Snow - frigid, driving, heavy snow. Wind - biting, gusting, bone chilling wind. The weather had definitely taken a turn for the worst.

Martha whimpered. The lack of oxygen, lack of visibility, and lack of warmth was depressing her to the point of total despondency.

"Stop whining!" Lawrence shouted, hitting the back of her neck with the handle of his pistol.

Martha was mad. The rage of a thousand lougie beetles swelled within her. She really detested Lawrence. "You be a fucker!" She yelled, turning to face the him. She did not know what the meaning of the word, but knew that it was a powerful insult. A feeling of confident defiance spread through her squat little frame.

Lawrence leapt off his grunk and flew into the air, spiralling through the blizzard. Before Martha's limited brain had the chance to formulate a successful defence policy, Lawrence’s out stretched leg had connected with the side of her body. The impact sent her tumbling off her animal and into some deep snow. Agonizing pain coursed through her stocky frame.

Martha's confident defiance instantly changed to irresolute meekness. Her rage had transmuted into terror. "Please forgive me!" She blubbered, regretting what she had previously said. She looked up. Lawrence was standing over her, silhouetted against the dark, brooding midday sky.

"I could forgive you," he said in a deep menacing tone, "or, I could scorch your skin, evaporate your generous layers of greasy flab, and fillet your meat. I haven't decided yet!" He pointed the fusion pistol at her abundant chest. "Maybe I'll start by burning your bosom!"

Martha was extremely upset. "You said before that you be havin' no interest in my breasts!"

"I meant that I had no interest in touching them. I do, however, have an interest in seeing those repulsive lumps of flesh cremated!" Lawrence prepared to fire.

The wise man dismounted from his grunk and approached Martha and Lawrence, his cape flapping wildly in the driving blizzard. "Leave her alone!" He said sternly.

Lawrence looked at him. "Don't give me orders, you sagacious sap sucker!"

The wise man smiled. "Interesting use of words. Your vocabulary certainly exceeds that of most of the galaxy's moronic ignorami."

The fusion pistol was now pointing at the wise man. "I am sick of both of you!" Lawrence screamed insanely. "Your insolence, and that fat bitch's ugliness and severe shortage of cognitive ability have drained me of all of the patience that I have."

The wise man continued to smile. "If you harm me, you'll never get off this world." He said. "And if you harm Martha, I'll refuse to show you how to. Your stuck with us I'm afraid."

Lawrence was seething with rage. "I know that the plateau where the Warphs live is beyond these mountains." He shrieked. "I can find my own way!"

"You probably could," the wise man said, "but only my extrasensory multi-dimensional coupling with the non-corporeal amphibians that inhabit the waterways of cognizant souls could interact with the Warphs in a coherent enough way to persuade them to permit a passenger to reside within their bowels during a sub-space planetary transfer."

Lawrence shrieked. "What are you talking about?"

"Even if you found the Warphs by yourself, the chance that someone of your limited para-psychological abilities could communicate with them in even a semi-intellectual and satisfying way would be so low as to be accurately described as non-existent."

"Bullshit!" Lawrence yelled. "Complete bullshit on an inconceivable scale! I will tolerate this intolerable situation no longer!"

The wise man was still smiling. "You have too!"

"Never!"

Lawrence fired.

The wise man took the full force of the fusion blast.

Martha screamed as her hero was propelled through the air. The wise man landed in a smouldering heap several metres away.

Lawrence laughed. "Ha ha harr!!!" He looked down at Martha who was still lying in the deep snow. "Your turn, lard hellion!"

Martha stared up at the evil space man. She was about to suffer a horrifying death and there was nothing that she could do about it, except pray. "I be innocent of everythin'!" She wailed. "Oh Pod-Gee, god of the bulbous and destitute, please be sparin' my plump body and spirit the sufferin' and embarrassment of hideous mutilation."

Lawrence watched Martha as she clasped her hands together and bounced her upper body in and out of the snow. "You pathetic bloat bundle!" He said, laughing. "Pleading to a non-existent god of corpulence will not help you in any way."

Martha ignored him and finished off her prayer. "Give me strength to endure all that be thrust upon my plentiful torso."

"Enough!" Lawrence screamed. "Die like a hog, you hefty harridan!"

The instant before Lawrence's finger finished its squeeze of the trigger, his fusion pistol exploded in a flash of blue flame. He yelped as the brief burst of heat burned away his eyebrows, eyelashes, and all of the hair on the top and sides of his head.

Martha looked up at him. An expression of baffled despair had appeared on his face. He was feeling the top of his bald head, frantically searching for signs of growth. To say that his hair was sparse was a major under-exaggeration!

"It be a miracle!" Martha said happily. "Oh great fat Pod-Gee, grease god of fodder, I be thankin' you for your assistance and great sense of timing."

Lawrence kicked her hard in the gut. "Shut up!"

Martha groaned, and then vomited profusely, melting the snow in front of her.

Lawrence gave up his exploration for hair and looked down at his weapon. All that remained was its ergonomically designed hand grip. It had been protected from destruction by his blast resistant gloves. "What happened?" He shouted, confused.

"It's over, fuck faced bald fucker of a fuckin' fuck fucker!"

Lawrence turned. The wise man stood before him holding a small blaster. "You're supposed to be dead!" Lawrence screamed, even more confused. "And where did you get that gun!"

"Shut the fuck up!" the wise man commanded.

Lawrence was deeply annoyed. Death glowed brightly within his visual orbs. "Don't give me orders! You'll die turbulently for this!"

The wise man smiled. "I don't think so." His expression then turned completely serious. "I arrest you in the name of the Superior Beings of the Great Hall of the fuckin' Palace of Amino."

Lawrence's expression suggested shock. "You're a bounty hunter?"

"Too fuckin' right!" The wise man answered. "But not just any fuckin' bounty hunter." The wise man pressed his shoulders back, raised his free arm, and clenched his fist. "I am Ross fuckin' Mental!" He shouted, punching the air rhythmically. "A top ranking bounty hunter of outrageous fuckin' rudeness and stamina!"

Lawrence grinned crookedly. "I knew that you were not what you claimed to be," he said deeply, "but I'd never guessed that you were a bounty fucker."

"That's because my cover was a great fuckin' success!" Ross Mental said loudly.

"How do you intend to arrest me? You have no ship and only a fat bitch for back up. My armoured cloak will protect me long enough to get to you and splinter your neck vertebrae. You are dead!"

"You're so fuckin' confident for a man in your position."

"I have good reason to be."

Lawrence drew a large, serrated knife from a hidden sheath on the side of his right leg. He looked at it with admiration. "This blade has been responsible for the grisly demise of over one thousand of my personal slaves."

"I'm sure that's true, but I bet that your slaves didn't have blasters and over a century of ultra-fuckin'-intense martial arts training!"

"That's irrelevant!" Lawrence screamed. "My fighting skills are extraordinary! My roundhouse to the knee is a feared and infamous move on many hundreds of worlds."

"No it isn't!"

"Yes it is!"

"Well, I've never heard of the fucker!"

Lawrence fumed. "You're ignorant beyond time, and no match for my powerful kicks!"

"And you're fuckin' bald!"

"Bastard mould mother!" Lawrence brandished the knife high above his exposed scalp. He was about to charge at the bounty hunter in an extremely insane manner.

Ross Mental held his hand up. "Wait!"

"Wait for what?"

"I can well believe that you're a reasonable opponent in hand to hand combat, but can you're so called 'infamous' roundhouse to the fuckin' knee have any effect on this fucker!"

A deep throaty roar reverberated along the mountain pass. Lawrence looked around, straining to see the origin of the sound through the raging blizzard. Visibility was less than thirty metres.

"What's going on!" Lawrence screamed, looking at the foul-mouthed bounty hunter.

Ross Mental remained silent, and smiled.

A large dark shape rose into view from the blizzard obscured valley below and hovered menacingly less than ten metres from Lawrence. The evil one stared at it in disbelief.

"Let me introduce you to the Morbid." Ross Mental said proudly. "A starship of astonishing defensive and offensive power."

"How the hell did you produce that?" Lawrence.

"Do you remember back at my fuckin' tower in the village, when I pulled that lever in my sanctuary of knowledge?"

Lawrence scowled. "Yes."

"Well, it didn't unlock my stable doors - that was a cunning lie. It actually activated my ship's auto-tracking systems. The fucker has been following me at a safe distance ever since!"

"Very shrewd and underhanded." Lawrence said quietly. "In a way, I admire you for that."

"Admiration from an evil bald fucker is not what I desire."

The evil one remembered his recent hair loss. He was as mad as hell. "Do not mention my extreme hair style again!"

"You have no fuckin' hair. Surely what you meant to say was your extreme 'bald' style!

Lawrence flipped his lid. "Bounty fucker!" He sprang into the air, somersaulted three times, and then dived at Ross Mental, making wide slashing motions with his knife as he did so. The bounty hunter fired several shots, each one missing the flying Lawrence by several millimetres. The Morbid too, unleashed a concentrated burst of energy fire with slightly more success than Ross Mental. Part of Lawrence's armoured cloak was blasted away. Lawrence himself was not affected.

Ross Mental took the full force of the flying Lawrence hard in the chest. He fell to the ground, dropping the blaster.

"Your ship won't shoot while you're in the line of fire!" Lawrence shouted with glee as he straddled the bounty hunter. "I'm going to hack your facial features off!" With unnatural strength, Lawrence brought the knife slashing down towards Ross Mental's face.

Utilizing his digitally enhanced reflexes, Ross Mental blocked the blow. Lawrence lost his balance and fell to one side. Ross Mental's muscle contraction enhancers activated, thrusting him into the air. He twisted, back-flipped, twisted again, and then punched hard at the evil one's head.

"Too slow!" Lawrence shouted, dodging the blow. He Laughed, then rolled rapidly away.

The Morbid had seen an opening and fired. The resulting explosion sent several tons of snow catapulting into the air.

Except for the wail of the continuing blizzard, and the rumbling of the Morbid's stabilising thrusters, all was suddenly quiet.

Ross Mental stood and looked around. Lawrence was nowhere to be seen. The Morbid had ceased fire. It obviously could not detect him any more. If he had been destroyed, where were the splattered body parts? Where was the smell of charred flesh?

Martha lumbered over to the bounty hunter. "I be saved!" She shouted happily. "He be dead!" She jumped joyfully up and down.

"It looks like it," Ross Mental said, "but it seemed too fuckin' easy. And too fuckin' quick!"

"He be blasted by that black hovery thing! He definitely be dead!"

"The amount of destructive fuckin' power aimed at that fucker during the battle over the fuckin' palace four years ago was awesome, yet he managed to survive that!"

Martha didn't know what the bounty hunter was talking about.

"What palace be that?"

"Never mind."

"Tell me!"

"Never fuckin' mind!" Ross Mental thought aloud for a moment. "Why was it so easy?"

"I don't know." Martha answered.

"I'm not asking you. Shut the fuck up!" Ross Mental continued to think aloud for a few seconds more. "Maybe he is dead." He said with renewed confidence. "Maybe I'm just so fuckin' cool I can't believe it!" He thrust both arms into the air. "I'm cool as fuck! And I didn't even need any help from other bounty hunters."

"He lied to me." Martha said.

The bounty hunter looked at her, annoyed that his self praising session had been interrupted. "What the fuck are you on about?"

"Lawrence told me that he had no knife, yet he be attemptin' to hack you with one!"

"He's evil, what do you fuckin' expect?"

"I don't know. I be too cold to be thinkin' properly."

"Even through those layers of blubber?"

"You be rude!" Martha shouted. "Why you be always rude?"

"I'm the current holder of the galactic obscenity shouting award, and have been for seventy seven fuckin' years. I must practice all the time if I'm to win it again next year."

Martha shivered and looked around. The snow storm was intensifying. "It be gettin' colder. We should be seekin' shelter!"

"Don't worry about that, we can use my ship now!"

Ross Mental took out a small device and operated a few controls. The Morbid approached slowly and descended towards the roadway.

"That thing can be makin' us warm?"

"Yes fuckin' indeed!"

The ship continued its approach.

"I was getting so fuckin' sick of playing that wise fucker! I had to pretend to be so fuckin' polite. I can't wait to indulge in some high-tech luxury relaxation aboard the Morbid!"

"What be high-tech?"

"Never fuckin' mind!"

Martha fell into a sulk. The man never explained anything to her.

A menacing voice cried out above the wail of the wind. "Fooled you!"

"Look!" Martha shouted, forgetting her sulk and pointing at the hovering star ship.

Ross Mental couldn't believe what he saw. Lawrence was standing on top of the Morbid.

"I've captured your ship, Dross Mental!" Lawrence shouted.

Thinking fast, the bounty hunter grabbed a small communications device from his utility belt. "Morbid?" he shouted into it. "Emergency ascent - fifty kilometres. Go!"

The ship responded instantly, thundering swiftly up into the dense clouds above. The blast of its engines cleared most of the snow in the immediate area.

"What be happenin'?" Martha asked, bewildered at the sudden turn of events.

"Well," Ross Mental said proudly. "I've sent my ship up to great height. Lawrence will be either crushed by the acceleration or he'll suffocate when the ship leaves the atmosphere. He's fucked whatever."

Martha didn't understand. She decided that it did not matter.

The bounty hunter's communicator bleeped. "A! I think the Morbid has reached its destination."

Ross Mental spoke to his ship. "Morbid, hold you current position for five minutes, then return to my location." He looked at Martha. "That should take care of the fucker!"

A voice blared out of the communicator. "It takes care of nothing, bounty bastard!"

"Lawrence!"

"Who else would it be, bottom eater. I've taken control of your ship. Prepare yourself for a painful demise. I'm coming to get you!"

The communicator fell silent.

"How the fuck did he get inside my fuckin' ship?" Ross Mental yelled.

"We be doomed!" Martha cried. She dropped to her knees and began to sob loudly. "Oh Pod-Gee, almighty guardian for beings of mighty tonnage, protect our fleshy forms from the evil Lawrence."

Ross Mental tried to ignore the pleadings of his chubby companion and looked up at the sky. "Now would be a fuckin' good time for some help to arrive!"