Today I threw a 2 on the board and got this prompt:

[i]"Write 5 questions you would like to ask a funny looking researcher who controls a fleet of star ship."[/i]
[hr]

    Ned clicked his pen nervously in anticipation of beginning the interview. The big bosses at "Twinkle," the cheesy culture 'zine on the worlds in the stars, did not treat these sciencey pieces too seriously and so he needed to make this good or else his article would be lost to the oblivion of a billion unread words in the great pile of word garbage.  

    The Colonel flowed and flopped into the room. He was from one of the big gas giant planets so his body was made of some sort of sludgy mist crammed into a tentacle envelope of a suit. Ned couldn't see a face, just a glass fishbowl of swirling pink and purple gas and a little square box at the collar that bleeped when the Colonel talked. "Heblo Blister 'Ed" came the Colonel's burbled voice through the voice box, "bLet's get bis ober wib qwibly, I hab mud to do."

    Ned sat frozen and wide eyed, he barely understood what the colonel had said and didn't know how to respond. "Well," he shook his head and regained his focus, "yes.. um, well yes... um" Ned shuffled the pages in front of him, his questions for the Colonel. "Um.. thank you for meeting me today Colonel, we at [i]Twinkle[/i] really appreciate your time, as does our readers you can be sure." 

"Bly Blejure 'Ed" he burbled. 

[i]'.......What?'[/i] Ned thought, 

He moved on, "So... um.. what is the nature of your research?"

"I'm Blag you aggled," the Colonel burped, "Bly bleet id bebling 'ent do dah fah egles ob bla balaxgi. Blee hab dibcobered a new borm ob blenerby, our bledorts 'ay 'at it may blee an enerbly blat bormed dah bery nadure ob all creadion!. Ib id a trubly amabling digobery!!"
The Colonel was waving his tentacle arms as if he wer excited but Ned had no idea what he had just said. Unfazed, Ned soldiered on.

"Do you believe that your research justifies the incredible expenses it requires? I mean, a whole fleet of ships sir, surely you only need one or two..."

"Blone Queblin Me Hoomon!!" The burbling figure asserted, "BlI am blum de grayblist blientibles in deh Uniberd!! Ob Corb I woul' no' akk for do mud mondee ib i diben neeb it!"

Ned was not discouraged, "and what do you have to say about the impact of moving such a large fleet through so many inhabited regions of space? The gravitational disturbance alone is enough to cause massive weather events in no less that three early industrial societies."

The Colonel settled down, "Bwe hab greybly condibered the abbect ob our bleet mobing acobb so bar a rebion, and we bully unberdand de' ebbects ib will habeb. Bwe addure your reabers that our digobbery jujdibies any ingonbeniende ib will caub. Bwe will gib to dah galagee dah
bleclet of libe!" The Colonel raises a tentacular fist as if in inspiration.

Ned didn't know what to write, he wished he had his recorder for the interview but he forgot it at the office before he left to come here. There was nothing left to do, he was going to have to make up the entire thing. By the time the magazine made it to the fleet they would be light eons away and it wouldn't matter. 

"Well Colonel thank you for meeting with me, but I think I got everything I need."

"Dats ib?" the Colonel said, looking down hearted in his suit, "Blut I hab do mub to teb you aboub dah secrebs ob dah blars?"
Not knowing what he said, Ned replied, "Well yes and thank you again, I... um..." Ned moved as if to shake the Colonel's hand / tentacle, but it slithered over his fingers in a strangely intimate way, "err... um.. I will be going now." Ned grabbed his things and left the meeting room as fast as his legs could take him. 

"Pidy," the Colonel mused, watching the man flee, "he deemed realbly nide."