-OR-
"Lorst in Space"
Story by Donnie Pitchford.
Art by Chuck Anders
Only a few short moments before, Yeoman Oyl had assumed command, ordering a phiston torpedo to be fired upon what they thought to be the Hag's ship. Sadly, just before the horrific explosion, Navigator Swee'pea recognized the ship as Captain Popeye's shuttle.
Yeoman Oyl, snapping out of a state of funereal limbo, shrieked, "TURN IT OFF!! STOP THAT HORRIBLE HAG'S LAUGHTER!! I CAN'T STAND IT!!!" The witch's cackle seemed to grow more piercing with each passing minute.
Slowly, he opened his left eye. His head felt as if it had been crushed by the foot of a Martian war machine. He perceived light; but was unable to focus. He attempted to open his right eye, but could not... "Ohhh... yeah...." he mumbled, "I ain't got no right eye no more!"
It was Captain Popeye, alive but not well. He attempted to shake his head to clear the cobwebs, but the pain was too great. He took a deep breath. The scent of scorched space uniform caught in his throat, and he was gripped by an uncontrollable hacking fit.
A metallic clanking sound grew nearer, and a muffled voice seemed to summon others. After more of the sounds proved to be footsteps, Popeye could barely make out three forms standing above him, peering at his blackened face. "A... ahoy," he weakly croaked, "I... I yam hurtin'... Gots almost blowed up by a phiskon torpeter... has... has ya gots a little... spinachk?"
The odor of canned spinach grew nearer his straining nostrils, and a wet wad of the green vegetable splattered into his gasping mouth. The mere sensation of this precious lifesaver upon his tongue strengthened him enough to swallow it, and within moments his vision was clearing and the throbbing pain in his head began to ease. "I... I wants ta thanks ya, me friends..." he spoke, his voice regaining some of its gravelly strength. He noticed there were only two people standing over him now.
"'Pon my soul," the heavier stranger exclaimed, "this poor fellow possesses a most familiar voice!"
"Right, Wimpy!" his friend agreed.
"WIMPY!?" Captain Popeye shouted, leaping to his feet. "I yam back on me own ship!" His vision was rapidly returning, and was captivated by the sight of the third person returning - a tall, thin woman carrying bandages. "OLIVE!" Popeye shouted with glee, rushing over to scoop the slender form into his arms as he kissed her all too forcefully.
Something was wrong. His "Olive" was not pleased. Popeye remembered only her shrill scream before he was wrenched away from her by a white-suited, hamfisted sailor who punched him right back into oblivion.
Captain Popeye was haunted by what seemed like six hours of dark nightmares, as twirling stars rushed toward his face, only to stop and display a distorted visage of himself, smiling and blowing smoke musically through its pipe. Multiple faces that slightly resembled Bluto emerged from the inky darkness through a sort of window, all the while laughing demonically. As the spectral manifestations continued to whirl before him, other visions faded into view, resembling his crew members, but being somehow out of kilter. For a split second, he thought he saw the Star Hag, but her face was elongated and her flesh a sickly green. He became more aware of thin, discordant music droning in the background, being played by what appeared to be a Czechoslovakian orchestra being transported in a 20-mule team wagon.
Suddenly, like a vintage television kinescope tube being deactivated, his dreamscape imploded. Captain Popeye found himself lying on what appeared to be a sick bay bed, as a kind, female face appeared. "See, he does look a lot like you!" she said softly. This was the woman who so resembled his own Olive Oyl, with a smaller nose and a different hairstyle.
"Hrmph!" growled her companion, "He's arful ugly ta be comparin' him ta me!"
Captain Popeye was speechless. The owner of the gruff voice was a sailor, decked out in a white suit and cap, bearing anchor tattoos on his oversized forearms. The captain noticed this fellow was also missing a right eye, but possessed a much larger chin than he, and seemed quite top heavy on a pair of stubby legs. "Beggin' yer pardon, matey," Captain Popeye spoke in his less-gruff "mumble" voice, "but just who the heck are ya, and where am I?"
"I," bellowed the sailor, his chest expanded proudly, "yam what I yam, an' tha's all I yam! I'm POPEYE THE SAILOR MAN!!
"Captain Popeye felt certain he was still unconscious. This could not be happening, he reasoned. "Listing, mate," the captain barked, "there was anudder swab here when I waked up. Where is he at?"
The voice he had heard earlier echoed from the corridor outside, "J. Wellington Wimpy, chef extraordinaire, at your service, sir. I have crafted a culinary delight for our injured guest: Hamburger loaf smothered in onion and mushroom gravy, garnished with crisp spinach leaves... MY WORD! (burp) The beef portion has somehow vanished from the platter, leaving only the ghastly... er, green goodies!"
"Wait a minute," Captain Popeye bellowed, sitting erect in his bed and grabbing the spinach. After hastily ingesting the tasty leaves, he announced, "Me memory is comin' back!"
In an identical voice, the white-suited Popeye demanded, "You'd better be explainin' what yer doin' on board me rocket ship, and why you was smoochin' on me Olive Oyl!"
"Simmer down, matey," the Captain coaxed his unwilling host, "this is kinda a myskery ta me too. Y'see, I yam from another deminching. I was on Oith, an'..."
"Tee hee," the Olive figure giggled, "he says 'Earth' the same way you do, Popeye!"
"As I was sayin', Perfessor Wotasnozzle gimme this gadget on me belt just before I left in me shuttle ta rescue Olive- er, me friends- an' he sez that if I gets inta stormy waters, ta push on this butting, and I will be trangsported inta another deminching! I darn near pushed it too late, and almost got blowed ta bits! I must be in one of them "pair a lex unni-voises!" An' you swabs is another vershing o' me an' me crew in yer own unni-vois!"
"Parallel universes," spoke the Wimpy figure, "and other dimensions! 'Tis a probability. We also are acquainted with a Professor by the name of Wotasnozzle. I might suggest that our strangely familiar guest and his friends might be our dopplegangers!"
"I ain't no dapper gangster, I yam Star Ship Capting Popeye of the S.S. Olive, and I gots ta be gettin' back ta me ship!"
The Popeye figure spoke, "Any swab as ugly as you is, what can't speak proper American langwich, but kin take me hardest punch an' only sleep six hours desoives help! What can we do for ya, mate?"
"Garsh," Captain Popeye mumbled, "yer diffnicult ta unnerstan's! Er, I mean... can ya gives me a space suit an' a tank o' air?" "You betcha, but what for?" "If I gets back ta me own space, I ain't got no shuttle crafk ta be in! Spinach is a wunnerful veggable, but it won't lemme breathe in space!"
The captain chuckled as he watched his counterparts scurry to and fro, gathering the components of a space suit and some provisions. He noticed their stiff, limited movements resembled that of a "cheap aminated cartoon" he had seen recently on a batch of random 20th century analog television signals Alice had received as they bounced back from the surface of planet Hal 13.
"Thanks, friends," the captain said merrily, "and now it's time ta be shovin' off!" He adjusted the dials on the gaudy Wotasnozzle device attached to his belt, pressed the large, red central button, and saw the bizarre parallel universe begin to melt before his eyes like paint being washed from an animation cel.
Back aboard the S.S. Olive, the entire crew was experiencing madness. The Star Hag's broadcast laughter was beginning to shatter the supposedly unbreakable transparent aluminum viewing screens around the bridge, and the entire crew was running about in dizzying circles, vainly attempting to escape the manic laughter.
Finally, Eugene the Jeep, absent since the explosion that destroyed Captain Popeye's shuttle, reappeared atop the S.S. Olive's fragmented communications console. Taking careful aim with his magical tail, Eugene blasted the receiving equipment and obliterated the Star Hag's transmission. Eugene babbled wildly in the language of the Jeeps, which (thankfully) Alice could interpret. She buzzed happily in her native tongue, which Wimpy translated enthusiastically: "Heavens! Eugene has been traveling interdimensionally, and claims to have seen Popeye briefly! Our captain may be alive after all!" The crew, withered by their harrowing experiences, suddenly sprang to life.
"Me son!" chirped Pappy, hugging Olive without thinking.
"GLOP!" glopped Swee'pea.
"My sweetheart!" Olive cooed, "Let's get this ship operational, engineer Geezil, and find our captain!"....
EPISODE 1
EPISODE 2
EPISODE 3
EPISODE 4
EPISODE 5
EPISODE 6
EPISODE 7
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