Quote:
Originally Posted by poohbear_nc
Psssst ... dave ... come here .... dave ....
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[dave] Where? Let me through you blasted poultry-bots!
...you need to bend ofer and look through this peep-hole dave...
[dave] OK - why is the peep-hole so close to the ground? I have to get down on my hands and knees ... and
AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
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Wait... why is this looking more like a scene from "Deliverance?"
"diddle-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee..."
Come on! Deliverance was Georgia -- this is Virginia.
Dagnabit in-bred chickens...
That's what we need! Breading! And a huge fire, to take the place of the plasma jets.
Hang on Dave, we're gonna reduce those damnable chickens to alarm clocks.
Clovis, get that ol' weed burner and fill it with some 'shine, we're gonna have to exterminate before we go rescue Tiny.
Plan? Who the hell said we have a plan? I have a scheme to capture / schwindle some Atzec gold, oggle the female crew members. (totally different than oggling the crew's members), mate with some native virgins, become Monarch of Lemuria (hey, look at me, I'm King o' the Monkeys!).
You think I PLANNED this?
Piloting a stolen dirigible across un-charted space (and time),
smuggling probably-stolen organs,
trying to run things using a SOP manual written in 27 languages (and a few alien hieroglyphics) with only Rosetta Stone disks to help me translate,
stuck ass-first in a farmer's field, miles from civilization,
low on supplies, chocolate, whiskey, and coffee cream,
battling cyborg chickens which don't know long-pig from lamb -- and won't eat their alarms clocks like good chickens,
teaming up with a crazy half-mutant back-woods moon-shiner,
on my way to bust a condemned man I don't even know out of a rinky-dink jail in some urban backwater,
hiking down dirt roads trying to find said rinky-dink jail,
and using poison ivey after a slit trench because we forgot to find a Sears-Roebuck catalog?
Does THAT sound like a plan to YOU, bucky?
Darn-tootin'! Ah... I love it when a plan comes together.