“It’s not your word that is the problem, Sir.” “No?” “No. You may have good intentions, but, I know you. You are a trouble magnet.”
“We need to be sure we don’t leave anything behind. Anyone got an idea?” Desai’s face lit up with a smile. “That’s easy, Sir. If we have to bug out, I say we nuke the site from orbit.” She winked at me. “It’s the only way to be sure.”
“Oh. Wow. Thank you, Joe. You are a good friend.” “I am a filthy, ignorant monkey, Skippy, but I do my best.”
Maybe my superpower, if I had one, was being too dumb to know what questions not to ask.
There’s the Liatorp, the Brusali, the Advala-” “Joe you idiot!” He jumped up and down on the desk, waving his arms frantically. “Don’t you know that if you recite the Ikea catalog in the wrong order, you could accidentally summon a demon?” “Really?” I gasped, shocked. Although truthfully, a part of my brain was thinking ‘how cool would that be’?
“A subspace rip?” His mouth gaped open. “What do you think this is, Star Trek? There are no natural disasters that happen to Maxolhx starships, you moron. They’ve been around long enough to know everything that is in deep interstellar space, which by the way, is nothing.
The more Skippy told me about that Admiral Tashallo guy, the more I wanted to meet him. Of course, I could not meet him without blowing the secret that monkeys were joy-riding around the galaxy in a stolen starship, causing havoc.
Which reminds me, I need to get T-shirts made for our ‘Sometimes It’s FUN To Be An Asshole’ tour.
“Ah. Hmm. Being a monkey must be super complicated.”
You’re sure there isn’t a team of kitty commandos hidden in a stealthed armory, where your scans can’t penetrate.” “I am sure, dumdum.
“Joe, that AI hates you with a passion that is frightening. It hates you specifically. That AI has an entire submind devoted to fantasizing about horribly painful ways to kill you, very slowly. Hee hee,”