As Told by Ginger copyright Viacom

Chapter 13: The Ultimate Trip Begins

"We're not alone," Noelle said suddenly.

Carl felt a chill down his spine. "What do you mean?"

"Look behind you," she whispered.

Breaking his watching of the movie, he turned to look behind. He started when he found Polly Schuester standing in Hoodsey's living room by the couch. "Interesting that I should find you here of all places, Carl Foutley."

"I, myself, don't find all that remarkable," Carl said, almost in an off-hand way. Almost. "It is the house of my best friend after all."

"We have unfinished business, you and I."

Carl made of a show of thinking upon it. "We do? Hmm, I can't think of anything. Can you, Noelle?"

Noelle shook her head.

"Oh, I think you know what I mean, Carl Foutley," Polly said, a little confidently for Carl's tastes.

"Oh really? What would that be?"

"That play-date we had together."

Carl swallowed and eyed Noelle. He was starting to get the feeling that he had only seconds to live. Unless he thought very, fast on this. Unfortunately he didn't even get that chance.

"You did have fun with Polly Schuester, Carl Foutley," Noelle was standing with her hands on her hips. Always a bad sign.

"Noelle, I can explain." Carl didn't sound very convincing. Carl knew it. He knew that Noelle and Polly knew it. But he had to say something. And it might buy him some time.

"Don't bother, Carl. I understand perfectly."

"You do?" Carl's heart lifted up.

"You have been drawn into Polly's web like a foolish fly and now you are doomed just like the others."

"Others? What others?" Something in Noelle's tone was a bit off.

But before Noelle could answer, Hoodsey returned with Darren from their excursion to the roof. "Just great," Hoodsey said. "I leave you two alone for five minutes, and everything goes to heck and back. And then back to heck again. Just what the Sam Hill is going on here?"

"I can explain," Carl said.

Hoodsey crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm listening."

Carl began to explain. "Polly here-" But before he could get another word out, he felt himself being pulled upward. "Wow. This is so-o cool."

"Are you nuts, Carl? We're being abducted by aliens here," Darren said.

Carl looked around and saw that everyone else was being up too. "I know."

Darren sighed. "Of course."

-OOO-

"So what do you think, Miranda?" Courtney took a bite from her polish sausage in a bun, awaiting her answer.

"I can't believe you're eating that, Courtney," Miranda said.

Courtney swallowed so she could answer. "Why not? It's awfully good. And it's not like anyone can see us. Right?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, you worry too much, Miranda. You should just relax."

"Huh. You're one to talk, Miss Where's-my-make-up-case-when-I-need-it."

"You're just jealous, Miranda."

"Jealous? Jealous of what exactly?"

Ginger sighed. Girls everywhere, no matter how rich they were, were all the same. So why did everyone make such a big deal about how rich they were.

"Just when we are going up in the Flying Saucer, Mrs. Gripling," Mipsy asked.

"Patience, my dear," she replied. "London wasn't built in a day you know."

"All good things go to those who wait," Mrs. Foutley agreed.

"But why the wait, Mom?" Ginger asked.

"Because, Ging, Nomar isn't quite ready to steer the craft just yet."

"Oh, okay, Mom."

"How come she gets a sensible answer," Mipsy pouted, "and I didn't, Mrs. Foutley?"

"She asked a different question." Mrs. Foutley hemmed. "The thing is we don't know when Nomar will be ready."

"What kind is Nomar anyway?"

"A perfectly sensible name for one from Nomar's race I would imagine," Macie said.

Mipsy ignored her. "Why is this alien guy offering rides in his spaceship."

"Why wouldn't he give us rides, Mipsy?" Miranda snorted. "You're getting too paranoid in your old age."

The craft's intercom cracked to life. "Ladies, it's now to begin the trips of your lives."

"Who's that speaking on the intercom?" Dodie asked. "I thought that Nomar couldn't talk."

"He can now," Mrs. Gripling replied. "Before I went to my meeting with the charity committee, I helped him set up a way to speak through the ship's intercom."

"Ah, of course," Dodie said, even though she clearly had no idea what Mrs. Gripling was saying. Ginger didn't blame her. She didn't either.

"Don't just stand there, guys," Courtney suddenly wrapped her arms around both their shoulders. "It's time for the ride of our lives."

Dodie and Ginger looked at each other uncertainly as they let themselves be led into the Flying Saucer. Ginger felt like a lamb being sent to the slaughterhouse. And the fact that the entry-tube looked like a yawning throat did not help calm her fears. But fortunately, her premonitions weren't usually too accurate. As Ginger was being led down the corrider, she shivered. They wereusually not too true accurate. Usually.

"Tomorrow's the first day of the rest of your life, girls," Courtney said cheerfully.

"Tomorrow?" Dodie and Ginger yelped in surprise.

"Yes, tomorrow." Courtney made clucking sounds. "Must I repeat myself?"

They entered Nomar's inner sanctum. Where Ginger beheld a shocking sight. Nomar standing by his chair, apparently unaffected by his earlier injuries. Or his supposed injuries, as she was beginning to suspect.

"You look better, Nomar," Courtney commented.

I don't know she did it, Nomar said, but Mrs. Foutley was a miracle-worker. All my injuries are now completely healed.

"So that's what she meant when she said that you were fine," Ginger said.

Nomar nodded. I'm beginning to think that she's not entirely… human.

Dodie drew in a sharp breath. "What the hell was that?"

"We told you that Nomar has telepathic powers, Dodie," Ginger said.

"Yes, but I didn't really believe it."

"Neither did I," a nasely voice said. Ginger turned and saw Macie enter the central chamber with Mipsy and Mrs. Foutley and Mrs. Gripling.

"How does he do that?" Mipsy wondered.

Ginger shrugged. She hadn't the slightest clue how that happened. All she knew was that it worked. Very well from what she could tell.

I'm not a doctor, you know.

"I wouldn't know," Mipsy shrugged.

Okay, everybody find yourself a place to sit yourself during the take-off. Lift-off is in twenty minutes.

"Twenty minutes? What was the hurry for then?"

"You call that hurry," Mrs. Gripling asked. "You all came in quite calmly, didn't you?"

Mipsy looked to the side. "I guess."

"Where are we supposed to go?" Miranda asked.

Down there, Nomar indicated the lower level were there nine tanks full of some kind of gooey substance.

"We have down into that?" Mipsy asked, clearly aghast at at the suggestion.

"Of course," a half-naked Courtney was already removing her bra. "How else would we survive the take-off?"

"But why are taking off all your clothes, Courtney?" Ginger asked.

"I don't know about you, Ginger, but I don't want my clothes sticky with whatever goo Nomar has in his pods."

"But are the pods really necessary?" Miranda sneered.

"Yes, the ship is set to take-off at forty gees and there's nothing that Nomar could do about it."

"Forty gees?" Dodie asked Mrs. Foutley.

"Quite lethal against the unprotected human body for prolonged periods." She slipped out of her panties.

The remaining girls exchanged glances. And began to undress.