Sunday August 20, 2000

Book 1: The Tub of Happiness
Diplomatic Pouch of Doom


Narrator:Pinned down in the Creeth transfer station, Captain Tagon, the Creeth Ambassador, and two of "Tagon's Toughs" evaluate their options. Surrender is not one of them...
Schlock:I count about twenty-five Creeth marines between us and the shuttle, sir.
Brad:My gauss-pistol has only recharged to about 30%, captain.
Tagon:Right. Are you boys ready to go down in a blaze of glory?
Schlock:By "blaze" you mean "funeral pyre", right sir?
Brad:And by "glory" you mean "stupidity"?
Ch'vorthq:I can clear a path to the shuttle for you, Captain Tagon.
Tagon:How, Ambassador? You aren't armed.
Ch'vorthq:I'm a walking bomb, remember? I can set myself off to save you.
Tagon:I can't let you do that.
Schlock:We can.
Ch'vorthq:The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.
Tagon:Ancient movie-quotes aren't going to win me over on this one.
Schlock:You've sold us on your plan, Ambassador. We'll hold Tagon. You go be noble.
SFX:(Ch'Vorthq's prosthetic whisk) Whirr
SFX:(Ch'Vorthq blowing up) BOOM
Tagon:Go Go Go!!!
SFX:(Schlocks Plasgun) THOOOM
Brad:We're away!!!
Tagon:Bogies at six-o-clock, Brad! Take evasive action!
Brad:What, now? It's only four-fifteen.
Brad:Awright, awright. So it's an old joke. Look at me, taking evasive action, as ordered.