The Original Schtroumpf

[Alora DeVeau]

From Avander Promontory, an MSNPC for our latest mission. 

 

((Papasta’s Rooms, Maudit Hall, Gelf City, Gelf))

 

Grand Papasta Schtroumpf sighed. It could be the end of the world and there would still be paperwork.

 

As evidence—his current predicament. The planet was a week off from complete devastation and  he was being made to sign approval documents on an expansion of a waterworks facility for Eastern Gelftopia. Well, he was the one who had been appointed to wear the Big Red Hat, this was his duty, regardless of the monotony.

 

And it wasn’t just plumbing permits. Oh, no! On his desk before him were a barrel’s worth of forms, documents, and decrees—all which needed his official seal. Of course, the Gelf’s had technology that could automatically sign such mundanities, but the originators of their laws had seen fit to specify that the Grand Papasta Gelfling had to sign each official edict with his own Gelfing hand!

 

So here he sat, scribbling his signature, all the while a growing nagging in the back of his head pressing him that he should be doing more.

 

In reality, there really wasn’t much more to do. Residents were building bunkers and relocating to remote areas of the planet in hopes of riding out the pulsar. But it was all in vain. There would be nowhere on the planet that would be safe and few, if any, shelters could prevent the radiation from seeing in and poisoning the residences. Of course, Grand Papasta Schtroumpf didn’t tell the populace any of that. No, that wouldn’t be helpful or wise. Sheer panic was already setting in, but if the people didn’t believe they had a chance at survival, well, then there’d be… unrest.

 

But Schtroumpf knew. And the very ministers of government who were promoting the “relocate or shelter” scheme knew. Their last real hope lay in the mysterious “Federation of Planets.” Creatures from another planet with advanced technology and large, fast ships. The Gelflings had encountered these strange creatures before Schtroumpf’s tenure began. In fact, as he recalled it, it was members of the green-skinned minority who had made a first encounter—out there, beyond the solar system.

 

Schtroumpf wasn’t prejudiced, of course, but he did think it strange that hatless green-skins became the face of the Gelf to outsiders when the majority (like himself) had beautiful sky blue skin and at least white caps.

 

All of this was immaterial now—almost all Gelfs (95% by the latest [secret] government calculations) would be wiped out within the week—blue-skinned, gray-skinned, and green-skinned; male, female, and kahale; hatless, white-hatted, and red-hatted. All but perhaps a few Gelfanauts on their too few interplanetary ships would go to the great Gelf beyond. And no one wanted that—well, no one besides Gargamel and his doomsday death cult. They were quite excited about the oncoming disaster and claimed vindication. Their numbers were swelling by the day.

 

In any other circumstances, that would be disconcerting. But now there were bigger issues to deal with. And still, Schtroumpf was stuck inside this room with this Gelfing paperwork, instead of out there, doing something meaningful.

 

Perhaps he would go down to the communications center. The satellite relays had been quite expensive and they had not, in Schtroumpf’s opinion, been worth it. Hardly any messages had come through. Schtroumpf had already been down checking for any news six times this morning and all every time the technicians’ reply was the same: nothing, silence.

 

Still, it beat signing (Schtroumpf checked the next form in his pile) the Proclamation of Gelf Ingenuity and Spirit.

 

((Overpriced and Underused Communication Centre, Maudit Hall, Gelf City, Gelf))

 

When Papasta Schtroumpf entered the room the attendant took notice and stood up, at attention.

 

Schtroumpf: Calm your Gelf down. This isn’t an inspection.

 

The attendant was a good lad, a white-hat, but a little stuck on protocol.

 

Schtroumpf: Anything new to report?

 

Attendant Gelf: Response

 

Schtroumpf: No, I suppose it was too optimistic that something would have happened in the last 15 minutes… Still, you’ll alert me at once if we get any news?

 

Attendant Gelf: Response

 

Schtroumpf: Just so. Well… carry on!

 

Schtroumpf clicked his red-covered heels and turned to exit the room. He stopped at the door when a loud klaxon sounded. oO Could it be? Oo Running back to the attendant’s console, he leaned over.

 

Attendant Gelf: Response

 

Schtroumpf: Well, don’t just sit there, play the Gelfing thing!

 

A crackly voice sounded over the speakers. oO I really did pay too much for this equipment! Oo

 

Kel: =/\= This is Federation Starship USS Intrepid to the planet Gelf. We are on a heading for your world to assist with the incoming pulsar. Please respond and give us your status. =/\=

 

Schtroumpf felt the hearts in his feet flutter—hope at last!

 

Schtroumpf: Can we answer them?

 

Attendant Gelf: Response

 

Schtroumpf: Well do that then!  =/\= Are we recording? (beat) Oh! ::sound of a voice clearing:: This is Grand Papasta Schtroumpf, ruler of the Gelflings, and you are most welcome Federation! Out status is… well…=/\=

 

Schtroumpf looked at the young white-hatted, blue-skinned Gelf at the comms station, but couldn’t place him or remember his name. oO Is he read into the situation? Oo Ultimately, the Papasta decided it didn’t matter, this was too crucial a contact to worry about messaging optics.

 

Schtroumpf: =/\= The situation, I’m afraid, is quite dire. We have days until the end and nothing we can do will change that. It’s a disaster of Gelfic proportions! Help us Federation Starship, you’re our only hope! =/\=

 

Schtroumpf hoped that would speed them on their way. While the communication had been straight-forward enough, the Papasta thought he ought to remain down in the expense communications suite—just in case the Federation called again. Hopefully, with their advanced technology, they might be able to magic away the effects of the pulsar and Schtroumpf could go back to… paperwork?

 

He let out another sigh. Perhaps the end of the world wasn’t such a bad alternative.

 

[OOC: Tag, if anyone wants to be a Gelfling Attendant and END SCENE (probably) for Schtroumpf]

 

Schtroumpf 

Grand Papasta 

Gelf

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