LotS/The Story/Puny Human Birthdays/SexualHarassmentSuitsYou: Difference between revisions

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(Created page with ""Oh, Flashheart!"<br> <br> "Hmm... Flashheart!"<br> <br> "Flashy!"<br> <br> "Go, Flash! Go!"<br> <br> Captain 'Ace' Flashheart woke up to those familiar sounds -- soft female ...")
 
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<font size="3">'''Sexual Harassment Suits You'''</font><br>
[[File:LotS_Quest_z15_a1_q3.png|Sexual Harassment Suits You]]
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"Oh, Flashheart!"<br>
"Oh, Flashheart!"<br>
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Latest revision as of 17:54, 7 November 2012

Sexual Harassment Suits You
Sexual Harassment Suits You
"Oh, Flashheart!"

"Hmm... Flashheart!"

"Flashy!"

"Go, Flash! Go!"

Captain 'Ace' Flashheart woke up to those familiar sounds -- soft female voices murmuring in their sleep, either reliving the previous night's passion or dreaming about further amorous adventures to come.

He lifted the covers and took a quick count. Five beautiful women shared his galaxy-size mattress... Yes, that sounded about right. Or had there been a sixth? Ah, no... That had been the night before.

Arithmetic satisfied, he glanced at the clock. Time appeared to have carried on while he was sleeping, which was bloody annoying. It meant he was late for his performance evaluation. He'd have to speak to his superior officer about that.

So he rolled over and nudged her.

"Hmm?" she mumbled. Weary eyes half-opened amid a splash of chestnut hair.

"About that evaluation..." he said.

"Oh... Forget that. If you handle your ships like you handle your women..."

"What? Fly them to heaven and make them see stars? Of course I do!"

"...then you pass."

She closed her eyes and fell back asleep. Flashheart prepared to do the same. Then something buzzed. He sighed. The doorbell...

He pressed a button on the headboard. A holographic screen appeared above him. It showed his front door, and the person standing in front of it. He grinned.

"Is that Caligula?" a voice to his left asked. "From Cythera?"

"It's hard to tell. Last time I saw old Liggy, she was upside-down and covered in honey. But I think this saucy mare's just dressed up as her. Probably a birthday strip-o-gram."

"Today's your birthday?"

"Happy birthday, Flashy!" said one of the others.

"Are you going to have a party?" asked another.

"Girls! You know every day's a party when you're with Flashheart!"

The woman on the screen reached out. The doorbell buzzed again.

Flashheart stood up, slipping out of the sheets.

"I'd better go see to the girl!"

He trotted to the edge of the mammoth bed, dropped to the floor, and went down the corridor.

Flashheart pulled the front door open, revealing the woman in the flesh. She was wearing an outfit that looked like a cross between a bikini and ancient Roman battle gear. He stared at her breasts, with which the armored bodice was fighting something of a losing battle. No... Definitely not Caligula. Still good breasts though. Maybe after she gave him his present, he'd invite her in.

He glanced up, and found that for her part the woman was staring down. Her cheeks were red, and her mouth formed a pretty little circle of shock.

"The real Caligula would be ravishing me by now," he said. "And if that sounds like a bloody good idea, don't let me stop you!"

She met his gaze, held it for a second, snatched another glance at his naked crotch, then forced her eyes upwards once more. This time she managed to keep them there.

"You're Captain Flashheart?"

"Of course I am! One of a kind, unless there's some lucky bugger out there in the galaxy who happens to look like me. And if there is, more power to him! My reputation's big enough to keep us both in totty for the rest of our natural lives!"

"Good. I have something for you..."

"And I've got something for you as well, you saucy mare! But you go first..."

She reached behind her back. Flashheart grinned. Her hand returned holding a datapad. He laughed.

"An autograph? If you like. But I can give you something a bit bloody better than that to remember me by!"

"Not exactly..." She shoved it into his hands. "Official court documents. Consider yourself served."

"Just a minute..."

"You're being charged with sexual harassment."

"Again?"

"Nine counts."

"Nine more fines? That'll be bloody expensive."

"Actually, this morning parliament passed Flashheart's Law. Now the penalty for sexual harassment by people called Flashheart is imprisonment."

"Oh... Then I'd better call my lawyer!"

"You mean Julia Nebler?"

"That's right. You know Julia?"

"She's one of the plaintiffs. Apparently you sexually harassed her as well."

"Did I? It's so bloody hard to keep track... Well, I'll need to hire someone else. When's the trial?"

"Today."

"What? That's a bit bloody fast, isn't it?"

"Flashheart's Law. You have thirty minutes to get to court. Oh, and if you don't show up in time, a guilty plea will automatically be entered on your behalf."



"As Captain Flashheart hasn't seen fit to appear before this court, Your Worship, I move that his guilty plea be entered in accordance with Flashheart's Law, and that officers immediately be dispatched to arrest him and if possible subject him to severe physical battery."

"By my watch the captain has a few minutes left, Ms. Nebler."

"Very well, Your Worship."

Julia Nebler sat back down.

"Don't worry," she whispered to her clients and fellow plaintiffs. "He won't get here on time. I-"

At that moment, the doors at the end of the courtroom flew open -- revealing a man in a red pilot's outfit.

"Sorry I'm late!" Flashheart said. "A bit of ship trouble."

"What sort of trouble?" the judge asked. She glanced from the captain to Ms. Nebler, who was engaged in frantic whispering with the other eight women at the plaintiffs' table.

"The landing systems weren't working."

"Then how did you land?"

"I didn't. I just jumped out and let it fly off without me."

"I see... Take your seat, Mr. Flashheart."

Nine pairs of female eyes glared at him as he walked down the aisle, between the empty rows of seats. Julia had insisted on the public gallery being closed, lest the man's legions of idiotic admirers attend the trial and cause a ruckus. The jury box was similarly vacant, as per the terms of Flashheart's Law -- which left the matter entirely in the judge's hands.

He sat at the defense table.

The judge glanced down at her terminal screen.

"Your full name is Captain Harry Flashheart?"

"That's right. But everyone calls me Ace. It's easier to scream when I'm blowing your ship up or blowing your mind!"

The judge banged her gavel down.

"Mr. Flashheart! Your innuendos aren't welcome in my courtroom!"

"Hold on, you saucy mare! I wasn't going to in-you-endo! I-"

Her gavel bludgeoned the sound block.

"Mr. Flashheart! How dare you! One more outrageous comment directed at this bench and I'll have you held in contempt of court!"

A hundred retorts sprang into the ace pilot's mind. But as each and every one of them would have resulted in his incarceration, he simply said:

"Yes, Your Worship."

"Ms. Nebler," the judge said, "your witnesses may read their statements."

"Thank you, Your Worship. We'll begin with-"

"Wait a bloody minute!" Flashheart exclaimed. "Reading statements? Last time I was charged with sexual harassment, the witness had to go on the stand so my lawyer could ask her questions!"

"Things have changed at lot since then," the judge said.

"It was only last week!"

"Flashheart's Law clearly states that when a plaintiff is bringing an accusation against a defendant named Flashheart, she need only deliver a statement before the court. Questioning isn't permitted."

"Well that's about as fair as a Rylattu's ass!"

"Mr. Flashheart!" She smashed her gavel down.

"Sorry, Your Worship..."

The pilot looked on as the first plaintiff stood up. She was a frumpy girl. Pretty face, if a bit chubby. Pretty but unfamiliar. He looked at her breasts. Ah, yes... One of his copilots -- before she'd demanded a transfer, complaining about his reckless flying.

"When Captain Flashheart taught me how to dock a fighter ship, he made inappropriate remarks in which he likened part of his anatomy to a vessel and part of mine to the space station with which it would dock."

The girl turned to Flashheart, stared daggers, then sat back down. The next one -- a mousy blonde in an engineer's uniform -- stood up.

"Captain Flashheart told me that he'd like to 'give my engine a bloody good seeing to'."

She sat down. A petite redhead rose.

"He said I should stop flying transports, and grab hold of something with a 'proper joystick'."

This process continued, until eight of the women had told similar tales. Then Julia Nebler got to her feet.

"Captain Flashheart, at the time my client, suggested that I 'take the bar'. His subsequent comments revealed this to be an inappropriate metaphor."

The judge glared at the defendant.

"Mr. Flashheart... You now have the opportunity to respond to these accusations."

He stood, and looked over at the plaintiffs -- all nine of which were staring like gorgons.

"Your Worship," he said, "I'd like to ask them one thing..."

"Questioning of the witnesses is not-"

"...are you lot ticked off because I said all that tosh, or because none of you got to grab hold of me and have the night of your lives?"

"Mr. Flashheart!" The gavel thudded down in such a flurry that it missed the sound block and made a series of deep indentations on the oak around it.

But the plaintiffs were already on their feet, shouting their replies:

"Wasn't I pretty enough for you?"

"You can't say things like that and just walk off!"

"I saved you from a hundred sexual harassment suits, and all I got out of it were a few innuendos!"

"Well, why didn't you all just bloody well say so?" Flashheart asked. "Ladies, if I take you back to my place right now, will you drop all this sexual harassment tosh?"

"Yes!" they chorused.

"Then come on!"

The nine of them surged from the defense table. Hugs and kisses rained down on the ace pilot.

"Mr. Flashheart!" the judge shrieked. "How dare you, sir? How dare you-"

"Oh, you're invited too, judgey!"

"Why didn't you say so?"

She tossed her gavel over her shoulder and scurried down from the bench.

Flashheart sauntered down the aisle, surrounded by his newfound admirers, and went off to celebrate his birthday in his own imitable style.