Narrator:It's been a week since the U.N.S. Battleplate Tunguska was destroyed. During that time our heroes have been pretty busy.
Narrator:It was a boring kind of busy though. Not much to tell, much less draw funny pictures about.
Narrator:Okay. So there was that one day when Jevee tried to claim that she'd planned this all along hoping Tagon would let her out of the brig. . .
Narrator:It's a good thing they went back for Bunnigus, Voyt, and the Mobile Hospital, because Jevee's eye now wouldn't stay put without medical help.
Xinchub:Too bad your purple skin hides the bruises.
Narrator:Tagon would have killed her, but he had to stop Xinchub from doing it first. Interventions can be relaxing, done right.
Jevee Ceeta:Yeah. Well your fat lip matches your fat face.
Narrator:Xinchub even signed their chit (In exchange for his reconstructive surgery.)
Tagon:This number looked big before I started on the payroll.
Narrator:Breya and her company remained cut off from their own resupply, though technically the Athens and the Sarasota were still U.N.S. property.
Breya:Look at it this way, Tagon. Now you have Monkeys.
Narrator:This did not stop anyone from pretending, for at least a little while, that between the two of them, Tagon and Breya now had their own Fleet.
Narrator:The funerals for Colonel Clarence Jaksmouth and Ensign Flib Sh'vuu, along with another half-dozen casualties were a solemn reminder of how much worse things could have been.
"Putting the 'Fun' back in your funeral!"
Narrator:That didn't stop everybody from complaining, though.
Der Trihs:Kevyn, this prosthetic body-thing is terrible.
Kevyn:That was the only set I could find with matching pieces. You could do worse than a full suit of dwarf armor.
Der Trihs:Yeah? Not very much worse.
Schlock:Now you look just like you do on TV!