Flash Gordon and the Minions of Ming the Merciless (republished)

(To celebrate Gather's generosity in tripling points, I'm republishing four of my best (I think) and silliest pieces.)

Both rayguns blazing I duck behind the pillar where Dale Arden cowers in abject fear.

"Buck up, Dale," I say in my most confident and manly voice. That isn't easy. Thirty of Ming's soldiers are getting ready to charge us from the other side of the courtyard, and both rayguns are almost out of power.

I kneel beside my beautiful Earthling companion. "I'm afraid this may be goodbye, Dale," I say tenderly. "We're goners for sure."

"But, Flash, that can't be! We're in all the funny papers. That wouldn't be funny!"

"Have you checked out Brenda Starr, lately?" I ask. "Her mystery man died last week of leukemia. Prince Valiant fell off his horse yesterday. That's one tall horse to fall off. He won't be back in print for months. Sluggo slugged Nancy. Skeezix had a car fall off a lift on his head. That didn't kill him, but then, he's not real. Mark Trail IS real, and he got mauled by a bear. People are getting a taste for realism and that hurts us."

"Well, screw them, then, Flash. Why should I cower here if they're just going to watch us die? I came here on a space ship, the first Earthgirl ever to do that. It shot fireworks out of the tail like it was going to blow up any second. If I didn't blubber over that, why should I do it now? And why should I wear these silly short skirts and halters?"

"It's in the contract, Dale. Didn't Dr Zarkov explain that to you?"

"Isn't there something in there about us not dying?"

"I don't think so."

I lean out around the pillar and let off a couple of shots, winging a soldier in a long cape - Ming's Elite Guard. We're in real trouble now.

Dale grabs the raygun out of my left hand. "Screw the contract, Flash, I'm not planning on dying just to entertain every grubby twelve year old boy whose hoping to get a flash of my undies, not to mention his dirty-minded old man."

I want to tell her how much I hate these jodhpurs I have to wear. Jodhpurs on a space ship? But just then Captain Boron leads a dozen of his guards around to our right, and I have to use up most of my raygun's power forcing them back.

Drat!

"Save yourself, Dale!" I say, self-sacrificingly.

"How, Flash? Just tell me how."

"Maybe if you surrender, they'll go easy on you because you're a girl."

"That's not realism, Flash."

"You're right Dale. What if I draw their fire and you make a run for the ship?"

"You'd do that for me?"

"It's in the contract," I say, self-deprecatingly. Then I remember. Screw the contract! "Uh, Dale, I don't suppose you'd draw their fire away from me?"

"Would that be realistic?"

"Sure. You're a woman. Self-sacrifice is built in."

"Up yours," she says and then there's no more time, because here they come.