Standard Disclaimers do apply. Don't sue me. I'm a poor graduate student.

Sealab Fan Fiction


"'And then Sparks tore his midnight blue jumpsuit open to reveal his ripped, taught chest, and White Debbie began licking it. It tasted kind of like butter pecan ice cream.'" Quinn stifled a laugh as he scrolled the text down further to read every last horrific bit. He leaned against the control panel attempting to maintain batter control.

"AS IF." Debbie huffed, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

"Shh," Quin interrupted. "It gets better. After you lick his chest 'like an ice cream cone' you perform a straaaaaaange sex ritual involving a balloon-sculpting clown and an emu."

Debbie clenched her eyes shut against the onslaught. "Oh God. Who writes this crap?"

The control center door slid opened and Sparks dragged himself—and his chair through the threshold. "What're you guys doing?"

Quinn pointed to the text on the monitor. "You READ this crap?"

"HEY! I don't go through YOUR stuff!" Sparks pushed Quinn away from his monitor console. Before he could get rid of the evidence, Debbie spun his chair around and tore open his jumpsuit. Before Sparks could get his hopes up, though, she grabbed hold of the bra strapped around his chest and snapped it, hard. "OWW!"

Debbie ripped the pink lacy bra off his chest and headed for the door. "My point exactly. Like I'd ever lick YOU."

"But I taste like butter pecan ice cream!"

Before Debbie could make her escape, Captain Murphy pushed her out of the way, waving an ice cream bucket in front of everyone. "Who ate it all? WHO ATE IT!"

Pushing a lock of hair out of her face, Debbie stumbled to her feet, glaring at Sparks. "Pig." Marching past Captain Murphy, she successfully stormed out.

"Who ate my ice cream?" Captain Murphy demanded. "I smell butter pecan." He sniffed Quinn. "Do YOU have my ice cream?"

"Talk to Sparks." Quinn kept scrolling through the story.

"What'd you do with it?" Captain Murphy sniffed Sparks once, then a second time. Tearing open Sparks' shirt, he sniffed again, then licked. "VILE FIEND!"

Sparks slapped the captain's hand away. "It makes my chest hair milky soft!"

Quinn turned around. "Sparks, why does the story end in the middle of a sentence? And what's a penis snor"

"Captain Murphy!" The captain licked Sparks' chest again. "Help me out here."

Quinn gave him a critical eye. "You buttered your chest-er-bread, now live with it."


Frustrated with life, White Debbie sat at the makeshift bar, indulging in Pod Six's one dollar drinks for ladies. "Its sad," she slurred, slumped over the crates making up the bar, staring at her margarita. "Happy hour is the best part of my day."

Her companion pushed another margarita towards her.

"Sparks is an idiot. I think he might have brain damage. And it's not like Stormy or the Captain are any nicer. They just don't understand what it's like being the only white girl named Debbie on Sea Lab." Picking up the wide mouth glass, she threw back the goldeny yellow alcohol and slammed the glass down. "You'd think Quinn would stick up for me, and KILL Sparks or something. That's only fair."

A hand surrounded by a blue sleeve slid another drink in front of Debbie.

Some loose locks of hair slipped out of her pony tail as she grabbed the drink, and she used her other hand to push the strands off of her forehead. Almost in the same motion, she consumed the contents of the glass in two gulps. "You're the only one I can trust. You don't write sick stories about me." Another golden and salted glass made it's way into her field of vision, which was blurring more and more by the second. She missed it when she grabbed the first time, but wrapped her hands around it. "You've always been a good friend to me. YOU would kill Sparks for me? Wouldn't you?" She rested her chin on both of her hands, but it started sliding through immediately.

Hesh pushed another glass in front of Debbie, and snapped his fingers for the balding ensign to keep them coming. "Hesh want sex."

"If you kill Sparks, I'll give you whatever you want, baby." Her head fell out of her hands, and dropped to the bar top as she passed out.


"Should this be making me feel giggly inside?" Captain Murphy asked as Sparks shoved the broken bottle in his face again.

"You're sick! You need help!" Sparks touched his sticky chest with a frown.

Quinn wasn't paying attention. He was still poured over the monitor. "Sparks, you can't write fan fiction about real people."

Sparks looked away from the cowering captain, lowering his bottle. "It's boring on night duty!"

Captain Murphy stuck out his tongue and lunged for Sparks' bare chest again. Sparks hit him over the head with the broken bottle, and it broke again, leaving jagged pieces in Captain Murphy's skull.

"You can't put YOURSELF in the story too." Quinn turned around, seeing the struggle for the first time. "What the HELL do you two think you're doing?"

They both looked up at Quinn, Murphy lifting his tongue off of Sparks' chest. "Nothing!" they declared in unison.


Hesh dragged White Debbie into his quarters past all the posters of the naked chicks and his fourteen lava lamps and flopped her onto the waterbed. It rocked back and forth like a choppy sea, and she stirred as he unzipped her wetsuit to reach for her lacy black bra.

"Kill Sparks… gotta kill first." Debbie's head rolled backwards. "Quinn."

Hesh shrugged and dumped Debbie onto the bed. He got up and went back out the sliding metal door.


Quinn was still leaning over Sparks' console and scrolling through his fiction when Black Debbie came onto the bridge.

"Where's Captain Murphy?" Blustering and angry, she held out a thick cable, split down the middle and frayed on the ends.

"I think he and Sparks went off somewhere to work out their differences." Quinn never looked up from the monitors. "A hundred and fifty feedbacks? For fan fiction about himself? He's an even bigger loser than I thought."

"LOOK at this. Just look at what he's done now! I want to know where the captain is." Black Debbie tapped Quinn on the shoulder with the broken cable,

"What'd the captain do THIS time?" Quinn mumbled, still scrolling through the feedbacks. "LISTEN to this: 'SprksfAn, This was the best one ever! I could SO picture Captain Murphy giving it to Marco in the storeroom all hard and dirty like that. It was such a loving and beautiful moment. You write rilly'—and she spelled it R-I-L-L-Y 'gewd for thirteen. I'll be fourteen next month. Are you in middle school or high school? TTYL, girlfriend. –Penny4Marco' That's SICK. I mean, sick for Sparks. And he screwed a chicken once."

Black Debbie smacked him in the head with the broken cable. "Are you paying ANY attention to me? WHERE is the captain? This is HIS mess!"

"I don't know, they said something about cosmetics and took off." Quinn looked at the cable. "Is he trying to eat power cables like energy pills again?"

"NO. But he got Dolphin Boy started on it. He told him copper was high in fiber, and it'd help him poop better. HE can explain to Fatty why it's wrong to eat the main power cable for the life support system just to get a jolt."

Quinn grabbed the cable out of her hand. "The MAIN power cable! But the auxiliary will only last for an hour. And it'll take longer than that to fix." There a sound of fans and engines dying. "What the HELL was that?"

Black Debbie waved the frizzy end of the cable in Quinn's face. "I spent ten minutes trying to dislodge that stupid child's seizing body from the cable, forty five looking for the captain, and five listening to you go on just because Sparks is an internet predator. Gosh darn it, you act like it's something new. WHERE is the captain?"

"We don't have TIME to look for the captain. We've only got forty five minutes' worth of air left on Sea Lab. Then we're all going to suffocate and die." Quinn grabbed his tool bag and headed out of the monitoring station.

Debbie followed him out. "That damned Dolphin Boy."


In the store room, Captain Murphy read the labels on the bulk food supplies. "Butter flavored Crisco. I know what that is. What can we do with it?"

Sparks looked at the list he had written out. "Women's moisturizer. Nothin' gets in, nothin' gets out."

"What about… an-choh-vies?"

"Um… facial mask."

Murphy stuck his tongue out. "It's a facial mask? What's it doing in here with the food?"

"Anchovies are little fishes." Sparks rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Now explain this again, who we're going to sell this stuff to?" Captain Murphy climbed down off of his step ladder.

"Well, Marco's a vain jerk. I figured we could pawn off the anchovy mask onto him. And if you get a couple of drinks in Debbie, you can probably sucker her into buying a gallon of our icing and lemon drop shampoo. And at fifty dollars an ounce, we can fund our other operation."

"The skin transplants?" Captain Murphy asked excitedly.

"The skin transplants," Sparks confirmed. "I want rock skin. Like the Hulk."

"You mean The Thing. The Hulk is the green guy. Green would clash with your eyes."

Sparks shrugged. "Whatever. I want to be orange. And I want to be able to walk through molten magma in my underpants."

Murphy rubbed his chest. "That'll be good. I was thinking of going baby-soft."

"Where're you going to get baby skin?"

"I figure Dolphin Boy has enough blubber on him to cover TWO of me."

Sparks nodded. "Sweet, dude.


Quinn leaned over the access panel for the life support system. He had begun rerouting power from the water filtration unit, and there was a mess of cables behind him, stretching across the room like a spider web.

"I can't BELIEVE everyone on this ship. NO ONE can help me with this? Well, you'll all be sorry. You'll be sorry when we STOP BREATHING AND DIE!" He clanged around, continuing to make adjustments, attempting to beat the clock. Making his final tweak, he stood up, holding the wrench above his head triumphantly. "But I DID it." He looked at his watch. "With SEVEN MINUTES to spare!"

Before he could give a grin of triumph, a chainsaw came hacking through the middle of the cables and Hesh walked through. "HESH WANT SEX!"

Quinn brought his wrench down upon Hesh's head eight or nine times. "You IDIOT. Now we're all going to DIE!" Grabbing what good cables were left, Quinn began diverting power from the temperature control system.

Hesh picked his head up off the ground, and looked around through bruised and nearly swollen shut eyes. "Sex for Hesh?"

Quinn reached for another cable to splice, and stepped on Hesh's head.


Standing in the doorway to his quarters, Marco sniffed the jar of green and grey paste. "And this stuff'll get rid of those little lines around my eyes? From uh, all my late nights working so hard on Sealab."

Captain Murphy and Sparks nodded.

Marco shrugged and handed over a hundred dollars. "I'll, uh, need another jar. For… testing purposes."

Sparks handed him a second jar. "Just remember to tell all of your friends about the miracles that Anchorejuvination worked in your life. Like Debbie. She's getting all long in the tooth and stuff. Oh yeah, and if you see Dolphin Boy, tell him we have dolphin-safe Tuna Oil for guaranteed weight loss."

"Yeah, we wanna milk the little fatty AND get him ready for transplant. I mean… help him slim up." Captain Murphy yanked the money out of Sparks' hands and added it to the rest of his stack, "I LOVE capitalism!"

Quinn wiggled a finger innocently. "C'mere, Dolphin Boy. I just want your help fixing this… before we all die a painful and horrible death from asphyxiation?

The rotund boy in the orange wetsuit gave a click and a whistle.

"Asphyxiation is when—never mind. Just get over here. You want to save the ship, don't you?"

Captain Murphy entered the engine room, his hands full of greenbacks and a look of lust in his eyes. "Here, Dolphie, Dolphie."

Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose. "Captain, if you don't MIND, we're BUSY. We have five minutes to fix YOUR mess."

"I don't make messes, I clean them up." He held up a bottle of soda mixed with boiled turkey fat. "Try some Fatulania. It's guaranteed to get out any stain"

"We don't have TIME!" Quinn tried to push him out of the engine room.

"GET HIM!" Murphy told Sparks. They lunged after Dolphin boy, but with a cluck and a tweet, the little fatty was gone. "Hurry! I must have my baby-soft!"


Marco wandered down the hall toward the engine room, screaming. "Akk! Damnit! My eyes! You didn't say it'd get rid of the wrinkles by turning it all into SCAR TISSUE! I CANT SEE, YOU LYING THEAVING DOOR TO DOOR SIDESHOW BASTARDS!" His eyes were swollen over and red.

Dolphin Boy clucked and ran through his legs and a second later, Captain Murphy and Sparks bowled him right over, crushing every bone in his body.

"Oh, the inhumanity," Marco muttered before passing out.


Quinn sighed and wiped his hands on his pants. "Well, that should do it. That's one damned fine jury-rig, if I do say so myself."

"How long do you think it'll hold?" Black Debbie asked.

Quinn looked at his handiwork. The chainsaw was jammed inside the life support system and the connection to the power supply was bridged by Hesh's vibrating, smoking body. "Well, probably until Hesh looks like fried chicken, I suppose."

Black Debbie chuckled. "If by fried chicken you mean a chicken that was ground zero at a nuclear blast."

"Hesh… like… SEX!"

Quin shrugged at Black Debbie. "I guess that means he wants us to turn the voltage up."

"Or maybe it's the amperage," Black Debbie volunteered. "I can never tell the difference."


"How's about both?" Quinn turned a knob and electricity began crackling off of Hesh's body.

Out of breath, Sparks, still on his chair, and Captain Murphy stopped at the door to the engine room. Murphy grabbed the door frame and hung onto it, exhausted. "Who'd have guessed that little porker could run that fast? Seen my new epidermis?"


Sparks sniffed the air. "That's awful. We have a moisturizing cream for that…"


In the penetrating darkness of Hesh's quarters, Debbie gave an exhausted sigh of contentment. "I should have given into the whims of The Hesh ages ago. Who'd have guessed you were such an… animal in bed?"

There was a rustle of the sheets followed by a whistle and a chirp.

Debbie screamed.