1 the testicles
2 by the balls so as to be rendered powerless
3 nonsense; rubbish
4 courage; forcefulness
https://www.dictionary.com/browse/balls
Another cheer went up “For the Mug!”, seven empty shot glasses crashed down on the table. Wait, has that puppet been drinking with us the whole time?
I staggered out of the shower unit, my eyes still stinging from the lemon water. Through blurred vision I noticed film strips hanging from the back the door that led into the shower room I found myself in. Using every ounce of my remaining faculties, I deduced I had made it back to my suite on the habitation ring.
Unable to keep my balance, I barrelled out into the accommodation: the bed was still made so it had not been slept in. Bouncing off the furniture and walls as I did so, I made my way to the bed. Above it on the wall was a small vid screen that was showing a collection of puppets that bobbled about making incoherent squeaks while a soft plushie train charged around in the background billowing cotton ball smoke.
Breaking through the cotton of my memory, images of the gaggle of commanders I had attached myself to started coming through. We were joined by an overly excited commander representing the Hutton Orbital collective advising he had two remaining balls, and proposed I suggest who of the commanders looked the most stressed and in need of something to squeeze while venting. It was then when I noticed him, the puppet. I mean he was no more than about two feet tall and made of what looked like felt. He was an accomplished commander, he had the elite insignia adorned on his chest, and that guy was knocking them back like the rest of us. That guy I came to understand was Little Willie.
The fog descended again as my stomach started to turn and man, did my toes hurt. Collapsing back on to the bed, I pointed the vid screen controller in the general direction of the screen and cycled the channels until the Galnet News updates came on. Reprisals in Summerland against Darkwater Inc had concluded in favour of the Empire and by the sounds of things the NMLA had been pushed back underground. Reports that the Colonia bridge construction was entering its final phase gave me a solution to my Journey Home Dilemma. I would revisit ATHAIP PK-B B47-14 AB 2 and right my biological fail, then make my way over to Colonia and take the bridge back to the bubble.
A notification then appeared on my personal comms, “Afternoon! Are you the drunk that we took home last night?” Oh sweet Emperor, what did I do?
A representative of the Pilots Federation came over to the table, explaining there was an issue with the credit taking system. Fitting each of the commanders in our group with a temporary payment bracelet he bid us good evening. The shots started to line up on the bar, how they back to the table is still a mystery, I do know some were consumed, at the bar.
Back at the table the shot glasses were raised as the cry went out “For the Mug!”. The empties came back down, the process repeated until it faded back into the fog of my memory. As the headache started to take hold, I began routing though my luggage for the discman, hopefully some baritone vocals will sooth my deconstructed mind.
The Javi Times 