Dipshits in Space: Season 10

118: The Last Episode (Part 2)

"You smell that?" Gizzy sniffed, her eyes glowing.

"Gizzy you better not have just farted." Roy barked.

"No, dumbass, I'm not Lawg. Osirians don't even fart, read a damn textbook for shit's sake. It's Methyl-chromium Hexafluoride."

"Because I speak quantum chemistry!?" Roy bitched.

"That's the smell of a fade-out. We just entered a 2-parter. It's not remotely over." Gizzy growled.

"Alright. Uka's wired up and barely still breathing. The dream machine is wired to the USB port, conveniently available in this mainframe panel. Nobody knows why that's there."

"Hey, this used to be my ship, I wanted MP3 hookups on every floor so I could work with music. Old mp3's sound better than streaming music, almost as good as vinyl."

"Why are we taping the cables to the wall? We don't have anything more futuristic?" Roy complained.

"What do you want from me, ya giant toaster? You want a series of tiny magnets in the cable that could scramble the data, or some kind of hover-pack that runs out of batteries like EVA boots when you need them? It's functional, it's reliable. Tape the damn thing to the wall."

"This is taking forever. Can we just let the wires dangle?" Roy said, screwing the anchors to the steel wall.

"No, that's how you screw things up. We're about to go Odin-knows how deep into the dreams of someone else who's mentally controlling the entire moon. What if gravity shits out and we start floating around among wires and headsets? This is so clearly predictable that we would be idiots to not tape them down before we strap ourselves in for the ride. Do you wanna end up stuck in a dream, unable to wake up because there's no gravity and you floated away from the wires and unplugged something important? No you don't. Now stop bitching and tape yourself to the airbag and buckle in. This is gonna suck like the vacuum of space itself." Gizzy said, flipping the switch and plugging herself in.

"Cant believe we lost track of Menace right after landing." Marigold sighed, Duffy and Malone sitting on the floor with her, in the dimly lit Yeetball.

"Well." Duffy sighed. "I think Gizzy's theory is right."

"Ya lost me, dawg." admitted Malone.

"Okay, we get pulled right back into the action and backups all destroyed, 3 of us are gonna die, Menace clearly can't ever get a scratch and because none of us 3 can survive decompression, we can't chase after her. She's the only one who could scutter to an airlock holding her breath and not freezing, leaving us 3 here with no EVA suits. This whole situation just left us here to die and Menace safely elsewhere, conveniently so."

"What!? Lawg said he gave us 4 EVA suits."

"Yea...but did he charge any of them, or forget that like he does every time?" Duffy asked.

"Can we wire them together somehow and share air?"

"No Malone...we can't. Gizzy took all the damn tape and none of us can reliably disassemble an EVA suit without ruining it, even if that made sense. We're gonna die, someone first, obviously it's me."

"Why obviously? We can draw straws or something." Malone suggested.

"Because if Gizzy's right and this is just a stupid cartoon...who out of us dies? The cool psychic, the Captain's cousin who just settled into the crew...or the fat chick who's single-handedly preventing the Captain from poon-hunting adventures, and is replaceable by any other female crewmember?" she complained.