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Spaceships! – Episode 106

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 05/30/2012

The Confederate Space Alliance (CSA) crew of the CSS Moxie are on the run from the Imperial Master Force (IMF) through the deep recesses of space…

Episode 106 – Broken

(Lord Wang is in the basement gymnasium of the Imperial One, fencing with his top adviser Chi…)

Wang:  (bops Chi on noggin with sword)  Another victory for the great Lord Wang!

Chi:  Yes, sir. Very good, sir.

Wang:  You really are remarkably terrible at sword-fighting, Chi.

Chi:  Yes, sir.

Wang:  You have to think before you move. I realize that’s probably difficult for someone of your lineage to understand. Living up in the Cocyx Mountains of Planet Wangoria with all the other serfs. It’s a good thing I rescued you from those space gold mines.

Chi:  Yes. Thank you, sir.

Wang:  So, go another round or shall we retire to the arcade?

Chi:  The arcade, sir.

Wang:  Fetch the royal quarter jar.

Chi:  Yes, sir.

~~~

(CSA attorney Hawk LeMont is sitting across from former IMF pilot Faried Turner in the basement holding cell of the CSS Moxie…)

LeMont:  (snorts line of cocaine)  And see, if all those slaves in the Cocyx Mountain gold mines just rose up together; they could conquer Wangoria. That’s why King Wang and his son and everybody are orbiting the planet in their space vessels; ’cause they don’t think anybody can get to them up there. It’s all connected, Rasheed.

Turner:  It’s Faried. And do you think you should be doing that stuff in here? There are cameras.

LeMont:  There’s no laws anymore, man. It’s just us now. I can get you out of here. You just gotta work with me.

Turner:  Wait. You’re my lawyer? Aren’t you a paranoid schizophrenic?

LeMont:  (throws hands up)  I’m everybody’s lawyer! I’m the last lawyer in the universe!  (cackles maniacally)  Except for all of the Imperial Master Force’s lawyers, I guess.

~~~

(Inspector Hunter Decquely is watching Capt. Bob Riggs and Lt. Grace Gary play chess on the bridge…)

Gary:  Checkmate. That’s four in a row.

Riggs:  Rack ’em again, Gary.

Gary:  We should really focus on that group of ships out in front of us. We could be in peril.

Riggs:  Just send Cole and Tuggs out there. Rack ’em!

Gary:  You are the worst chess player ever.

Riggs:  So you’re really from Wangoria, Decquely?

Decquely:  Yes, sir. I was raised in the slums outside of the capital.

Riggs:  Wow. Was it awful?

Decquely:  Well, they were slums…

Riggs:  So…awful?

Decquely:  Yes, sir. It was awful.

Riggs:  Wow, that sounds awful.

Gary:  Checkmate.

Riggs:  I didn’t even move yet!

~~~

(Chef Ray Kwong discreetly hands fighter pilot Cliff Tuggs a package down in the galley…)

Tuggs:  (opens package) This the stuff?

Kwong:  Yup. That’s primo beef jerky. Don’t tell anybody I gave you that. There isn’t enough to go around until I get another cow.

Tuggs:  I knew you had a cow!

Kwong:  Not anymore. You got the cash?

Tuggs:  Well, I don’t have any money per se; since we don’t get paid anymore. But I can give you this.  (hands the chef a small bag)

Kwong:  What is this? Broken glass?

Tuggs:  It’s crystallized methamphetamine. You smoke it.

Kwong:  But I don’t wanna smoke crystallized methamphetamine.

Tuggs:  Then you sell it to somebody who does wanna smoke it. It’s as good as cash. Cole & I have been cooking it up here in your kitchen after you go to sleep. Gives you an energy boost on long flights.

Kwong:  I’m beginning to think you and Cole are bad influences on me.

Tuggs:  Watch me stuff all this jerky in my mouth at once.  (stuffs hand in bag)

~~~

(CSS Moxie pilot Sgt. Tyrone Jones radios the five ships in front of them…)

Jones:  This is Sgt. Tyrone Jones of the CSS Moxie. May I ask who I’m speaking with?

Scorpion:  I am Scorpion. You have entered the zone of the Venom Clan. Depart at once or prepare to meet your maker.

Riggs:  (looks up from twelfth chess game)  Our maker? Like the maker of this crap ship? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.

Gary:  He means he’s gonna kill us. Can we stop our chess marathon for a second and deal with this situation?

Riggs:  Sure, if you wanna be a big quitter loser girl.

Gary:  (sighs)

Scorpion:  You have tarried too long. Prepare to meet your doom, fools!

(The five ships open fire on the CSS Moxie…)

Jones:  Heat shields down! Outer cannons down! They’re toasting us, boss!

Gary:  Put Tuggs and Cole in the air.

Riggs:  Hey! I’m the Captain.  (clears throat)  Jones, put Tuggs and Cole in the air!

Gary:  Checkmate. That’s thirteen in a row.

Riggs:  (frowns)  Are you peeking at my cards?

Gary:  What.

~~~

(Cliff Tuggs puts the PL-0900 in the air and barrels toward the five Venom Clan ships, strafing the sides of the fleet while Sgt. Jones directs him from inside the Moxie…)

Jones:  That’s it, Tuggs. Keep movin’. Bob and weave.

Tuggs:  This would be a lot easier if we had two jets out here.

Gary:  I think it’s time we give Turner his final test. He proved himself earlier when he got those bounty hunters off our tail. Plus he’s the only one who knows how to fly the NG-4000.

Riggs:  But he’s IMF! They’re the bad guys. We’re the good guys.

Jones:  Good exposition, Captain.

Gary:  Nearly everybody on this ship was IMF at one point or another.

(Tuggs’ jet does a barrel roll under two of the ships and manages to take one out before being hit…)

Tuggs:  I dropped my jerky!

Riggs:  (grabs the radio, angrily)  Where’d you get jerky?!

Gary:  Stop bringing food on your missions, Cliff.

Jones:  We need another bird in the air, Captain.

Riggs:  Put Cole in the IMF plane.

Gary:  The NG-4000? He’s never flown it before, Bob.

Riggs:  He’s a flyer guy. He flies things. What do they call it?

Jones:  Pilot, Captain.

Riggs:  Can’t be that hard.

~~~

Cole:  This is too hard!

(Otis the mechanic and Tony Cole are in the cockpit of the IMF NG-4000 in the hangar bay…)

Cole:  Look at all these buttons! The PL-0900’s have, like, three.

Otis:  Just click some stuff and see what happens. Captain said it’ll be like falling off a log.

(Cole flips a switch and the jet goes in reverse — with Otis hanging onto the side of the cockpit — before slamming into the rear of the hangar bay. Cole throws up his hands and exits the jet fighter…)

Cole:  I’m out.

(Otis limps to the radio and calls the bridge…)

Otis:  We need the IMF kid. Also, does this ship have a first-aid kit?…How ’bout an aspirin?…At least the IMF had Space HMO.

~~~

(In the basement holding cell, Capt. Riggs and Lt. Gary are speaking with Faried Turner and the ship’s attorney Hawk LeMont…)

Riggs:  We’d like to finally welcome you to the team, Juwanna!

Turner:  Faried.

Riggs:  Close.

LeMont:  My client wants his own suite; private chef; and three to four private hookers a month.

Riggs:  He shares a bunk bed with Otis; he eats what the dog eats; and Grace here’s the only chick on the ship and — trust me — she does not put out.

LeMont:  Deal.

Turner:  I don’t want to eat what the dog eats.

Gary:  Relax, Faried. We don’t even have a dog.

Riggs:  Aww. I want one, though!

LeMont:  (claps hands)  Alright, let’s get this kid suited up! Go! Go! Go!

Riggs:  I gotta say, Hawk. You seem a lot more lively than usual today.

Turner:  He’s on drugs.

Riggs:  Faleed, Hawk is a paranoid schizophrenic. Of course he’s on drugs. Show some respect.

~~~

(After dispatching of the Venom Clan, Turner and Tuggs return to the hangar bay to raucous applause…)

Tuggs:  (pats Turner on the back)  Nice shootin’ out there. Welcome to the team, Faried.

Riggs:  Great job, everybody. Now let’s bunk up; we’ve got a lot more space to travel tomorrow.

(Faried enters a small storage closet where the ovoid Otis is spilling out of his boxers, climbing onto the top bunk…)

Otis:  If you feel the bed shaking, it’s just one of my seizures.

Turner:  Should I call someone?

Otis:  No no, just let it ride out. And don’t look!  (bed immediately starts rocking)

Turner:  (crawls onto bottom bunk, sighs)

~~~

(In the arcade of the Imperial One, Lord Wang has lost another game of Chess Arcade 2000…)

Wang:  No fair! This machine’s peeking at my cards!

Chi:  (sighs)

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