I give thanks to Rocky for, at the least, posting, even though it was on Carrotus and contained a few errors. (Speedy and BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ being on the as-of-yet-unnamed planet) Still, it leaves me with the task of replying, working off material from my own post, which incidentally had the same dilemma. BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ? Kovu? Anyone?


Jim Drab stepped from the spaceship onto the landing ramp, which had been extended before it should have been. Around the spaceship sat a variety of characters. BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ, the intergalactic troublemaker was the only one Jim recognized, though he was pretty sure he had seen some of the others before. And a couple of - by Continuity's grave - aliens of an uncharted species! This could be interesting.
Jim turned back into the spaceship, to where Bill Bored was sitting at a control console. "Bill, contact the Multiversal Discovery Orginization, and tell them I have discovered a new race, which I henceforth shall call the "Drabians", after me."
Bill started complying with the order, as Jim Drab continued his descent onto the planet surface. BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ came over to him, and took some sort of device off of his throat. By the looks of things, it was an outdated version of a Omni-Corp twoway translator, limited edition throat attachment design.
"Hi, Jim. Look, these aliens think we're all gods and Zealots, so if you could just act as if you're divine warriors or something like that, it would be helpful, all right?"
Jim nodded, trying to picture some of the assorted rabbits as gods, as BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ ran off to one of the two Drabians, calling "I'll explain later" as he went, refitting the translator. Evidently, this wasn't quite the ordinary hunt down.

BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ's brow furrowed. Jim Drab and the rest of Plotline Hotline were probably not going to support the image of Gods and all that. So he should warn him to comply. Considering that they now had the aid of Plotline Hotline, and all their machinery, they might not need the belief of the aliens, but it was probably safest to retain the guise. Besides, it was nice being thought of as a god. So BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ went over to Jim Drab, taking off the translator so the aliens wouldn't understand his side of the conversation, and gave a brief explanation.
Blast, the King was gesturing. With a hurried "I'll explain later", BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ went over to the majesty, putting the translator back on.
"Who are these creatures?" asked the King, gesturing. Darn. He had hoped the aliens could just assume they were divine warriors of some sort or another, and not asking questions. Thinking fast, BæÅü scanned the assembly for inspiration. Ah!
"Sire, this is the army of Ares, the God of War. Like traveller's checks, he don't leave home without them."
The King nodded, wisely, and watched in moderated wonder as most of the rest of Plotline Hotline trooped out, with their Photon Anti-Mistake Beamers at the ready, in case of plot errors. BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ overheard Jim whispering "now do something divine", but it was soon forgotten as Plotline Hotline's emerged employees started dancing, and making bizarre light shows. BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ sighed, and covered his face in his hands.
Later, after the Plotline Hotline people had taken their bows, and all that, Jim Drab, Gurgi, BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ and the other rabbits met in an apartment in the "Acid-drop Inn", which had generously been allocated to the gods for the purpose of meeting in it.
"Ok, here's the situation." said BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ, relaxing in a chair built for relaxing in. "The aliens of this planet-"
"Drabians." interjected Jim Drab. "I named them myself, and reported the discovery to the Multiversal Discovery Orginization via an employee."
BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ sighed. "The Drabians think that Speedy (each name was accompanied with a gesture towards that person), myself, that rabbit with a shamrock in his fur, and that rabbit over there without any distinguishing marks are Gods. I'm the God of Wisdom, Speedy's the God of Stupidity, the shamrock guy is Dagda, an irish god, and that guy is Ares, the Greek god of war. And you're all Ares' army."
Before Jim could interrupt, BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ continued; "Gurgi, Tyf and Propulsion are all Zealots. Now, the reason you all were summoned is because Blaganga has set up shop in the East, and will blow up the planet in four "Clockrounds", which I believe means days. Unless they use a 12 hour clock, in which case he'll blow it up in a day and a half. I forgot to ask which."
Tyf stared at BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ. "You never mentioned that!"
Thankfully, Jim Drab broke in. "So basically, you want us to go and defeat Blagagnga, so we can have fufilled our goal, and you can reap the rewards upon this planet."
"Well, not exactly." said BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ. Although a nice idea, they could only keep up this God bit for so long, so it wouldn't work too well. "We want to get off this planet once everything is done with. More specifically, back to Carrotus."
"Whatever." said Jim. Obviously, the matter of safe transport home was less important to him then defeating Blagagnga. "So if there's a possibility the world will blow in a day and a half, we ought to leave right away. Where exactly is Blagagnga?"

Seven hours later, Plotline Hotline, the 'gods', 'zealots', and Patrian Patrach - who had wanted to come along - landed the Plotline Hotline spaceship behind a rockpile near Blagagna's fortress. Patrian had been something of a hinderance during the trip, wanting to look at everything, even such rudimentary objects as the in-flight cocktail peanut.
They were surprised to see seven other starships already nearby the 'factory'. Gurgi yelped, and hid behind a large boulder, muttering about the Nostrils.
Speedy, annoyed because BæÅüMÃ(-)Ñ had been getting more POVs lately then him, looked at Gurgi. "Those ships belong to the Nostrils?"
"Yes, yes!" whined Gurgi, huddling. "Bad Nostrils sent our ship down with whirlings and twirlings, until it crashed! Oh, just looking at them, poor Gurgi is reminded of noble lords like Han Soda, all dead!"
Speedy, realizing Gurgi could easily say too much in his worried state, turned to Patrian, speaking loudly. "These craft belong to evil enemies of his race. What they are doing here, we know not, but all shall be revealed once the evil one is conquered."
Patrian, not looking as if he really bought it, turned away, and stood surveying the factory which had been claimed to make fuzzy bunny slippers.


Come on, I'm running out of ideas. I need fresh material to work off of.