Dipshits in Space: Season 8

86: Again with the stupid dream machine

Alarms sounded across the ship as a bunch of dipshits blinked and stood around in a circle around a very large device with a timer counting down.

"What the crap?" Marley said, jumping back. What just happened to us? I was playing my game buddy and trying to relax so I could figure out how to fix the cloaking device and now there's a bomb in the kitchen. What did I miss? What was in my weed!?" he yelled.

"Calm down, Marley." Malone said. "I don't remember what happened either, so it's not just you. One second I was with Lawg on an alien planet, then everything went bright and now I'm back on the ship, next to a bomb."

"That doesn't make me feel better. That just means I'm not crazy, but it confirms that there is a huge bomb on the ship." Mar yelled.

"Damn that's actually worse." sighed Malone. "Anyone have any clues here?" he asked the big Greg copy with the look of confusion.

"I don't have any memory of it either, but we don't have time to worry about that right now." Said a very alarmed looking Adrian, which in and of itself, is pretty terrifying. "This bomb only has a minute left." he muttered.

"Marley, you and Riea have diffused a bomb before." Lawg reminded.

"Dude, we failed real bad, it with a lot more time, and we weren't confused and roofied when we messed that up. It was just a poorly made bomb and we ended up letting it blow."

"Can we just throw a blanket on this one and run, basically do that plan again where we hope for the best?" Lawg asked.

"Oh, no." Adrian said examining the bomb. "I don't know what you had last time but this isn't something we can let blow. It's got enough antimatter to nuke a small moon. If we launched in a shuttle pod ten seconds ago, at full speed, we wouldn't clear the blast range by a long shot."

"Okay mister super smart alien robot man. Mister "I'm the original Greg, Adrian" guy. Please diffuse the bomb please." Lawg ordered politely.

"I'm smart enough to know how fucked we are. This is a holographic timer and this is adapted from Vaath technology. Even I can't hack Vaath technology without an hour, and some specialized gear we don't have. We're just dead. Well, you all are dead. I'll just be rendered into a glowing skull and spinal column and thrown at a fair percent of light speed into a hibernation state. Everyone else is fucked." he nodded.

"Anyone else notice the Adrian Greg says the f-word slightly more?" Lawg asked.

"Shut up, asshole, there's a bomb." Adrian said, smacking him in the back of the head.

"What kind of special gear do we need?" Marley asked, looking like he had an idea.

"Numerical processor core, some kind of decoding algorithm software to convert Vaath to base ten, maybe a gram of Columbian blow to calm my nerves and sharpen my senses and probably an 8 ounce can of pure luck, if that even exists. This keypad here has a 59 digit disarming code in a language I haven't even fully mastered, years back when I took a course in Vaath. I could try every combination possible, as fast as I could type for a hundred years before I got it, without a key generator program pushing at least 50 Omni-flops of processing speed, it's pointless. We're dicked."

"What about a bootleg game-buddy 7XL console with a 5 Omniflop processor?" Mar asked.

"Yea, that might work if I had 24 hours to spare. We got about 48 seconds." Adrian informed. "Whoever made this bomb is smarter than most movie writers."