"Hey..." Marley said, putting his feet up and staring at the stars.
"Yea." Yawned Captain Lawg."
"You know those movies where two bachelor dudes just travel the world and have fun being bachelors and constantly finding adventure and women and no matter where they go they got each other's back so they don't need no hoes tying them down?" he asked.
"Yep." Lawg said as his eyes glazed over.
"That's Fricken bullshit, Lawg." he muttered as the camera view drew back to show a rather haphazard den filled with empty soda cans and liquor bottles, and random clothes. All around lie hundreds of paper-towels everywhere, like a small burning-man festival run by tiny freeloaders who had popped up tents in the middle of the ship.
"I agree. This is intolerable, no women, nobody to clean or make space travel seem actually fun...just drifting and silence...only coffee to warm our souls." Lawg said darkly, sipping his gin and gin cocktail with a look of disgust...because it's gin.
"Coffee is gone." Marley noted.
"Depresso." Lawg whispered. "What about that artificial instant crap?"
"One container, but it's pumpkin spice." He shrugged.
"Unaccepta-brew." He growled.
"What happened to the luck of the Chaffee? What happened to the universe providing? She hasn't provided jack shit for what feels like eternity." Marley said "The women gone and the Robot is still crashed from the bad update, this blows." he added.
"Lady Luck ran out about when the paper towels did." Lawg sighed.
"We're out of paper towels? That's great, so when we spill something or burn a spot in the carpet, what are we gonna cover it with? We can't use toilet paper, we're already rationing it out." he said looking back at the impressive camp of tiny tents stretching through the ship. There was a thump and they both looked excited, like Santa had dropped in from the galactic north-pole bringing eggnog and ho-ho-hoes, both furry and non. Duffy stepped out of the cargo bay and was met with a sudden hug from both of them.
"What is that smell?" she asked Lawg.
"It's us...we went smell-blind days ago. The shower wont drain, water pressure is a trickle and we have been taking turns bathing in the engine room with hand towels and vodka. It stings, Duffy, it strings the tender bits. Make the water go down." Lawg slurred.
"Damn, I leave you for 2 days and you turn into trolls, do I even wanna know what you did with the paper towels?" She asked.
"It's been weeks!" Marley objected.
"Look, check my communicator watch. It's been 52 hours since I left. Two days and 4 hours since I left and you wrecked the ship...what is this crap?" she said cautiously touching the towel-tent by her foot. Marley looked ashamed.
"Spilled a bag of peanuts." he said softly.
"So you just hid it under a paper towel?" she asked.
"The vacuum broke right after you left, didn't know how to clean it so we decided to just quarantine the mess and it kinda just escalated from there."
"How do you break the vacuum cleaner...its just a hose that leads to space and a valve to open it...we are IN the vacuum. No, never mind. This is ridiculous. Lawg is so sober he can barely stand because you can't unclog a drain and you've been bathing in booze? Again...it's a drain into to space. If it clogs, you open it and close it and it's fixed. And how many bathes could you possibly need in 2 days and still somehow smell like a death-fart in a brewery?" she asked.
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Dip$h!+s in space: Season 2
Science FictionThe Crew of the SS Tast-E-Chill are back, probably because they never left to begin with. The same level of random stupidity has continued beyond and into darkness, in this moderately anticipated squeal of the ongoing series that thinks it's a TV sh...