Narrator:Mission accomplished: The trick now is getting out safely.
Der Trihs:The enemy has been neutralized, but we need extraction now! We have casualties!
Ennesby:Everybody join hands, i'll have you 'ported out in a jiffy.
Torpth'g'd'p'tawn:Ugh. That extraction of yours is somewhat unpleasant.
Der Trihs:Unpleasant? Unpleasant?! You crazy idiot! You cut the command center off of the wormgate-I don't know how much that will cost to fix-and you exposed one of my soldiers to explosive decompression!
Torpth'g'd'p'tawn:I accept full responsibility for the damage to the wormgate. I am the gatekeeper.
Der Trihs:And you think that makes it okay?
Tagon:Actually, it probably does make it okay. Stand down lieutenant.
Tagon:Doctor, what's the status on our men?
Bunni:Shep and Tod will be fine, sir. I'm not sure about schlock, though. He looks pretty bad.
Torpth'g'd'p'tawn:The sergeant will recover completely, doctor. Carbosilicate Amorphs are very resilient, and quite difficult to kill.
Bunni:You're an expert on the esoteric biology of amorphs?
Torpth'g'd'p'tawn:No, but I have killed them before.
Schlock:Oh, that's reassuring. Now give me back my plasgun before I have to hurt you.
Footnote:Meet Torpth'g'd'p'tawn, Gatekeeper of Nejjat: The astute reader may ascribe some significance to the similarity between the name "Torpth'g'd'p'tawn" and "Gasht'g'd'g'tang." In higher, more respected works of fiction (like science-fiction paperbacks) only the astute reader would know by now that Torpth'g'd'p'tawn works for the same organization that interrogated Tagon back in the strips that ran during the week of April 2nd through the sixth, and that Gasht'g'd'g'tang, who has been mentioned only in footnotes, must therefore have been directly involved in that interrogation. Less-than-astute readers would stumble along saying "howcome he said that?" or "I still think there should be noise in a vacuum. My vacuum makes noise."Fortunately, this is not a high, respected piece of fiction. This is a comic strip. I’m going to spell it out for you, be ye astute, thick, or three cellos short of a marching band: the brown aliens with the six legs and the horns are Bad Guys. Oooooh scary scary bad. You should now be shivering involuntarily with fear. Shiver, shiver.