It had been 3 hours since Thunderbird 3 crash landed on this strange planet. It was surrounded by an endless sea of sand, and some strange pterodactyl-like bird calls screeched across the land like someone who is crying out in pain. At least we survived, the four of us - Brains, Alan, Tin Tin and me.
In the heat of the day, I burst open the door to the escape hatch of Thunderbird 3, gasping for air, and then collapsing onto the ground. I coughed, and struggled to get myself up onto my feet again, as I looked around at the silent desert. “What is this place?” I croaked, sounding like a frog who had swallowed too much swamp water. Then, after a few minutes’ hesitation, I called out: “GUYS!” My voice echoed, and then, the echo was heard in reverse, like someone had hidden a reverbing machine under the planet’s surface.
There was no response. I tried to call out loudly again. “GUYS!” This time, a sign of life flickered from inside Thunderbird 3. Out came Alan, followed by Tin Tin and Brains. They were all in a daze following the crash, but luckily, none of them were injured, thank god. “Is everyone okay?” I asked. “I think I may have injured my leg a bit,” said Brains before collapsing onto his weak little bottom on the ground. “Still, where are we?” “I don’t know, but it must be a planet apart from the others on the star map.” said Tin Tin, wiping her sweaty brow.
“I don’t know what this planet is called either. Maybe we should make up names for this planet. Er…Planet Arabia?” I asked. Alan burst into a fit of laughter. “I knew you’d say that! Let me think…how about….Planet Sand.” This time, Tin Tin and I both laughed. “Good one! How about…” But then, our hilarious moment was cut off by a wail of pain from nearby. Brains was clutching his broken leg, rocking back and forth like some kind of mentally unstable person who had gone insane from no yogurt in the fridge.
“Brains!” we all cried together, and we ran to comfort him as he began crying pathetically, holding his painful leg. “You okay, Brains?” asked Alan. “Here, let me touch it.” “NO!” cried Brains. “Ouch…don’t touch it. It’s too painful.” “If only Venus was here,” I told Alan and Tin Tin, then she’d use her special Leg Bone Ointment.” “Always a relief when she uses that,” said Tin Tin. “Now, has anyone found the first aid kit yet?” Alan had re-entered Thunderbird 3 and was rummaging around for the first aid kit. After a few minutes, he got it right out of a door in the wall.
He ran back out to Brains, who was breathing very fast from the amount of pain he was experiencing. He opened the first aid kit and took out some bandages. Then he said: “Brains, take off your trousers. It’ll give me a better chance of tying these round your leg at a steady pace.” “But-” began Brains, but Alan gave him the most sly look a Tracy Brother could ever give.
“Er…okay,” he said, and he pulled off his trousers. Unbeknownst to him, they vanished with a gentle twinkling noise. Alan carefully and gently wrapped the bandages round Brains’ leg, and then tied it up so that Brains could not feel the pressure of his painful leg anymore. He then stood up and looked around. “If only we had some crutches…”
As if on cue, a huge alien pterodactyl like bird flew overhead and dropped some wooden stick like crutches that it was carrying in its huge rectangular beak. Tin Tin screamed at the sight of it. “WHAT ON EARTH IS THAT?!” she screeched at the top of her lungs. “Whatever that thing is, I don’t want to know about its species.” I said, as we watched Brains finally stand up and walk using these stick like crutches. “For some reason,” I continued, “I feel like everything we ask for seems to come true on this planet, yet there’s still signs of alien life that seem to obey our demands.”
“So…there’s aliens on there that obey every command we give them?” asked Alan. “I hate to be ridiculous, but that actually sounds like a great idea. Now, if only we knew what lies ahead of us.” But it was too late. I already ran ahead of the others, calling “Follow me, this planet may have more realms than we have ever explored before!” Tin Tin immediately ran after me, while Brains hopped onto Alan’s back as he gave him a piggyback ride across the vast sands of the desert.
Hours passed for what felt like minutes, and soon it was getting really, very hot. Our clothes were dripping with galleons of sweat, and our underarms were completely drenched. We couldn’t walk any further, and Alan was on the verge of collapsing to the ground because Brains was too heavy for him to hold. “Guys….can we…stop?” I puffed, my face red from the intense heat. “Of course, we needed that rest. My clothes are as wet and sticky as a swamp,” breathed Alan out of exhaustion. “Mine too,” agreed Brains. “I’m in too,” said Tin Tin, “I’m so tired.” “And my clothes are wet and sticky too. Off with our clothes, everyone.”
And with that, everyone took off their sweaty and sticky clothes, until we were all bare and unclothed, and our skin had the freedom to breathe. Brains didn’t mind, no trousers meant his bandaged leg was showing anyway.
Dear Journal,
While on my way to Space City I happened to find a feather which floated down from the sky. But it wasn't an ordinary feather, it was blue and covered with jewels. I ran all the way to Space City to show Zoonie, Venus and Robert my new discovery, but then I decided that I wanted to sneak up behind all the residents and tickle them.
My first target was Venus. While she was experimenting with some space medicine, I snuck quietly up behind her and...tickle tickle tickle! Venus suddenly glowed blue and couldn't help laughing. I next went carefully up to Zoonie, who was asleep in his little bed in the corner. When I tickled him, he too turned blue as Zazu. Then I noticed Robert sitting by himself, enjoying a bit of peace and quiet. I snuck right up to him and started to tickle him. He began to laugh and laugh in his robotic ways, glowing blue as well.
Then I worked the feather's magic on Steve Zodiac, Commander Zero, Lt. Ninety and Jock Campbell until they were all laughing like maniacs. Then I took the feather to Professor Mattic for further investigation. He told me that it was a Elgactus bird feather, and the spell will be broken by midnight. By midnight, everyone had stopped laughing entirely, and had collapsed from too much laughter. Everyone was worn out, but an Elgactus bird was watching through the window, holding a feather in his wing...
There was one time—one ridiculous, awful, nearly-criminal time—when Commander Zero nearly starved poor Zoonie to death. I still think about it sometimes, how a simple day out turned into a slow-burning disaster of hunger, cold, and sheer disregard for the needs of a creature who just wanted to be treated kindly.
It all started with Venus needing a break. She had errands to run, shopping to do, peace to find. So, she asked Commander Zero if he’d mind watching Zoonie for the day. Not forever. Just a few hours. “Of course,” he said, pretending he was capable. Spoiler: he wasn’t.
Their first stop was the newsagents. Not to get Zoonie a snack—no, Zero just wanted to pick up a bottle of water. Functional. Hydration, tick. But Zoonie, being Zoonie, started to get that twitchy, whiny sound in his throat. The one that means hunger. It came over him like a wave. The kind of wave you feel in your chest, deep and growling. But instead of addressing it straight away, Zero hesitated. He thought maybe Zoonie could wait a bit longer.
Eventually, they stopped at a supermarket. Croissants. A bag full of them. Golden and flaky, the smell wafting up from the paper bag, warm from the bakery aisle. For a moment, Zoonie thought the day might turn around. One for him, one for Zero, maybe two for each? But no. At the power plant, Zoonie was handed one croissant. One. The rest were for Commander Zero’s family. Packed carefully away in the boot like state secrets. Zoonie chewed slowly, savouring it like a last meal. It wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough.
Later, they returned to the supermarket to get something more substantial for lunch. That’s when Zoonie began to really lose it—whining, howling, the kind of pitiful noise that draws looks from passing pensioners. You’d think Zero might have reconsidered his priorities at this point. But no. Commander Zero looked at Zoonie like he was the problem. Like hunger was a character flaw.
Then came the petrol station. It’s always the petrol station, isn’t it? Cold aisles, overpriced sandwiches, that weird metallic smell. And hunger. Zoonie threw a full tantrum this time. A wailing, stomping, full-body collapse. Zero just kept refuelling the car like Zoonie wasn’t in distress. As if tantrums were simply background noise.
When they finally arrived at the park, Zoonie was shivering. The air had gone cold, his tummy was empty, and lunch? Not even close to satisfying. Instead of the warm cocktail sausages Venus would have brought, he was handed coleslaw. Cold, wet, crunchy coleslaw in a paper cup. He spat it out instantly. And who could blame him?
By the time they got home, things only got worse. Professor Mattic—usually a calm presence—asked Zoonie to help lift some tools. No food, no rest, and now labour. Zoonie whined, staggered, and ran. It was all too much.
He ended up in Venus’ room, crawling onto her bed and bursting into loud, wet sobs. It was the kind of cry that comes from deep inside, the kind that says I wasn’t cared for. Venus came in, saw him, and just knew. She didn’t scold or ask what happened. She hugged him tight and told him the truth: “They did the wrong thing, Zoonie. They should have listened to you.” And with that, she let him curl up beside her. Warmth. Kindness. Actual care.
Here’s the thing: when you go out with a support worker you least love—the kind who’s too rigid, too distracted, or just plain indifferent—you notice every small injustice. Every hunger pang. Every cold breeze. Every bad food choice. And it builds. It builds until your body can’t hide it anymore. You throw tantrums not because you’re “difficult,” but because your basic needs were ignored.
If someone had just looked at Zoonie and said, “What do you need right now?”—this whole day could’ve gone differently.
Let it be a lesson. Bring snacks. Listen. Be gentle. Don’t be a Zero.
Zoonie the Lazoon has never been one for subtlety. Whether he’s bouncing around the Fireball XL5 crew with his chirpy “Welcome home, my heroes!” or zooming in at precisely the wrong time to throw everyone off balance, the little creature has a way of making himself known. But nothing—and I mean nothing—has quite rocked the Space City gossip orbit like the recent news that Zoonie has gotten a tattoo.
Yes, you read that right. A tattoo.
And not just any tattoo, but the name of someone he met a mere three days ago. The ink, reportedly etched in radiant Lazoonian script (a language only he and possibly Venus claim to understand), glows slightly in ultraviolet light, like some lovesick firefly trapped under his fuzzy skin.
Now, of course, this sparks a thousand questions, the first being: Who is this person? Sources close to Steve Zodiac claim Zoonie fell head over tiny heels for a charming flower seller on New Mars—an enigmatic figure with lilac fur, six fingers, and a voice like melted strawberry jam. She apparently gave Zoonie a cosmic daisy and called him “sparkle-paws” before vanishing into the violet mist. And that was enough. That was all it took. Three days later, boom—Zoonie walks into the Space City rec room with a freshly inked name glowing across his side, chirruping wildly and twirling in giddy loops.
Steve, predictably, spat out his nutrient coffee. Venus blinked twice and muttered something about hormones. Matt Mattics just said, “Well, I’ll be…”
And while Professor Matic is busy wondering if Lazoonian skin can even handle human-style ink, the rest of us are left wondering what drove Zoonie to such a bold, baffling move. Is this a genuine act of intergalactic love? A temporary obsession that’ll fade as fast as a Martian mirage? Or is it simply Zoonie being Zoonie—barreling into the world with all the impulse control of a toddler on a sugar high?
It’s not like we haven’t seen impulsive decisions in space before. There was that time Venus tried to redecorate the Fireball’s cockpit with floral curtains, or when Steve once shaved off his eyebrows during a bet with Commander Zero. But this? This is different. This is permanent. Inked. Etched. Immortalised on skin until Zoonie sheds his fur in a seasonal moult.
There’s something almost poetic about it, though. In a universe of constant motion—planets spinning, ships zooming, orders barked and dangers lurking—Zoonie paused long enough to feel. He met someone, he connected, and he did what no one else on XL5 dared to do: he committed. Even if it was absurd. Even if it was naive. He committed to that moment. To that person. To that daisy-scented flash of magic under the stars.
And honestly, isn’t that kind of beautiful?
Sure, everyone’s laughing now. Jock joked about covering it up with a tattoo of a nebula. Steve's been seen googling "Tattoo removal for Lazoons" when he thinks no one’s watching. But give it time. Maybe that flower seller meant more than any of us will ever understand. Or maybe, in a week, Zoonie will be chirping “I made a mistake!” and begging for a trip back to New Mars to talk things over.
But for now, Zoonie struts through Space City like the embodiment of pure, unfiltered devotion. A tiny fuzzball with a glowing name on his side and not a single regret in his heart.
And you know what?
Good for him.
I feel a bit funny after napping for an hour, but still, at least I got to enjoy a drink! I had this weird dream last night about seeing Venus from Fireball XL5 in the jungle, wandering free and soothed by the world around her, from water and flowers - could it be meaning something? Anyway, I did a Pinterest board themed all around Corgi - they're the die-cast toy makers responsible for the new Thunderbirds models that are coming out this year.
Look at photos of Zoonie and Venus online
Search up first birthday ideas
Bake a birthday cake fit for a 1 year old
Ice a birthday cake in pretty colours
Do some messy painting
Look at photos of when I was 1
Research ‘Pampers: Mom’s 1st Birthday’
Look at candles and cards for one year olds
Research Tweenies birthday cards
Research all the things you can do with a one year old
Make a list of gifts to give to one year old Zoonie
Watch the Old Bear episode ‘Ruff’
Dress in colourful clothes
Watch Fireball XL5
Search up pink bath bombs
Make some bath bombs
Bake a birthday smash cake
Draw fanart of Venus hugging Zoonie
Draw birthday clothes for Zoonie
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