Totally Radical Sportz!

Spaceships! – Episode 107

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 06/04/2012

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 107 – Trouble With The Crack

(The ailing Imperial Master Force King Hawaialekahi Wang is being wheeled down a long glass corridor of the Imperial One by his doctor; followed closely by his daughter Ling Wang, his son Lord Lung Wang and his son’s adviser Chi…)

King:  I see you’re still sending our men to pursue the lone rebel ship.

Wang:  Yeah, dad. They’re the bad guys. We’re the good guys. Duh.

Chi:  Good exposition, sir.

Wang:  Thank you, Chi.

King:  I want you to stop at once. We can’t be spending precious IMF funds on a single ship that could be millions of light years away by now. They stand no threat to us.

Ling:  Yeah, Lung.

Wang:  Shut up, sis. Dad, they’re bad guys!

King:  No more. The King has spoken.

Wang:  (pouts)  Fine.

(The King is wheeled away and Lord Wang makes his way toward the bridge with his sister and adviser in tow. Once on the bridge of the Imperial One, Lord Wang is met by Gen. Liang…)

Liang:  You rang, Lord Wang?

Wang:  That rhymed. General, I want you to undock this ship and point us toward the last known whereabouts of the rebel CSA supply ship.

Liang:  Sir, this is a supership. We aren’t exactly built for pursuit and deep space travel.

Wang:  Just do it! The King has ordered it so.

Liang:  Very well, sir.

Chi:  (pulling the Lord aside)  Sir, you’re directly going against your father’s orders.

Wang:  I am not my father, Chi.

Ling:  Dad is gonna kill you, brother.

Wang:  I’m not afraid of that old fart.  (pulls his sister closer)  Now, did you get that space sarong I messengered over?

Chi:  (coughs uncomfortably)

~~~

(In a hallway outside of the bridge of the CSS Moxie…)

Riggs:  (on tiptoes)  Miguel, where arrrrre you?

(Miguel the janitor peeks out of a nearby broom closet, giggling…)

Miguel:  Tee hee!

Riggs:  I hear you; but I don’t seeee you.

Miguel:  Tee hee!

Riggs:  I’m gonna get you!

Gary:  (glances down corridor from bridge, sighs)

~~~

(Ship security inspector Hunter Decquely is watching chef Ray Kwong race around the galley, baking a cake…)

Decquely:  This is really nice of you, Ray. Baking a birthday cake for Lt. Gary.

Kwong:  Yeah! She’s never gonna see it coming!

Decquely:  Boy, you’re really racin’ around this kitchen.

Kwong:  Well, the party’s tonight.

Decquely:  Still.

Kwong:  (sprints to cupboards)

Decquely:  (glances in a pot on the stove)  What’s this weird white residue?

Kwong:  That’s nothing! Please don’t touch it. It’s cake ingredients.

Decquely:  (licks fingers)  Tastes bitter.

Kwong:  What are you, the kitchen inspector now?

Decquely:  Well, technically I’m the inspector for the whole ship; which includes the kitchen, so yeah.

Kwong:  (grabs cleaver)  Just get out! Get outta my kitchen!

Decquely:  (hustles out galley)  Jeez, alright.

(Inspector Decquely glances back inside as fighter pilot Cliff Tuggs rushes in, grabs a package and rushes out…)

Decquely:  There’s something fishy going on here.  (turns to find Capt. Riggs standing inches from his face)  Um, hello.

Riggs:  (grinning)  Have you seen Miguel?

Decquely:  The janitor? No. Is something wrong?

Riggs:  Nope! He’s just really good at hiding.  (scampers off, tittering)

~~~

(Decquely follows Cliff Tuggs back to the hangar bay where he hands the package off to Tony Cole who tucks it behind him as he and Otis the mechanic are sitting around reading magazines…)

Cole:  Dang, look at the webbings on this Trafalganian girl’s feet. That’s dead sexy.

Otis:  Oh, mama.

Cole:  (holds up magazine)  Check that out, Cliff.

Tuggs:  Heh, yeah. Real hot stuff, Tone.

Cole:  Man, the things I would do to her. What would you do to this Trafalganian ho, Big C?

Tuggs:  Oh God, I’d probably…have sexual relations with her and stuff.

Cole:  Yeah, that’s my boy. Get it, Cliff!

Otis:  I’d put it in her butt.

Cole:  That’s disgusting, Otis.

Tuggs:  Really ruined the mood, Otis.

Otis:  Sorry, guys. I just wanna be buds.

(Attorney Hawk LeMont straggles into the hangar bay…)

LeMont:  You guys holdin’?

Cole:  What you want, Hawk?

LeMont:  (pulls out space cash)  I’ve got twenty.

Cole:  That’ll work. Hit the man, C.

(Cliff Tuggs hands the lawyer a vial and he scuttles off…)

Decquely:  What the devil is going on here?  (follows LeMont down a side corridor)

Cole:  (flips page)  Dang! This Farklac girl got a booty!

Otis:  (glances over)  Which one?

Cole:  The second one.

Otis:  Oh yeah, that’s a big butt.

Tuggs:  Hehe. Sure do like girls, you guys.

~~~

Riggs:  (wandering through a basement corridor)  Space Marco! … Space Marco! … You’re supposed to yell “Space Polo” after I say “Space Marco”, Miguel. … Miguel? … Miguel, did you suffocate in your hiding space? … Who’s gonna clean up all our messes?

~~~

(In a quiet corridor, Inspector Decquely turns a corner to find Hawk LeMont smoking out of a glass pipe…)

LeMont:  (inhales, holds it, exhales)  Hoo yeah, that’s good crack.

Decquely:  (ducks back behind corner)  Did he say ‘crack’? Oh my gosh, Ray is cooking crack and Cliff & Tony are selling it!

LeMont:  (glances down the corridor)  Hey Hunter, you want some of this crack?

Decquely:  (freezes, tries to hide, reluctantly peeks around corner)  Nope, I’m good.

LeMont:  You’re good?

Decquely:  Yup, I’m good.

LeMont:  So you’re good, then.

Decquely:  I’m good, Hawk.

LeMont:  (hits pipe)  Hey Hunter, you want some of this crack?

~~~

(That evening, everyone is gathered at Lt. Grace Gary’s birthday party in the communal dining area outside the galley. Hunter glares as Cliff hands Ray a wad of cash…)

Kwong:  Happy birthday, Lieutenant.

Gary:  (smiles at the cake)  This was very nice of you all. One tends to forget about everyday events in a time of crisis. It’s nice to be reminded of our humanity from time to time.  (glances around the room)  Where’s Capt. Riggs?

Grant:  He’s still playing hide & seek with Miguel the janitor, ma’am.

Gary:  Figures.

(Ray and Cliff share a private joke and laugh. Hunter’s eyes narrow as Hawk taps on the table next to him annoyingly, still wildly high on crack…)

Decquely:  (rises)  I’m sorry to interrupt your birthday festivities, Lieutenant; but somebody here is holding a deep dark secret and I think it’s time they come forward.

LeMont:  I’m high on crack.

(The table laughs…)

Gary:  Oh, Hawk. You silly schizophrenic. Somebody remind him to take his meds before he goes to sleep.

LeMont:  I’ll be awake for days!

Gary:  Hunter, you were saying?

Decquely:  Somebody here is holding a secret that could be harmful to all of us; and I just think that person should step forward.

Tuggs:  (rises quickly, knocks chair over)  Alright, fine. Fine! I’ll tell you all.

Decquely:  (satisfied smile)

Tuggs:  I’ve never told anyone this before; not even my own family. This is hard…

Gary:  Go ahead, Cliff. We’re all family here.

Tuggs:  (sighs)  I’m gay.

LeMont:  (raises hand)  Knew it!

Cole:  Oh, that explains a lot. We cool, man. Sorry about bothering you with those magazines, then.

Tuggs:  It’s okay, my dude. I was just keeping it all in for so long. Feels good to finally get it out.

Otis:  My father was gay.

Decquely:  (frowns)

Otis:  You know, after he had me.

Gary:  I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with us to share that, Clifford. But Hunter, I don’t see why this information could be harmful to the whole ship. That just seems very homophobic of you.

Cole:  Yeah. You should be ashamed of yourself, dude.

LeMont:  Hunter hates gays.

Decquely:  No! I don’t– I didn’t– I thought–

Gary:  That’s enough, Hunter. This is my birthday and I don’t want anymore ugliness. Thank you, Cliff. I feel this has brought us all closer together as a ship. As a Confederation. A Confederation is built on trust. If we stick together, stay on the move and regroup; we can find more followers, restart our campaign and finally take down the IMF. I give you my word. One day, the Imperial Master Force will fall.

(Capt. Riggs rushes in with Miguel the janitor in tow as the ship crew applauds the Lt.’s speech…)

Riggs:  I found him! I found him! He was asleep in the broom closet. Taking a “siesta”, as you people call it? That right, Miguel?

Miguel:  Si, Captain.

Riggs:  (pinches the janitor’s cheeks)  He’s so cute and little!  (glances at table)  What’s this, cake party?  (dips finger in frosting, licks it)  Ooh, vanilla!

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