The Simpson's: In Space: Season 1: Episode 1: Part 1

(The date is October 3rd 5009: Time, 1:00 AM Orion Standard Time, local time 11:38 AM, Friday. In orbit over the coral moon of Asogur, Di-In and his Novus Aloo are onboard a Confederate frigate)

Di-In: Have we reached the planet yet?

Clone pilot: Yes sir but we can't get San's signal.

Aloo: I thought we would never get here, remind me again why it took almost a month to get here?

Di-In: Paperwork lots and lots of paperwork my dear. I've hated that stuff since my youth and I still loath it now.

(Meanwhile on the moon's surface San and his bodyguards have just landed.)

Bodyguard 1: Sire we can't get a signal from Di-In's ship.

San: I have a bad feeling about this.

(Lith'mar appears out of nowhere with two Fodder Droids behind her.)

Lith'mar: (Seductively.) You know you really shouldn't say things like that, everyone knows that saying. "I have a bad feeling about this" is bad luck.

San: Aren't you Admiral Bob's assassin?

Lith'mar: Yes I am.

San: Were you trying to clumsily seduce me?

Lith'mar: (Bashfully.) Um… no don't be silly.

Fodder Droid 1: (Whispers.) She does that to psych people out.

San: Is there a reason why you're here?

Lith'mar: I believe my master can answer that question. (She pulls out a hologram of Bob, in the bathroom.)

Bob: AHH! Lith'mar what have I told you about calling me while I'm having a tinkle!

Lith'mar: Sorry my master, but he wanted to talk to you.

Bob: Oh, wait weren't you Otiv's assistant?

San: Was his assistant, or slave to be more precise. I take you heard why I'm here?

Bob: My spies serve me well. Anyway I believe I would love that intelligence.

San: I bet you would… you pansy.

Bob: WHAT! Lith'mar destroy him!

Lith'mar: With all due respect that's not an excuse to kill him.

San: What is it you want you weirdoes?

Bob: Let me put this way, what makes you think that the mighty Di-In can protect you when he can't protect himself? Lith'mar! Qarp in the frigates on the other side of the system!

Lith'mar: By your command my lord.

(Meanwhile in orbit a pair of pirate ships warp into the system and fire blindly at the Confederate frigate.)

Di-In: What the frell is going on?

Clone captain: WOK ships have just ambushed us.

Di-In: (Aggravated.) Oh please don't say it.

Clone captain: It's a trap!

Di-In: That's our cue to leave.

(He, Aloo, and three clone marines head to the escape pod bay.)

Clone captain: In an escape pod sir? They may be firing blindly but one lucky shot might kill you!

Di-In: Then launch all of the pods Turvack!

(On the bridge of the WOK ship, a Fodder droid is at a console and he is approached by a Turok with an eye patch.)

Fodder Droid Gunner: Wait sir I think I have them now.

(He continues to fire at all but the escape pod Di-In and Aloo are in and they crash land on the moon.)

Turok Captain: You idiot! That was the worst shot I have ever seen! I said fire down there nose not up it!

Fodder Droid Gunner: Ah well, it's my programming.

Turok Captain: Not that stupid excuse again. (He slices off the droids head with a plasma cutlass.)

(Meanwhile on Earth, Homer gets a call in the middle of the night.)

Homer: (He's half-asleep.) Who is this and why are you calling me in the middle of the night?

Tyler: I'm asking myself that as well.

Homer: (Screams.) Lieutenant Tyler! What do you want from me?

Tyler: I just wanted to let you know that you're to be recalled back to your tour of duty.

Homer: But I have a wife and kids! Besides, I and Grunchy resigned after last time. You know when Oth gave me that discharge?

Tyler: Yes, but your mercenary contract haven't expired yet, and were prepared to pay you handsomely.

Homer: Hmm… I don't know, how much do you mean by 'handsome'?

Tyler: Maybe, oh I don't know. 750-950-million credits maybe?

Homer: WHOA! Wait isn't that a bit much? I mean you know Me and Grunchy are incompetent.

Tyler: Don't be ridicules; Grunchy is the competent of you two. How about just 5-million credits?

Homer: I don't know I might have to talk this over with my wife.

Tyler: You may, but just a heads up there's a mutant horse right behind you.

Marge: I'M NOT A HORSE!

Homer: Sir that joke was funny the first five times or so but now it's getting really old, really fast.

Tyler: Sorry but um… why didn't anyone tell me it was so early in the morning? I'm cutting transmission now good night!

(He hangs up.)

Marge: Homer I know we could use the money, what with Aon asking for such a large pay-check. But I don't want you risking your life for only high pay.

Grunchy: (He enters the room with a tired look on his face.) Look lady I'm not sure how you feel but I'm getting antsy to crack some skulls, or anything that comes to mind or can get my hands on. Besides if we can we will keep tabs on the young Seraph Ashla despite her protests, mine and those of her colleagues and almost everyone else in the universe until she breaks down into tears and moves back in with you. But don't hold your breath. Twi'grutans very rarely gives up without a fight and blood up to their necks.

Marge: Hmm… that may be a good idea.

Grunchy: I'll tell the kids in the morning.

(Meanwhile on Asogur at the crashed escape pod.)

Aloo: Is everyone alright?

Di-In: I have a splitting headache but that's about the worst of it. How about the rest of you?

(He looks at the three Clone marines that came down with them. Including Captain Ben, and Privates Prince and Katar.)

Ben: Were pretty banged up, but the equipment is still intact.

Di-In: Which would be… how much?

Katar: (He pulls out a Gatling gun.) About enough to wipe out half a battalion, give or take.

(A large pirate drop ship descends into the distance.)

Prince: Sir there's a large drop ship descending into the distance.

Ben: For the final time I'M the one who points out the obvious things. I'm the captain in this outfit!

Di-In: Will you keep it down I have to call San, let him know that the deal has been compromised!

(He calls San.)

San: Di-In if this is about the WOK I'm being held hostage by one of their assassins.

Lith'mar: Don't exaggerate the situation you treacherous worm.

San: Why does everyone call me that?

Di-In: In any case why is she here?

San: Spies.

Di-In: Spies, why does it always have to be spies?

Lith'mar: Let's make a compromise. You have forty-eight hours to get to our position. If you aren't here by then I get the intel. But if you do get here by the allotted time you will receive your precious information.

San: Turvack 'Vadam! I didn't bring one of the most dangerous Telkine in the galaxy to play a game!

Di-In: Perhaps, but she already sent some soldiers so neither of us have a choice in this matter anyway. See you tomorrow!

(His communication ends, San and Lith'mar then look at each other awkwardly.)

San: So… what are we supposed to do for the next two days?

Fodder Droid 2: Bad question.

(Lith'mar tears of the droids head. Roughly eleven hours later and on Earth Aon receives a call from Armss'rej.)

Aon: Please tell me you didn't just say what you thought you said?

Armss'rej: Yes I did suggest sending your son Tsaritsyn on a dangerous high risk infiltration to the planet Soma.

Aon: I just said don't tell me! Why in your right mind would you stage an exchange-student program between the Federation and the Somite Theocracy anyway!

Armss'rej: Don't talk to me with that tone you know the stakes in this war.

Aon: Listen very carefully; I don't want anything to do with the war! Besides the Somites have been relatively well behaved over the last two-hundred years despite their senseless disregard for alien life and there godless and blasphemous experiments on just about anything of interest to them but.

Armss'rej: But nothing! That boy has at least five years' worth of black ops training the least that could happened would be that he put it to good use. (Aon is angrily hyperventilating.) As it is from what intel we have gathered so far the Somites have been providing bio weapons to both WOK and Cartel remnant forces

Aon: (She yells in frustration.) FINE! If it'll be the death sentence of those, Q'kila-Ara then I'll allow it. Just give me the name of the little shizno that'll be sent our way.

Armss'rej: I believe her name is Mary-Sue… Venus Shadowfax Freya Isis Honolulu Nymph Angels-Whom Valkyrie Poinsettia Rose-thorn Lothlorian Morgan Leliana Horse-Mane Lotus Sun-Tear Rosetta Sirens-Anthem Lilith Pointless-but-funny-Twilight-bashing Pandora.

Aon: (She shudders.) What is it about people named "Mary-Sue" That just puts me off?

Armss'rej: That makes just about our entire species. Anyway I would go into detail about Miss Venus but I kept getting nauseas almost immediately after reading.

Aon: She's that bad isn't she? Just a dumb question what if this Mary-Sue etc, etc is in fact a Somite spy?

Armss'rej: If you catch her with anything that could compromise anything of importance… snap the banshee's frelling little neck! Also just a quick heads up we already have two agents on Soma.

Aon: There not Tsaritsyns delinkwent little friends from school are they?

Armss'rej: I wouldn't know, I deal in military intelligence not domestic. Anyway goodbye and may your final hours be with glory! (He hangs up.)

Aon: Imbecile.

(Marge and Homer enter the room.)

Marge: What was that all about?

Aon: Nothing that concerns you, that much I'll say.

Marge: Oh, well anyway don't you think it's exciting that were getting an exchange student from another planet?

Homer: Marge don't you remember what happened the last time we did this thing?

Marge: Homer this is a student from some planet called Soma, not a spy from Albania.

Aon: No Marge, Homer is partially right. Somites are about as untrustworthy as the rest of your people but are far more hated and reviled. In fact the sins of Orion are almost nothing compared to Soma's

(Meanwhile on Asogur at about the same time, Lith'mar is conversing with Bob.)

Lith'mar: My troops are done deploying.

Bob: Excellent, though I do think that so much hardware cramped into one dropship was a little overdone. How many droids do you need to kill a Lukus anyway?

Lith'mar: That depends on how competent they are, and since Di-In is here these forces are completely necessary.

Bob: Oh come one no one is that good.

Lith'mar: You'd think so, but this guy has been fighting warrior all his life which is almost nine-thousand years. So I'd doubt he'd just give up without bloodshed.

Bob: But these droids don't even have blood!

Lith'mar: My point is still the same, over and out.

(Lith'mar hangs up. A Fodder droid approaches her.)

Fodder Droid 3: Mistress our forces have deployed and we await your orders.

Lith'mar: Find Pala Di-In and his companions.

Fodder Droid 3: Okay… what does he look like?

Lith'mar: He'll be the big decrypted yellow one… (She whips out her plasma sword in a random display of anger.) WITH A LIGHT BLADE!

Fodder Droid 3: Oh… that makes sense, what do we do with anyone who's with him?

Lith'mar: What do you think?

Fodder Droid 3: Um… I was thinking maybe we could capture them for some sort of project Bob has been talking about recently. From someone named Dr. Husk. Something about a ray that can turn organic life forms into droids. There may be a promotion or a large financial reward if we do so.

Lith'mar: Really? I was just going to tell you to just kill him but that could work as well.

(Meanwhile deep within the coral forests Di-In, Aloo and company are hiding from a WOK droid patrol.)

Ben: Sir they've got tanks!

Di-In: Well "tanks" for pointing out the obvious once again!

Aloo: Master are these bad puns going to be a recurring thing with you?

Di-In: Only if something corny comes to mind.

Aloo: (Sarcastically.) Very funny master.

(Three WOK tank approaches them and a droid pops out of one.)

Droid tank driver 1: You know you really shouldn't talk out loud like that, we may be stupid but we aren't deaf.

Ben: INTO THE FORESTS!

(The tanks follows them into the forest and fires at them randomly. But then they come to a dead end were the tanks can't go through.)

Droid tank driver 1: Were too big to fit in there.

Droid tank driver 2: No were not, look. (He drives his tank at high speed into the brush, but he flies out of his tank.) Okay so I was wrong!

Droid tank driver 1: Why do I even bother giving orders if no one listens to me? Might as well let everyone have free reign to go on a chaotic rampage!

(Di-In and friends are in an open clearing.)

Ben: I think we lost them, (A WOK patrol ambushes them from behind.) then again. (They starts running, Ben is injured in the legs by a plasma rocket fired by one of the droids.)

Aloo: BEN! (She runs out to drag him behind some cover, but her left eye is shot by a lucky blaster shot.) TURVACK!

Di-In: Okay people, I'm going to try something crazy but it just might work!

Aloo: (She's nursing her blaster wound.) Just do it quick, I think I may need a new eye because of that shot!

(Di-In uses the Essence to lift a random droid from the platoon, and then shifts it's position backwards to fire at the rest of them.)

Super Fodder Droid 1: Stop shooting at me friends! (He is lowered and is then shot down by the other droids.)

Di-In: Regroup and get to some shelter! We'll rest for the night.

(Six hours later on the planet Soma, Tsaritsyn has just arrived at the safe house that he will be sharing with four currently unnamed agents who are unlikely to be anonymous for very long.)

Tsaritsyn: Well here I am at my little home away from home… and talking to myself like a chump. I wonder who else I might encounter on this faux exchange student program? Perhaps my old friends from Tier-1 through Tier-6, Rahpo Ein-he'rjar R'lyeh and Ocihc Muloc-Sbu who are respectively in the order that I presented their names, a Njord and a Quetzal?

(Two people enter the room wearing very poor disguises that are basically bad masks with beards, the one the right pulls down his mask to reveal that he is Ocihc as just mentioned, and the one on the left turns around to reveal that he is Rahpo as also mentioned before.)

Ocihc: (He has a mild Italian accent.) Hey-a a look-a Rahpo, it's-a Tsaritsyn!

Tsaritsyn: It's a small universe after all… I wish it were bigger.

Ocihc: Oh come on-a, your just a-saying that because I a-used to keep-a pictures of you're a-sister in her a-swim suits.

Tsaritsyn: Not really, but she did feel cosseted and started complaining to me about her weight because of that stint you pulled. Rahpo how has my favorite silent partner been doing?

Rahpo: (He purrs while snuggling Tsaritsyn's face.)

Tsaritsyn: Are you that happy to see me or do you have a happy cat in your gullet?

Ocihc: Don't be a-silly, what-a cat-a would a-want to be-a in his a-belly?

Tsaritsyn: If I had to guess he invited it to dinner, and the cat was the main course.

Rahpo: (He writes on a holographic white board.) You know I'm shtanding right here?

Tsaritsyn: Yes but you misspelled standing you mute mollusk. My advice? Stick to the pantomime. Just keep the pants on the mime and you should do fine, and use that hammer belt to pull out random items that somehow get in there.

(Zaar and Andúril enter the room suddenly.)

Zaar: Do you have to wear those stupid masks everywhere you two go?

Andúril: What the! Son what are you doing here?

Tsaritsyn: I got roped into a highly improbable plan by that guy who runs T.E.A.R. for some reason. Why and how an answering room was able to organize a fake exchange student program between Somite Theocracy and the Orion Federation is a mystery.

Andúril: (Angrily.) That irresponsible son of a banshee Armss'rej! Look I'll let you tag along just don't get hurt.

Tsaritsyn: That might actually be a hard promise to keep. I might peeve someone important and… well you know how people are on this rock, (Concerned.) and Iam knows what kinds of monster they sent in my place.

Andúril: WHAT!

Tsaritsyn: No monster is kind of an extreme word. I think I meant to say weirdo but I forget what I was going to say anyway.

Ocihc: Look at-a the bright-a side-a! We-a could have-a been assigned to Uranium! (He laughs.)

Andúril: That gross joke wasn't funny in my youth and it isn't now!

(Meanwhile at the Simpson's, which is now Mr. Burns's old mansion. The Simpson's and the Thel's are having dinner with their guest. Mary-Sue Venus Shadowfax Freya Isis Honolulu Nymph Angels-Whom Valkyrie Poinsettia Rose-Thorn Lothlorian Morgan Leliana Horse-Mane Lotus Sun-Tear Rosetta Sirens-Anthem Lilith Pointless-but-funny-Twilight-bashing Pandora.)

(WARNING: The following is a detailed description of a parody of the Mary Sue archetype character created for the authors (In other words, me Darth Sith'ari.) sick personal amusement. For those of you with weak constitutions or have a white hot hatred of Mary Sue's in general, please skip ahead to beyond the following paragraph. However it is very informative and has few cheap laughs at said characters expense, in short: READ ON AT YOUR OWN PERIL! P.S. She is not a robot in anyway whatsoever despite her unrealistic personality or appearance.)

(The young fifteen-year old Mary-Sue sat at the antique wooden table with perfect posture and perfect manners and rather tall for her age which made her look slightly older and also more beautiful, with her unblemished skin that was as white as fresh snow, and a skirt, pumps, overcoat and top which were the exact same color and as soft as a rabbits fur. (Which is somewhat contradictory since almost everyone in the Simpson's universe is yellow.) Her lips were as red as the blood of men, which also gave them the unsettling impression that it WAS the blood of men on her lips, and hair which was as black as the void in-between worlds or a starless night whichever way you look at it and it was in a perfect twisted spine, which is like a pony tail except it goes down to the ankles. Also her eyes were as green as wild spring grass on a Sunday afternoon after a violent storm. As of this moment she is describing her tragic, sad and depressing past in detail in her more than perfect voice that sounds like the chirping of new born baby birds on a spring morning and… consequently boring everyone to tears.)

Mary-Sue: (Overly dramatic.) And that is how I have twenty-one last names, all of whom, but the twenty-first died in tragic accidents, (She starts to cry like a crystal clear waterfall overflowing after a violent storm. I don't like this character either but she threatened to sue me if I didn't describe everything she does in detail. That's actually a pretty funny pun if you think about it.) That I can't help but feel responsible for. (She notices everyone has fallen asleep.) Um, hello? HEY!

(She snaps her fingers which sound like a crack of thunder on a stormy night and everyone wakes up startled and starts to run around randomly yelling. "I'M AWAKE! I'M AWAKE!")

Knara: WHAT THE FRELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR!

Aon: Knara watch your language.

Knara: (Groans.) Why did you that?

Mary-Sue: Look Marge asked me why I have such a long name the least I can do is tell EVERYONE about it.

Lisa: Why not just tell us individually?

Knara: Best idea I heard all night.

Mary-Sue: Yes but this is the most effective way for everyone to hear my tale of tragedy and mostly tragedy to triumph in one go.

Knara: My advice, practice telling it in the mirror like the rest of you Somite ego-maniacs.

Mary-Sue: (She emit's a gasp that sounds like a maiden accepting a proposal of marriage. But in this case however she's offended so that's just about the opposite.) How rude! You have no right to talk to me like that you insolent peasant!

Knara: This is Earth, you can tell the President herself that she doesn't take her job as seriously as she should be, and she'll take the comment personally. But the worst she can do is have you thrown out of the White House head first onto the lawn and banned for life from the tour.

Marge: Why are you so obsessed with telling that story of our last trip to Washington D.C.?

Knara: We didn't get far enough into it to get to the war room! I always wanted to see how that thing worked and Homer just had to insult the President.

Mary-Sue: Either way I am taking my dinner to my room. I will not eat with someone so disrespectful to my horribly traumatic past! (She walks up to her room with the grace and posture of a professional figure skaterm or dancer take your pick, with her dinner.)

Knara: Just don't change Tsaritsyn's room. He just got the floor smelling the way he wanted them to last week.

Marge: Honestly do you have to be so rude to her?

Knara: Don't tell me you actually listened or for that matter believed that sap story.

Marge: Actually I did fall asleep when she got to the end of her story. But she's a tormented soul!

Knara: Marge, get this through your big blue beehive of hair. Nearly everyone in this day and age is mostly angst ridden or in an extremely bad mood at almost all times. Seraph for instance was almost certainly just a few bad days away from going on a large scale killing spree. As far as I know she just made up that tripe just to sound interesting to compensate for no real personality what so ever. Besides no one can lose twenty families in two years and come out mildly sane, no wrinkles from stress or for that matter even want to talk about it in the first place.

Marge: That's it young lady! Go to your room until you learn some manners!

Aon: Marge she's my daughter it's my say as to what she does, not yours! Besides I agree with her, there's just something about her that seems… unnatural for some reasons that I can't quite put my talon on.

Marge: I'll go up and talk to her. (She goes up stairs after Mary-Sue.)

Lisa: "Insolent peasant?" and she said you were rude.

Knara: Exactly, that's your average Somite for you. Plus judging by her attitude, behavior, unnatural appearance, and a complete and utter disrespect for other people's feelings. I'd she's an Echelon-class Alpha-1 custom series.

Lisa: Wait you mean there robots?

Knara: Not really, but they are genetically tailored from birth to be, "perfect in every possible way." From the looks of her, her first family pulled out all of the stops on her am I right Bart? Bart? (She notices Bart is staring into blank space.) BART! (She punches him in the shoulder.)

Bart: OUCH! What was that for?

Knara: You were undressing her with your eyes weren't you?

Bart: (Bashfully.) Umm… which answer won't have you punching me?

(Knara gives him a right hook.)

Knara: Not that one. (She has a dead serious look on her face.) Here's a deal Bart, I'll give you three chances not to cheat on me with that self-righteous wench. On the first try I'll bind and gag you and force you to listen to my own life story until you break down into tears. Second strike I'll force you to eat something brazenly disgusting, and assuming you go far enough into a third strike… well, (She pulls out a pistol.) let's just say this will be involved… just as soon as I figure out how to use this stupid silencer mod works. I mean for some reason there making them with an inverted Y-axis were you have to turn the dial UP in order to silence the shot, instead of down which makes more sense because that's how volume control typically works right? Well I'm going down to the holodeck, and try to get that banshees voice out of my head, and because that story made me lose my appetite. Not that Marge's cooking would make any difference mind you.

(She leaves the dining room.)

Bart: Aon did you listen to anything Knara just said?

Aon: Hmm what? (She snaps back to attention.) Oh sorry I wasn't paying attention. I was distracted by the texture of this dinner; how she or anyone can burn soup is something I just don't want to know.

Lisa: Bart I think that maybe Knara was serous.

Bart: What? About me going out with Mary-Sue, or Somites in general?

Lisa: Both, also and your free to call me crazy for saying this. I think Knara is jealous of her.

Bart: I wonder how Tsaritsyn is doing.

Lisa: What does he have to do with anything?

Bart: Just curious you know?

(Meanwhile on… Asogur… almost got you there didn't I? Anyway Di-In, Aloo and the Clone marine squad are inside of a cave, Di-In is tending to Aloo's wound by placing a bandage over her charred eye socket, Ben is nursing his leg wound, and Privites Prince and Katar aren't nursing anything unless you count reviewing what supplies they have left as nursing. If that is the case then Prince and Katar are nursing whatever is left of their supplies.)

Katar: What do we have left?

Prince: Two grenades and one rocket for the launcher.

Katar: Against a battalion? Forget it, we are so, Scrined!

Di-In: Funny I could have sworn you were ready you go into battle guns blazing just this morning. (Aloo squeals in pain.) Oh sorry dear.

Katar: Yes but after twelve hours of going on the run from droids A Gatling gun doesn't look like that practical a weapon .

Di-In: Perhaps, (He takes Captain Ben's rifle.) but then again I've been a warrior all my life, facing impossible odds and frequently taunting death by the seat of my pants.

Ben: Is this going somewhere?

Di-In: Yes. (He proceeds to make Ben's rifle into a crutch.) Take of your helmets for a moment. (Ben, Prince and Katar take of their helmets to show…. OKAY THAT'S SO JUST WRONG! How does anyone survive with that many scars on the face, it looks hideous! And two of those guys are Privets to there to inexperienced to get any scars! Anyway Aloo screams) On second thought put them back on.

(They thankfully put their helmets back on.)

Ben: There wouldn't have been much to see anyway, we all have the same face.

Di-In: True, but your all different on the inside. Ben, you have a crippling nut allergy, a collection of ancient WWII era German rifles and a tatoo on your back that says, "Remember the Ashla. Death to Esar! The delusional murdering blag'fader of Soma!" Prince, you have a very bad habit of taking over your Captains duty to pointing out the obvious but a very good shot with heavy ordinance, and Katar. You harbor romantic feelings for Aloo because she gave you some pudding and a big warm hug on the way here, because you lost your pension gambling on Pazack during your last shore leave.

Katar: What the! How did you know all that anyway?

Di-In: We spent nine hours in a spaceship; you people aren't very good at keeping secrets. (He gives the makeshift crutch to Ben.)

Aloo: You like me Katar?

Katar: (Nervously.) Well… umm… yes, I mean… I'm no expert on much but.

Aloo: Yes?

Katar: You look hot despite just one eye! (He makes out with her.)

Aloo: I didn't think you cared.

Di-In: (Snorts.) Only one month of freedom and she's already got a lover. Most ex-slaves your age take almost a decade or longer.

(Meanwhile onboard Stan's flagship, the Desert Angel, a not to subtle reference to his secret marriage. Stan Tartarus and his Novus Seraph Ashla are tinkering with the freighter they took on Htet.)

Stan: How is everything down there?

Seraph: (She's straining.) The engines are clogged with sand.

Stan: Now do you know why I hate sand? It gets into everything and it's impossible to get rid of.

Seraph: (She gets a crowbar and tries to pull off a panel.) I get your point. (She pulls off the panel and sand falls out all over her.) Believe me I understand you completely.

(A shuttle lands in the hanger, Lieutenant Tyler, Minerva, Homer and Grunchy leave said shuttle.)

Homer: Wait why are we here? From what you told me on the way here this isn't even a Federation ship!

Tyler: I promised Stan that I would help him repair that ship we found on Htet.

Homer: But that thing was a pile of twisted and melted metal, what good would working on that thing do anyway?

Minerva: Stan won an arm-wrestling contest against him.

Tyler: I thought we agreed you wouldn't tell anyone?

Seraph: Stan I'm not kidding you, there are crates filled with fruitcake. Why anyone would smuggle fruitcake is anyone's guess.

(She pulls her head to notice Homer smiling; she then throws a fruitcake at him.)

Homer: OUCH! Why does everyone throw fruitcake at me!

Seraph: It's the only practical use for it. Besides, Tyler didn't mention bringing you along.

Homer: What do you have against Grunchy?

Seraph: I have nothing against the Dadaban. YOU on the other hand have this disturbing obsession with stalking me and telling Marge everything that's happened to me over the past three hours in-between calls.

Homer: Ah huh, and your problem with me what? (She throws another fruitcake at him.)

(Everyone in the hanger starts to burst out laughing.)

Tyler: This is the best fun I've had since basic training!

Homer: (He pulls out his assault rifle.) Shut up! (It blows up instead of firing at everyone, and everyone just laughs harder.) It's not that funny!

Seraph: (She pulls out a pair of broken wires.) Your right it's not. (She connects the wires and the engines ignite, burning Homer and he runs around screaming. Everyone laughs even harder.) That on the other hand is a running riot.

(Homer dowses the flames and lies down on the floor writhing in pain, Stan exit's the ship.)

Stan: Tano I have no idea what you did but the engines are in full working order. (He notices a charred Homer on the hanger bay floor.) What happened to him?

Seraph: Couldn't take a joke. Now then are we ready for that search and rescue mission?

Stan: Yes, the weapons still need some work, but we probably won't need them anyway.

Minerva: Wait so we aren't going to fix the ship?

Stan: No, but you can still do something fun. You work communications, Tyler and Grunchy will monitor scanners.

(Everyone but Homer and Seraph enters the ship.)

Homer: (He gets up still recoiling from the pain.) Well what am I supposed to do? (Seraph throws a wet rag at him.) What you ran out of fruitcake already? (She throws another fruitcake at him.)

Seraph: That answers your question?

Homer: No! Now what am I supposed to do? (She then throws a bucket, a sponge, windex, a dry cloth, and a breath mask.) This answers nothing!

Seraph: I have to spell it out don't I? (Homer nods.) It's pretty simple, you wash the ship DURING the mission!

Homer: Isn't that dangerous? Besides I don't clean cars. I make them into a big mess.

Seraph: Don't be silly, it's only dangerous WITHOUT the breath mask, or if you get hit by space debris. Whichever one comes first. But if you don't want to come I can understand, besides I'm sure Marge will be more then understanding if you come back empty handed with no money after coming at least a hundred-and-fifty light-years. In other words you're not going anywhere or getting paid unless you're willing to clean up this ship during the mission.

Homer: (He's grumbling.) Fine, just tell me where.

Seraph: THE HULL YOU IDIOT! THE HULL! Why do you think I gave you the breath mask?