grin] Pre-existing condition!

Man #2:

You’re my hero! [He pats Man #1 on the back. They exit.]

[Dorothy walks into the kitchen followed by Rose and Blanche]

Dorothy:

Ma, who were those men?

Sophia:

[Nervously] The Hopkins twins...collecting money for their paper route...yeah, that’s it, Hopkins kids, paper route.

Dorothy:

Ma, Sam and Mike are eleven years old.

Sophia:

[sarcastically] Hey, when you were eleven, the Harlem Globetrotters tried to put you on their team. Unfortunately, it was the same year you got braces. Your father worked too hard to get that metal into your mouth….plus we couldn’t find a mouthguard large enough.

Dorothy:

I’m serious, Ma. What is going on?

Sophia:

They hired me to go around singing that little song in all the malls. They called it community outreach. They’re insurance lobbyists...and they’re giving me a big-screen TV.

Dorothy:

Ma, I forbid it. I will not allow you to do this. Lowering yourself to their level. The Tv probably isn’t even real. They used you, Ma.

Sophia:

You won’t allow me? Oh, what will you allow me to do? [sarcastically] What will you allow me to do? Go on a date without a chaperone? Buy a wine cooler with my new ID? I’m going to my room! [She pauses and turns back] If the cute one calls, tell him I might be able to sneak out after 11:00 after you go to bed! [She storms out, slamming the kitchen door]

[Dorothy and Blanche sit down at the table. Rose pulls a cheesecake out of the fridge and brings it to the table]

Rose:

Should I carry a slice to Sophia?

Dorothy:

[sarcastically] No, Rose. We’ll let her calm herself down and read her Tiger Beat magazine first.

[Rose looks puzzled]

Blanche:

Will she be alright, Dorothy?

Dorothy:

She’ll be fine. She’s just scared and angry. We both got letters from our healthcare providers saying our premiums will be going up. It’s frightening to be old and knowing your health insurance might not be affordable in a time you really need it. But we’ll make it!

Blanche:

Of course we will. We have each other! [She pats the other girls on the shoulder] And we’re going to get out there and change the system.

Rose:

You know this reminds me of the time in St.Olaf when Johan Higgehlooper tried to get universal udder insurance for his dairy cows. You see Johan had really dry skin on his hands and everytime…

Dorothy and Blanche:

[Together] Oh, shut up, Rose!

[Credits roll]

Restitution

      Malcolm had barely been awake for five minutes when he heard the soft footsteps in the hallway headed toward him. The door opened and his granddaughter rushed to the bed, bouncing on the covers.

     “Happy tire mint, grandaddy!”

     He patted her on the head and reached for his glasses. “It’s called ‘retirement’, Maya, and thank you!”

     “Maya, did you wake up your grandfather?” Malcolm’s wife, Loretta, stood in the doorway, her arms crossed.

     “No, Nana, he was already woked up.”

     She crossed over to the bed and gave Malcolm a kiss. She then picked up Maya.

     “We’ll let you get yourself together and then you can join us for breakfast”, she said to him and then looked at Maya. “How about waffles this morning?”

     “Yes, waffles, please, “ Maya replied.

     “How about waffles?” Loretta asked Malcolm.

     “Well, why not! Woo hoo! It’s my big day!” He held up his hands and gave them a wave.

     “Woo hoo!” shouted Maya, waving her little hands too.

     Loretta grabbed Maya and walked to the door. She turned back to Malcolm and gave him a small smile, then left.

     Malcolm sank back into the pillow. This was his last day at work. He let out a sigh. He had accomplished so much in the past fifty years and he never guessed he’d make it to this day. But he was going to simply treat it like any other day. He had one last Restitution to preside over, then no more. It was actually a good thing that he could pass the responsibility on to James, his deputy. Malcolm knew that he had secured his place in history when the government had adopted his idea of Restitution for criminals. It had been the project of a lifetime. He had to now let it go. He felt it was time.

     Maya was dabbing a piece of waffle into her syrup when Malcolm walked into the kitchen. Loretta walked over to him and gave him a cup of coffee.

     “You should just stay home with me and Maya,” she told him. “What can they do? Fire you?”

     “Let me have this last day and one last Restitution. We’ve already discussed this.”

     “Oh, I know. But you haven’t had to go to any Restitutions in years. You’re only a figurehead at the company anyway, they would be fine with you…”

     “You think I’ll decide not to retire...”

     “I just want you all to myself now,” Loretta leaned in and gave him a kiss. “Now let’s get some homemade waffles into you to start your big day.”

     “I hope we’ve got some juicy sausage or bacon, too.”

     Loretta frowned as she held up a blue and white package. “Only this,” she replied.

     “Not that fake stuff...not today of all days!”

     “I tried to get some real bacon, my dear, but Orlon’s has stopped carrying it. I talked to the manager but he said that it was too much trouble with all the new laws and everything.”

     Malcolm sighed and thought about the days before animals were thought to be feeling sentient creatures. He wished for the time when pigs were ham, bacon, chops, and sausage, and not emotional beings with rights. Since most industrial nations had given animals rights and banned slaughtering animals for food, the United States had seen a huge rise in meat prices and a move toward similar laws concerning animal welfare. The food corporations had begun to cut their ties with the animal farming operations, converting to meat substitutes. The fresh water crisis only sped up the process – it took too much water to raise food animals. Some called it progress, Malcolm called it madness.

     Malcolm worked for the National Prison Agency. Thirty years ago, he had lobbied for a change in polices concerning capital punishment. He himself had put forth the idea of Restitution as a graduate student in college, but it wasn’t taken seriously until the drug crisis occurred.

     Companies had started to end production of the drugs used in lethal injection executions. Some states had stockpiled the drugs for future use, but eventually those supplies began to drop. States began looking into other methods – firing squads, hanging, even the guillotine had been considered -but all were considered to be painful, drawn-out processes. Others had begun looking to ban capital punishment altogether, bowing to anti-capital punishment activists.

     One of Malcolm’s friends in college had remembered his graduate work and talked to a senator about it. Malcolm was called to Washington to explain his ideas. A few years later, the National Prison Reform Act was passed and Malcolm was chosen to implement Prisoner Restitution as a cornerstone of the reforms. “Capital punishment” was replaced by “Restitution” and states readily accepted this humane practice.

Malcolm walked into his office. He noticed a large book on his desk. He walked over and opened the cover.

     “The Victim’s Liaison Office went back through their files and put that together for you,” said his assistant Janine, poking her head through the doorway. She walked in and set down some papers. “I need you to sign these.” She looked at the inscription inside the book. “Letters from over the years from crime victim’s families praising the Restitutions they had gone through. That was real sweet of them.”

     “I’ll have to pop down and thank them later.”

     “Don’t forget you’re having lunch with the commissioner before the Restitution.” Janine tapped the papers lightly, reminding Malcolm to sign them. Malcolm adjusted his glasses, then took out his pen from his briefcase. “Your retirement party is a 5:30,” she reminded him. She then whispered, “ on’t be late. I hear there will be appearances by some bigwig politicians – maybe a vice-president – but you didn’t hear it from me.”

     “Oh, Janine.”

     “Some people think you’re a big deal, Boss.”

     “Not after today.”

     Malcolm did very little work. Most of the morning was spent accepting best wishes and congratulations from colleagues and taking phone calls saying pretty much the same. Lunchtime was spent with the prison commissioner and a few select VIPs in the prison industry. Restitution had proven to be a quite profitable option. Two hours later, Malcolm rushed away to his last Restitution.

     Malcolm got to the Restitution Center as they were bringing in Jimmy McKinzey for his Restitution. He entered the chamber as a nurse judged Jimmy’s dosage of Calmicolizine. The prisoner looked at him and meekly smiled – the effects of the drug given to him at his last meal. Malcolm silently burped – the effect of too much fake steak at his last meal. Malcolm was glad that most prisoners were now given sedatives and other drugs, it made it easier to deal with them. He was thankful the drug companies had introduced programs to medicate prisoners, it had made prisons calmer places, almost like schools.

     People slowly began to appear in the chamber – Jimmy’s attorney, the victim’s family, the commissioner, and others. Malcolm sat down at the large table across from Jimmy. He looked at his watch, it was time to start.

     An officer called the chamber to order. Malcolm shuffled through his papers and then looked up at Jimmy.

     “James Arthur McKinzey, inmate number 45629D, you have been called forth to this chamber for your Restitution. Do you understand that today you have to pay for your crimes against Nathalie Howe, who you brutally murdered last year, and provide restitution to her surviving family? Do you comply?”

     Jimmy stared at him for a second. “I do,” he said, with a slight slur.

     “As the verdict has been made and the prisoner understands that restitution has to be paid to the satisfaction of the victim’s family, to this state, and to this nation, according to the law. Your assets have already been transferred to the victim’s family in the amount of $3, 235.00; as a balance is still outstanding, we will proceed with the Restitution.” Malcolm turned and motioned to the two officers standing behind him. Jimmy made no show of emotion.

     The officers walked over to Jimmy and helped him to his feet.

     “James Arthur McKinzey, proceed to make your Restitution.”

     The officers escorted Jimmy to a curtained side of the chamber. They led him through the curtain into a small antechamber, followed by Malcolm. Meanwhile, inside the large chamber a large screen appeared from behind a wooden panel and the lights were lowered. A camera in the antechamber flashed, signaling that it had begun transmitting the event to the large screen.

     The officers placed Jimmy onto a slightly-inclined large metal slab, jutting out from the wall. Malcolm pulled over a stool and sat down beside Jimmy.

     “Time for your Restitution, James.”

     Jimmy slowly turned to look at Malcolm. He looked into Malcolm’s eyes and smiled.

     “Do you understand?” Malcolm asked, and slightly shaking his own head.

     Jimmy gave a shallow shake of his head, then grinned.

     “He’s ready.” Malcolm gave a sign to the officers standing near the slab.

     One of the officers moved a console close to Malcolm. The other officer reached up and pulled down a swing arm to which was attached a headset. Three large cylinders protruded out from the headset. Malcolm placed the headset onto Jimmy’s forehead. He adjusted it over Jimmy’s eyes and secured some straps which encircled Jimmy’s head. The other officer secured a strap across Jimmy’s chest and his legs.

     “Okay, Jimmy, I want you to count down from ten with me.” Malcolm pressed a few buttons on the console. “Okay, now we will start. Count with me. Ten...nine...eight...” The man slurred the number eight. Malcolm pressed a red button. There was a soft thud and a wisp of smoke appeared above the cylinders. There was a shudder across the man’s entire body as three bolts were driven into his brain, as was once done to cattle and pigs in slaughterhouses. There was no seven.

     “The law places the value of $488,000.00 on human life. Today, James Arthur McKinzey paid that ultimate price toward his debt. There can be no outstanding balance and Restitution has been paid,” said Malcolm, after turning to the camera which had shown the event to the people in the chamber. Malcolm paused and removed his glasses. “I would also like to say this is the last Restitution I shall preside over. I am glad that I have helped give closure to the family of victims over the years and that I have offered to the world a quick and painless method to implement justice. May we never go back to old days of needless and drawn-out suffering again. Thank you.” The camera light then signaled the end of the transmission.

     There was loud bell, and the nurse appeared. She placed a mask over Jimmy’s nose and mouth. There was a slight buzz and she placed a device on Jimmy’s chest. She pulled a display panel from the side of the slab. The slab was raised parallel to the floor. A hatch opened in the wall and there was a rush of cold air. The slab moved into the hatch, then closed quickly after Jimmy’s body disappeared inside.

     “Thank you, Nurse Greene. My office will finish the paper work and send in on.” The nurse nodded and left.

     Malcolm would now leave the organ harvesting and all to the medical division. The victim’s family would receive their commissions, and Jimmy’s body could realize a big return in compensation for them. There was still so much paperwork, but he was not too worried about it. It’s a job for someone else now, he thought. He had a retirement party to attend.

The Chocolate Discount of St. Walfrid's Day (February 15th)

St. Walfrid and His Discounted Toblerone




February 15: The Feast Day of Saint Walfrid

"Walfrid and his wife Thesia were happily married. After their children were grown, they felt God asking them to built two monasteries, one for Thesia and other women and one for Walfrid and other men, including their son Gimfrid. After some time of living in vows to God, Gimfrid ran away in the middle of the night, stealing horses and important papers. Walfrid sent a search party and prayed that Gimfrid would come back. He also prayed that God would give Gimfrid a sign so that he would never forget his vows to God. When Gimfrid returned, one of his fingers had been injured so badly, he could never use it again. But he became a wise and wonderful leader, following in Walfrid’s footsteps." 

The following is considered by some as apocryphal, others believe it was invented to simply help get rid of extra unsold chocolate before Lent 

(Easter merchandise has to be sold, you know).

We'll let you decide.

After Gimfrid's return, Walfrid made up a great pot of sweet porridge to serve to the poor.  He blessed it, and then asked Gimfrid to check if it was sweet enough to serve. Gimfrid stuck his crippled finger in, and suddenly the porridge turned into luscious, creamy melted chocolate -amazing since it was several hundred years before the introduction of chocolate to the Old World. 

Yeah, and Gimfrid's finger was partially healed too -but back to the story: 

The poor were given the chocolate in celebration. Since then, the poor have been privileged to buy discounted chocolate after St. Valentine's Day (who?) to celebrate St. Walfrid's miracle of the chocolate.

Happy Saint Walfrid's Day!!!

May Your Chocolate be Deeply Discounted 

(70% off or more)

A typical St.Walfrid's Day Card (Also known as a "Walfrid")

The Legend of the Tooth Fairy and Other Tales by Thomas F. Clardy

I have a brand-new little book out, called  The Legend of the Tooth Fairy and Other Tales (County Road 37 Books, 2016).  It is a book of seven tales which I wrote over the years.  I have always loved reading fairy tales, fables, myths, and legendary stories and this book is my very own book of tales. For me, fairy tales, fables, and such all have a lesson or important truth to teach their readers -mine are no exception. The stories are accompanied by very old antique illustrations - like the ones I remember from old story books of the past (and they're black and white illustrations that you could colour, if you wished.) Stories include: The Legend of the Tooth Fairy, The Tale of Greenfeathers: A Story for Christmas, The Fable of the Three Possums and the Old Alligator, The Fable of the Busy Beaver, and more.

To purchase your very own copy, click on this link now.

Sypsamulga Snake-Charming Majorette

 My Aunt Emma was never a frilly, high-maintenance woman or extreme housewife. She worked hard and spent a lot of time outside. Unlike most women of her time, she’d rather be outside helping around the house or on the farm than shopping or going to the hairdresser. Her sisters would say that it started when she was little and played like a tomboy, dressed in a dirty pair of overalls and carrying an old stick to poke at frogs.

             She had no problem roaming around the countryside collecting bugs and frogs with the boys. She’d run and jump into the red clay gulleys, and build tree houses and forts. My grandmother was busy in the kitchen cooking and canning with the older girls and she could never get Emma into the house; she figured Emma would end up driving tractors and helping with the farm animals, so she just didn’t force the issue. Grandma figured that once a boy gave Emma a certain look, she’d be in the kitchen frying chicken and begging to learn to make an apple pie for him.

             As predicted, Emma, as she entered her teenage years, began to drive the tractor during planting season and haymaking season. She herself was in charge of the chickens and the two pigs destined to become pork chops and bacon. (She was never squeamish about wringing the neck of a chicken for Sunday dinner.) When it was time to pick cotton, she was the first down the row with her sack, picking bolls and humming a tune. One day someone asked her why she always hummed, she told them that it scared off the snakes –no one argued with her and everybody started to hum themselves.

             Emma, over the years, had become somewhat of a snake charmer. She had no problem catching snakes with her bare hands. She’d put a hoe or stick onto its head and grab it. It sent chills down my grandmother’s spine to see Emma holding a big fat chicken snake, its body wrapped around Emma’s arm. Emma would just laugh her big boisterous laugh, then walk out to the woods and free it. Granddaddy hated when she’d let a snake go rather than killing it, but Emma explained that chicken snakes killed rats and mice – from then on, he made her put the snakes in the corn crib.

Emma had no problem with rattlesnakes either. One day, grandma caught her putting lard into a cook-pot, which was set up over a fire. On a nearby table, there set bowls of cornmeal and buttermilk beside a mounded plate of what looked like chicken. Emma told her mother she was making supper, and went about breading the pieces of meat. My grandmother grabbed the edge of the table when the blood rushed from her brain, causing her to almost faint on the hard red clay and gravel. She couldn't believe Emma was making fried chicken.

“Who told you how to fry? I am just amazed at my little girl.”

“Molly done told me what to do,” said Emma, giving the melting lard a stir. She walked to the table and began to salt and pepper the meat.

“Lord, I never expected to see you out here frying some chicken,” said my grandmother, pulling out a handkerchief to dab her forehead.

“Oh, Mama, it ain’t chicken. I caught a big ol’ rattler down in the slough and done skinned it,” replied Emma. She held up one of the sections of rattlesnake meat. “It does look like a chicken thigh, don’t it?”

Emma picked her mother up out of the dirt. “If’n I tan the hide, would you help me make a hatband from it?” She pointed at a mess of rattlesnake skin handing from a low branch. My grandmother figured that as long as Emma was cooking and wanting to sew something, it was a battle won.

Emma went for years without any desire to do anything requiring her to spend her day inside or doing something considered "girly", so it was a shock and a surprise when Emma tried out for majorette in high school…and actually got it. She, for years, had been twirling sticks and such on her way between the barn and the field and back home. She had gotten pretty good. When she saw the majorettes practicing one day near the gymnasium, she figured she could do it just as well as they could. So she showed up at tryouts with her twirling stick and gave them a show. Some of the other girls giggled at this lanky girl in overalls twirling a piece of wood, but the judges were impressed when Emma threw the stick high into the air and then caught it without missing a beat. The giggles went silent, and Emma was on the squad.

The hardest thing for Emma was adjusting to the majorette outfit. She thought it looked like some spangled, bejeweled swimsuit and was flat-out too girly for her tastes. She liked the boots, except for the big tassels. It was a different time than nowadays, so the uniforms the majorettes wore were a bit heavier and theatrical and included little marching band hats with little visors and feathers. Emma wasn’t too happy with all the fuss, she just wanted her overalls and wooden stick, which itself was replaced with an official metal baton with white rubber on the ends. She persevered and learned the routine, eventually getting somewhat used to the uniform. She carried on as well as she could.

The band spent the summer practicing and marching in a few small parades. They would practice on the football field, but when the football players needed it they moved to a nearby practice field. The principal usually got old man Glenwood to use white paint to mark off the field marks after the practice field was mowed. Well, this year Mr. Glenwood had broken his leg in an accident and the chore went to his temporary replacement, Jimmy Townsend. Jimmy was not reliable nor was he smart, the field went unmowed and Mr. McGuire, the band teacher, had to mark the field as well as he could. The band eventually stomped down the grass and got into the rhythm of the routine. At one point, the majorettes had to go to the sidelines and do a mini-routine involving throwing their batons at each other and catching them. They then stuck a pose as the band played its big finale. Well, this time the majorettes walked to the edge of the practice field, which was bordered by a creek, and Miriam yelled. In front of her was curled a huge water moccasin, she had almost marched right onto it. She froze, one leg in the air mid-march. Emma ran over to her and told Miriam to remain still. Emma took off her hat (the majorettes wore them during practice to keep their smiling faces and heads up), and then walked around behind the poisonous snake. She quickly pushed the rubber ends of the metal baton onto the head of the snake, then reached down and grabbed it. The snake opened its mouth and bared its fangs, its body struggling to wrap around Emma’s arms; but Emma held it tight. Jimmy Townsend came down the hill from the school’s shop, wondering what in the world the commotion was. Emma grabbed her hat, and motioned for one of Loretta Snellgrove’s little cymbals. She set the snake expertly into the hat, covered it quickly with the cymbal, and walked up to Jimmy Townsend.

“Jimmy, you didn’t mow the grass,” she said sternly.

“I was about to get to that,” he answered her.

“Well, Jimmy, we had a little episode out here on the field.” She held up the hat covered with the cymbal, as Mr. McGuire walked up. Emma looked at the band teacher and Mr. McGuire nodded his head. “Take this, Jimmy,” she said, “And hold that cymbal tight against the hat.

Jimmy took the hat from her. “What in the devil is this?” he asked.

“That is a water moccasin that Miriam almost stepped on because you can’t keep this field mowed and taken care of,” Emma told him.

The color drained from Jimmy’s face and he started to shake a bit.

“Be careful not to open it in an enclosed space.”

Jimmy walked to the edge of the creek and threw the hat, cymbal, and snake into it. He then watched the snake swim on down the creek, followed by a half-submerged majorette hat. The cymbal was never seen again. Jimmy stormed off, cussing under his breath. But from then on, as long as he was there as the groundskeeper, the grass on the practice field was mowed almost to the dirt.

Emma never found her hat as it floated downstream, but it didn’t matter. She became head majorette and marched at the head of the band with the drum major, wearing a sparkling pair of white overalls and twirling her favorite wooden stick.

The Sulis Star System (Life of Other Worlds, Part 4)

Life of other worlds: drawings and sketches from one space explorer's travel journal is a series focusing on various other star systems in the Milky Way Galaxy.

The Sulis Star System (Note: Planets and orbits not to scale)

The Sulis System is a yellow star system with five planets. Named after Celtic gods, life has only been found on the planet of Cernunnos. Research indicates that the asteroid field, known as The Bards and Vates, may at one time been a planet with developing microscopic life. The first three planets in the system include: 1) Nantosuelta, a Mercury-class planet 2)Ambisagrus, a planet similar to Mars, and 3) Cernunnos, with its barren moon, Damara. The first three planets are very close to the same size, only varying in temperature and crust structure. There is one ringed planet Barinthus that may have gotten its rings from the destruction of a planet where The Bards and Vates are now located. Barinthus has four moons (it is unknown if they formed recently from debris or escaped the destruction felt by other moons in the system).The gas supergiant Britannia is a failed ringed planet.   Britannia is located within a supergaint asteroid field called The Druids. The asteroids saturate the orbit of Britannia, and they have never coalesced into rings around the planet -the magnetic field of the planet seems to push many of the asteroids out of the way and they then settle back into place after it passes. Most disturbed asteroids are either flung into deep space or end up settling into the orbit of The Bards and Vates. It is believed that the The Druids were at one time actually one or more large moons that orbited Britannia, probably pulverized as the result of the recent planetary event (around 50 million years ago) that also demolished the planet that occupied the orbit of The Bards and Vates.

Cernunnos

Cernunnos

Little nocturnal creature that many other things seemed to like to eat. We named it the Dinner Mouse

The Vampire Bird (not really a bird) captures its prey and injects venom that completely liquefies the organs, muscles and bones of its prey, which it then sucks out.

They were fast. And they were NOT cuddly.

Britannia

Britannia and The Druids