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Oh, and of course, a dozen or so mechanical chickens.
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And ... as night began falling ...
[dave] I didn't drop it! It was Deb's fault! (smack!) Ow!
... and the slavering group of morons, errr, gallant crew marched on, trailed by their newly reconstituted captain
... no one noticed the small mechanical chickens' eyes begin to glow in a sickly lurid red light that could only mean ---
... freed from the garlicky whiskey fumes (damn you Am - you'll be the first to be assimilated) ... (KK next!)
...the Borg Chicken drones were reawakening to their vampiric programming ...
Could the fate of our feckless heros lie with pshrynk? Did he leave a wee dram o'spirits in the liquor cabinet to combat this fearsome feathery menace? Or would GeoffC's herbal cooking skills save the day -- and the crew?
Can the fearless, but hungry, female bodyguards handle this fowl challenge to their beloved, but confusing, captain?
And where is WDE the wonder pup?