Sunday August 11, 2002
Narrator:Aboard the mercenary superfortress 'Post-Dated Check Loan' plans are put into motion. Dangerous plans...
Bunni:Move, people! Thirty seconds!
Petey:Scans show we're clear, captain. Seal up, and sit tight.
Tagon:Roger that, petey. Everyone is accounted for.
Ch'vorthq:How long is this missile drill going to take, captain? I've got a cake going that needs attention.
Tagon:That depends on how the drill goes, sergeant.
Tagon:If we botch the missile drill, we'll be trying out the 'damage control' drill, and I'm willing to bet you'll have to just write off that cake altogether.
Narrator:In bay number four, a lone fabber-bot gets an upgrade.
Narrator:It now knows how to take things apart very, very quickly- hopefully before they can explode.
Petey:Captain, the drones have isolated a missile. I'm bringing it in now.
Reverend:Captain, About this drill... Should I be praying for... Um... Successful drilling?
Tagon:That sounds like an excellent idea. Just make them fast prayers.
Narrator:The breacher missile is made to think it's not through the shields yet. The complex gravitics in bay four fool it long enough for fabby to get in close with his nifty new set of tools...
Narrator:Alas, poor fabby. We hardly knew thee.
Tagon:Sorry, Ch'vorthq. Sounds like we'll be busy for a while yet.
Ch'vorthq:Oh it's no trouble. I bet my cake fell, anyway.