The planet of the Hamsters?

OOC: He's Baaaaaaaaaaacccccckkkk - From his recent engagement in the plains of insanity - the one, the only, Hamster Captain of the Blue Dwarf has returned. (And this time, he's remembered to bring *plenty* of spare change!) ;)
 
 
Who: That towering furball that just won't be forgotten - White Wolf!When: 11:47 AM, and 23 and a half seconds.  Where: In run down cafe, somewhere on the planet named 'Reuben'. The six foot, one inch hamster (White Wolf) stood over a cooking stove using a metal spatula to press down and fry a sandwich with the same name as the cursed planet he was currently stuck on, while a customer complained to the short restaurant owner behind him, "He's overcooking it I tell you! These rodents are no replacement for a good robot."
 
"Et it iss not, mi good sir. 'e iss cooking itt to perfection." Replied Snelling, (the short restaurant owner), in a bad french accent.
 
White Wolf growled slightly and shook his head in annoyance while turning away to grab a serving plate and paused momentarily to readjust the fake rodent-control-circuitry hat, which he'd made to escape detection, when it nearly slipped off his head.
 
"Stop scratching at your control circuitry your naughty hamster!" remonstrated the short restaurant owner while hastily taking the serving plate from White Wolf, "You'll cause a short circuit and I'll have to get another replacement cook!"
 
White Wolf retreated and thought he how lucky it was for him that the short restaurant owner wasn't smart enough to catch on to the fact that he was brighter than nearly every other hamster on this nutty planet. Even if the did have the lousy luck of one minute, being back in some 1980's psychiatric ward, and in some insane circuitry controlled rodent workforce manufacturing facility the next.
 
And his flip/flop luck hadn't changed that much since, even if he did count as 'lucky' the fact that when he told the scientist who was about to install those rodent control circuits into his brain 'where exactly he could stick it' and the scientist later got hauled off to the looney bin when the man foolishly told the supervisors that White Wolf could 'talk'.
 
But what White Wolf *did* consider rather lucky was the fact that one of those supervisors had replied to that scientists protestations that White Wolf could talk, "You mean to tell me that not one other Hamster, Gerbil or Rat has spoken up since our Governor decided to use electronically controlled genetically enlarged human sized rodents to replace our mechanic workers that went on strike ten years ago? I think you've become a little too attached to your subjects Dr., If this rodent *were* exhibiting such abnormalities, you know rodent control's recommended procedure - lobotomize & sterilize the subject." that certainly made up White Wolf mind about shutting up and faking that he was already circuited like the other rodents in the room, And ever since he's been low profile while looking for a way off this nutty planet. His only other piece of 'good' luck had been the fact that Snelling had requested a rodent for a replacement cook since his last one fell into the deep fryer while making 'freedom fries' wasn't exactly the brightest bulb on the tree even by a nearsighted mentally challenged gelfs measure.
 
White Wolf thought Snelling was a completed and utter gimbiod and he wouldn't have been surprised if Mp could fool this smeghead into believing that he was a gerbil by wearing a furry mascot suit, because this same man thought his last name 'Snelling' was french and thus cultivated a french accent. Albeit, a rather bad one at that. And worse, Snelling, got french fries mixed up with 'freedom fries' and insisted they were supposed to be called 'freedom fries' due to the liberation of the french during World War Two back on earth.
 
"And Zon't forget 'is batch of freedom friez" ordered Snelling interrupting White Wolf's train of thought again. Whereupon the six foot, one inch hamster grabbed out the wire basket from the greasy fryer bin and noisily dumped the over done fries onto another plate and served it to the complaining customer as one of the female hamster waitresses gestured in hand signals for another order of the same.
 
White Wolf sighed, and mentally lamented once again that it was too bad that these genetically enlarged hamsters on Reuben couldn't speak because he had come to miss the company of a female lately - especially since he accidentally was left behind by the Blue Dwarf.  These 'gelfs' just weren't the same -  Even though he did find many of them to be *surprisingly* intelligent, and a few were beginning to catch on to the hand signals he'd been trying to teach them. They certainly weren't as intellectually stimulating as talking to Allie. And that's what he probably missed the most - Being able to talk with someone, anyone. It seems he wouldn't ever do be able to that on this planet - at least, not without fear of being turned in to one of the 'Rogue Rodent' Patrols. Which was almost certainly death sentence for him.
 
And to make matters worse, he still hasn't completely figured out *WHY* he wound up on Reuben in the first place. He had a current theory which was loosely based upon the recent resurfacing of some /bizarre/ memory fragments in which he was a servant in a smegged out alternate reality universe where Doctors Cerebrum & Keto ruled as emperors over an Evil Empire. And him doing a temporal jump back in time in order to prevent some specific event from happening.
 
But in addition to some *other* memory fragments, he could only surmise that he had somehow succeeded, in an unusual way - and corrected that horrible miscarriage of the timeline* after his return from his death due to his vague recollections of an angel or *whatever that was* named '42' in eternity insisting that he was a 'catastrophe control operative' or something like that. And needed to be returned to life in order to correct something or other. Which, White Wolf theorized, was most likely going and correcting that smegged up timeline. It was one of the few explanations that made sense - since he was an atemporal, and had previously remembered events he experienced from the other timelines after they were changed.  But this timeline change seems to have had it's initial start after he died, and had been corrected after he returned to life, which *might* explain his disjointed memories and his inexplicably winding up on Reuben as a result of the correction.
 
Or at least, that's the best working theory he could cobble together to explain everything he remembered over the following months of his being pretty much marooned here on Reuben and why he couldn't remember everything.  Plus, he *definitely* didn't like the only other theory he had left - that he was hallucinating the Blue Dwarf & everything else, and was just merely a unique hamster on this oppressive planet. No, he had decided he *had* to stick with the theory that had the most hope. Even though, thus far, he'd had no luck at trying to find out if the Blue Dwarf even existed in this current timeline yet. He'd certainly hoped it did, because he had absolutely no idea exactly *how* he'd go about correcting *this particular* timeline if it wasn't the correct one either if he was right, and the Blue Dwarf had gotten temporally vaporspaced...
 
"Fazer, Fazer! You Zilly rodent." remonstrated Snelling loudly in his poor french accent, startling White Wolf out of his reverie once again, and nearly causing him to drop the corned beef he had clutched in his paw into the deep fryer.
 
The amplitudiness hamster quickly recovered and threw the meat onto the hot grill and scooped up a couple of slices of bread, buttered them, and threw them on the grill while a busboy/frycook-gerbil hopped up to him and pantomimed in quick gestures with a empty container of corn oil that there was no more frying oil for the 'freedom fries'.
 
White Wolf then motioned for the gerbil to bring it to Snellings attention, to which the gerbil nodded and hopped away.
 
"Zar Bleu - you incompentant herbil! You let uz runz out of cookingz z'oil duringz our lunch ruzh!" Exclaimed Snelling when the Gerbil presented him with the empty corn oil container, "And I can't leavez za diner to get anyz more..."
 
"Why don't you just write a note and send one of your rodents? Nobody at the store will ever notice difference between you and them!" asked the previously complaining sarcasticly to the laugh of his companions.
 
"Thatz not vera funny." Snapped back the short restaurant owner to the laughing customers, before suddenly pausing to absentmindedly play with his handlebar mustache before grabbing up a pencil & paper and muttering, "but zhat iz a vera good idea!" while scribbling out a note.
 
The short restaurant owner went over to White Wolf, and ordered, "You - zmart one, zake zhiz note and zhat other ztrong one there" he pointed to the Kangaroo mouse that was pushing a cart of clean dishes over to the diners salad buffet table, "and go downz to ze ztore and getz zamore cookingz z'oil."
 
"What luck! I'll get another chance to check out this city further." White Wolf thought as he motioned for the frycook-gerbil to take over for him and took the proffered note from Snelling, and starting heading for the door with happy gait and barely gestured for the Kangaroo mouse, who seemed awfully eager to follow him without such urging.
 
[Sometime later, Elsewhere in the city...]
 
White Wolf followed the Kangaroo mouse off the bus and onto the sidewalk, before he casually glanced around at the store fronts as if he really was stupidly looking around for the supermarket indicated on Snellings note that he was carrying. But, he was really paying attention to the slowly growing gathering of various rodents that had begun following him & the Kangaroo mouse around, and were incessantly clawspelling out the word 'Captain' to him.
 
When it seemed like a opportune moment when he thought no humans were looking in his direction, he paused and quickly clawspelled to the slowly snowballing rodent assembly on the sidewalk around him, "My Names White Wolf - Why do you keep calling me 'Captain'?"
 
A four foot tall brown & white Siberian dwarf hamster held up a single foreclaw and quickly beckoned White Wolf to follow him.  White Wolf followed the little Siberian after motioning several times for all but the Kangaroo mouse to stay right there. The short brown & white Siberian hamster slowly guided White Wolf & the Kangaroo mouse deep into the city's pawnshop district. After a bit, White Wolf began to worry that the little Siberian had forgotten where he was leading them, when White Wolf distinctly heard the familiar voice of WD-40 calling "Captain? Captain White Wolf?" in various way from up the street where  several hamsters were seemingly gathering by a window, and where the small Siberian was now excitedly pointing.
 
White Wolf quickly shouldered his way through the throng, and was stunned to see there in the pawnshops window, the badly damaged head of Wd-40 wiggling his nose and attempting to engage several of the hamsters that were similar looking to him in a conversation or something.
 
"WD!?! Thank the stars! How did you find me?" Blurted out White Wolf suddenly without thinking he might be betraying himself, but luckily, nobody had heard him as a bus had noisily pulled up just then and deposited several individuals on the nearby sidewalk.
 
WD paused and blinked while wiggling his nose yet another way, "Sir! You really are here! I thought I was having digital hallucination brought on by a short circuit in my mourning routines coupled with the ensuing ill treatment by that pilfering Marine who stole several of my spare parts including me, spare head #4, and was seeing only hamsters everywhere no matter how much I tried communicating with them. Not even in gelf nose-twitch-ese, which I thought would be natural elemental dialect for rodents."
 
"No," Hissed White Wolf, "Your not hallucinating - On this planet, Reuben, their using genetically enlarged rodents to replace their striking mechanoids."
 
"Their scabbing? On my fellow mechanoid union workers?" Replied the dumbfounded WD-40, "Why that's ... that's... I don't know what it is - but it's certainly lower than MP's unusually low moral standards of goat humping, and that's even lower than most gelf telemarketers and spammers are willing to go to make a corroded and bent heypenny."
 
"Would you shut up and listen to me for a moment?" Hissed white wolf again, "If anyone catches me talking..." 
 
Wd-40's brow furrowed as he puzzledly asked, "Why would you want to want them to discover you can talk? I'd hazard you'd be a real celebrity with these folks! Especially the local circus, I hear that some talented acts can become a real big spenders in these back water worlds."
 
"Because I know that if people on this planet find out I can talk, they'd kill me, dissect me, then probably stuff me and put me in a medical oddity museum. Especially since they think *I'm one of their manufactured lifeforms*!" Snapped back the 6'1" hamster quickly.
 
"Oh, I suppose that *would* put a real damper on your extravagate lifestyle then." remarked WD-40, who suddenly switched back to saying, "Captain? Captain White Wolf?" When the pawnshop proprietor came over for a moment to cast a questioning eye on the badly damaged spare head #4 of WD-40 that was chattering away again with it's 'normal' speaking routine, then shrugging his shoulders and calling out to the gathered rodents "Shoo, shoo! Go away you pesky animals, It's just a damaged talking head." before quickly moving away again and back into the shop.
 
"Good keeping doing that until I figure out how to get you out of there." whispered White Wolf, as he thought furiously turning over the various options over in his mind on how he could get possession of Wd-40's head from the pawnshop owner.
 
He could just run in and steal the head, but then the owner would undoubtedly call for the rogue rodent patrol, and that wouldn't do him any good later anyhow. He could try coming back and breaking in and stealing the head at night, but he would risk being caught by a night rodent patrol. He could try and wait until someone buys the head and then steal it from them, no that wouldn't work if no one bought him sometime today, because if he didn't return by evening Snelling would call him & the Kangaroo mouse into rodent patrol.
 
Then White Wolf saw a young mother & her little boy strolling by walking the childs five foot 'pet' gerbil on the opposite side of the sidewalk, when the gerbil dropped it's pet toy on the ground and the mother requested that the little boy pick up after his pet. That gave White Wolf an idea - He darted into the nearby ally and quickly pulled out a #2 pencil that he'd stowed away one of his cheek pouches, and took out Snellings handwritten note and quickly edited it to include a new line 'plus one pet toy for my pet hamster.' to Snellings order for corn oil. It was darn good thing that Snelling always preferred writing with a pencil.
Now all he had to do was figure out how he was going to convince this pawnshop owner that he had chosen Wd-40's head as his 'pet' toy. "That shouldn't be too hard...", thought White Wolf, as he quickly stepped back out onto the street and into the pawnshop.
 
<To Be Continued!> 
 
-----OOC notes: For your reference and making some sense of all this, please see posts 5894(where some of this long plot arc got started), 6856, 6996, 7045, 7228, 7252, and finally 7424!
 
* - Actually; Jay, Phil & the rest of the BD crew corrected the timeline. But White Wolf doesn't know that yet!