Quote:
Originally Posted by dsvick
My head hurts, I think I need mouth to mouth... Deb?!? ..... KK....?!?! Help a fellow crew-person out .....
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WD(E), MAN DOWN! Can you do a quick snout-to-mouth for DS?
Whatever else happens, keep him conscious. He has his thumb on the red-button-pushy-thing, and I've seen those in movies... thumb comes off and everything goes boom.
Meanwhile,
We're kind of earth-bound for the time being.
I'll try to negotiate w/ the neanderthal farmer.
I'm a little concerned with the current status...
The lower vertical aileron is embedded quite soundly in the ground. The sound was something like -- "CRUNCH!".
The engines have gone from the reassuring "pockita-pockita-pockita-pockita" to an unnerving "pockiCHUNK-squeal-pocki-pocki-pocki-squeal-pock-pock-kerchunk-hiss...."
There's a greenish glow to the air -- I think we've ruptured a tank, and our only doctor is a bartender.
My martini hand is currently empty.
The lights are on, but no one's home. Everybody is outside alternately glaring at the giant (much more docile while looking into the darkness inside of a .50 rifle) and staring at the crumpled metal buried into the dirt. Oh wait, there is ONE person home... pshrynk is still polishing the bar, and not serving martinis.
Deb is terrorizing the giant. He is evidently not familiar with something so tiny being so ... vicious? Little does he know... She's using the down time for practice, she's learned to throw him pretty far -- an excerise which fills him with fear and dread, but he's afraid to do much other then close his eyes and stand stiffly, with a quiet whine escaping his mouth.
Dsvick wants to use a "controlled explosion" to free the vessel. The words "controlled" and "explosion" being used in the same phrase makes me wonder about his sanity.