Screw the Universe (22 page)

“No,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul, “we were just getting to that.”

“Can I tell him?”

“Sure.”

“What the hell happened to me, guys?” asked a panicked, yet excited, Captain Tyler.

“You were plowed,” said Dr. Sodomy. “Anally. By a tiger.”

“A Plutonian Snow Tiger, actually,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul. “You’re carrying its babies now.”

“What?” said Captain Tyler.

“Oh, I didn’t know that part,” said Dr. Sodomy.

“Bahahahahahahaha,” said the computer.

“It’s a quirk of the Plutonian Snow Tiger physiology. They can impregnate anything and everything. Why do you think we suddenly had that influx of tiny couches in the lounge?”

“I thought we just picked up a lot of midgets,” said Captain Tyler.

“God, you’re stupid,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul.

“Bahahahahahahaha,” continued the computer.

The Zdravo slowly approached Onvindbaar Bol, a mostly unexplored planet. The crew had received a distress signal from the surface and radioed back. Something about a water shortage, everyone dying, nothing to eat but whole wheat crackers. Or something. Nobody was really paying attention.

The voice from the planet sounded feminine enough, though, so plans were made to land. Captain Tyler was still deadset on his mission. He was going to knock up something on this wasteland, God damn it. Even if he had to give birth to one of his own Plutonian Snow Tiger cubs and then shove it into a womb. Something was gonna pop something out.

“So where is this future mother of my children?” asked Captain Tyler, standing planetside and taking a bite of his Viagraburger – a burger made out of several thousand tiny blue pills, crushed into a fine paste and then grilled. It was the only thing that made his salami stand at attention now.

“According to the scanners, right over that ridge,” said Private Morgan Crimsonshirt.

“The ridge that looks like the spiky-toothed bottom jaw of something obscenely large and flesh-eating?”

“That’s the one.”

“You go first.”

“No. I’m good.”

“I don’t think you are,” said Captain Tyler, pulling a shiv from the elastic waistband of his maternity battle shorts. “And take the damn tiger with you.”

Private Crimsonshirt sighed and he and the Plutonian Snow Tiger made their way across the surface of the planet, the captain trailing behind them. They reached the ridge in a matter of minutes.

“Go on,” said Captain Tyler, waving Private Crimsonshirt on with his sharpened lunch tray.

“Fine,” mumbled the private, adding, “Dick,” under his breath.

“I heard that.”

Captain Tyler went to put the shiv away, missed, and sliced a nine-inch gash into his thigh. The tiger, smelling fresh blood, instantly darted off towards the commanding officer. Private Crimsonshirt was knocked backward by the cat and onto the pointy ridge, landing on a surprisingly cushy spike not actually like a tooth at all.

The tiger also landed on something soft – Captain Tyler’s new salami member – and promptly ate it. This shock to Captain Tyler’s system caused him to go into labor.

“That... that’s a weird feeling,” said the captain. “Private! Get me a bucket, I don’t feel so –”

Three dozen baby Plutonian Snow Tigers burst from Captain Tyler’s chest.

“Holy nuts,” said the private.

It was at this point that the entire surface of the planet began moving. The cushy spike Private Crimsonshirt had landed on revealed itself to be some kind of a bear. Triangular shaped, sure, but furry and otherwise bear-like in its physiology. And, like any bear, it ran for the fucking hills when the ground started quaking.

“Nuuuuuuts,” continued the private, trying to maintain his balance.

The private fell against another protrusion on the pointy ridge, this one harder and quite remarkably tooth-like. He looked up and saw a sky full of these tooth-like protrusions falling down upon him.

“Oh, motherfucking nuts...”

The planet was apparently not a planet at all, but, rather, a planet-sized creature. With bears on it. A planet-sized creature with bears living on it capable of opening its planet-sized mouth one hundred and eighty degrees into a flat line and then closing it again when it got hungry.

“MOTHERFUCKING NUTS!” shouted Private Crimsonshirt as he and the Plutonian Snow Tiger ran past the captain en route to the Zdravo.

Sensing the impending doom, the tiger cubs banded together to save their mother. They bit into the fleshy areas of Captain Tyler and dragged him back to the ship, gaping chest wound be damned. They made their way up the entry ramp just as it closed and the Zdravo took off.

Back on board and a safe distance away from the planet-sized mouth, Dr. Porniviriyakul, Dr. Sodomy and First Lieutenant Duknerts looked over the once again lifeless body of their captain.

“Hot damn,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul. “He’s really gone and fucked himself up this time.”

“I don’t think we have the materials to save him again,” said Dr. Sodomy.

“You’re just going to let him die?” questioned the first lieutenant.

The two doctors looked at each other and shrugged, Dr. Porniviriyakul saying, “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Getting new parts would be really expensive,” explained Dr. Sodomy. “We’d probably need some sort of grant and I hate writing them up.”

“So this is it?” asked the first lieutenant.

“Looks to be,” said the vet.

“What if we just put an old motor where his heart used to be?” asked Dr. Sodomy.

“That still leaves no lungs,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul.

“Balloons.”

“Condoms would be more fitting,” said First Lieutenant Duknerts.

“They would be...”

“We’re all out, remember?” said Dr. Porniviriyakul. “We lost them when he flushed that dockworker...”

“The dockworker!” said Dr. Sodomy.

“Computer,” shouted Dr. Porniviriyakul.

“Yes, Siriporn?”

“We need to find Johnson’s body. Can you scan all of space?”

“All of space?”

“Yes.”

“All of it.”

“Yes.”

“Uh…” said the computer, followed by a strange popping sound over the PA system.

“What’s wrong?” said First Lieutenant Duknerts, looking around at the ceiling and walls.

“Why isn’t the ship moving?” asked Dr. Sodomy.

“We should probably have a seat,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul. “I think I broke the computer.”

“I didn’t break,” said the computer, “I just had another call.”

“What?”

“What? I’m not allowed to have a life? It was my boyfriend, Shit-Kicker. He’s a warship in the Federation. He was only in range for a couple minutes so I had to take it.”

“That doesn’t seem like the correct sense of priorities,” said First Lieutenant Duknerts.

“Right, ‘cause scanning all of space for a single corpse is a professional use of my talents.”

“But we need it.”

“For science,” added Dr. Porniviriyakul.

“Oh, well in that case...” said the computer. If she had eyes, she would have rolled them.

Private Redshirt and First Lieutenant Duknerts played cards in the common room while they waited for the computer to find Senior Dockworker Johnson. They didn’t have any money so they were forced – on Captain Tyler’s standing orders – to play strip Go Fish. Duknerts was down to his underwear.

“Wow,” said the private. “You really suck at this.”

“I told you I don’t know much about fish.”

“Not really crucial to the game.”

“Oh. So we’re not actually trading cards for fish?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

Private Redshirt waited a few moments before saying, “I really don’t know what I was supposed to have seen in you.”

“I’m sure you just succumbed to my winning personality.”

“No, I doubt that was it...”

“Then it was probably my enormous cock.”

The private turned her head to look up Duknerts’s boxers and at the other privates in the room.

“Now that you mention it...”

“Nice job, Private,” said Dr. Sodomy, walking into the common room. “Got Duknerts almost down to his nuts. Anyway, come on. The computer’s found something.”

First Lieutenant Duknerts started gathering his clothes.

“Not so fast,” said the computer, swiveling the Emergency Inside Laser toward him. “You lost. You know the rules. You gotta spend the rest of the day in nothing but your briefs.”

“You’re joking,” said Duknerts.

The EIL glowed red.

“I’m really not.”

“God, I love this place,” said Private Redshirt.

“This is such a fucked up ship,” added the first lieutenant.

Private Darkpinkshirt wheeled Senior Dockworker Johnson’s frozen corpse into Dr. Porniviriyakul’s lab. The body looked like a bloated ice pop with freezer burn. The Plutonian Snow Tigers licked at its feet.

“Huh,” said the veterinarian. “He’s in better shape than I thought he’d be.”

“Yeah,” said Dr. Sodomy. “Makes our job easier.”

“Indeed.”

“Taking Johnson’s guts and putting them into Captain Tyler?” asked First Lieutenant Duknerts.

“No,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul. “Taking what’s left of Tyler’s guts and putting them into Johnson.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you drunk again?”

“Maybe. But I’m still a doctor, dammit.”

“You’re a veterinarian.”

“It’s a kind of doctor!”

“I don’t see what the problem is,” said Private Darkpinkshirt. “Everything, literally everything, would be better off if we leave him dead and save Johnson. I’ve seen what he does on Facebook... So many skanks... It’s... It’s not pleasant.”

“I think you misunderstood,” said Dr. Sodomy. “Tyler’s not staying dead. Well, not entirely dead. We’re going to combine him with Johnson.”

“But Johnson hated Tyler...” said First Lieutenant Duknerts.