In an infinite universe of infinite probabilities, even the really, really unlikely, is happening, somewhere. This, was one of those statistical improbabilities that 12% of stacticians would give up their left nut, just to document. (8% would give their right. 1% would be indifferent).
What made this particular statistical improbability all the more nut-worthy than any other, was that, while this seemingly implausible event occurred, another seemingly implausible event occurred with it. Added on top of that, was a unique (and that’s saying something, in an infinite universe) mineral, which hadn’t been discovered or named yet, that was passing by the two ships, in the form of a comet… And the fact that this unique mineral bent the variable of time & probability so as to make them go as curvy and random as a schizophrenic plus sized model… Well, it was downright statistically impressive, it was.
The following events occurred… But thanks to the comet, in the following order:
`’, ,’`’, .’.’`’. ,’`’.
`’ ` `’
Wally screamed as Amber clutched his giant genitals through his pants, her well manicured nails digging painfully into areas they really shouldn’t. She then flew up into the air, as though Wally’s testis had somehow blown at her with a gale force wind. Nothing however, could dislodge her nails now, save outright castration. Wally grimaced, screamed, and squealed as he too, was forced to hold on to something (in this case, the well-shielded coffee machine).
Splatch, tumbling through the air like a nightmarish breast-augmentation, hit the underside of the table with a resounding… well, splatch, actually. His gelatinous body neatly acting as a form of sealant, stopping the depressurization of the ship almost enough so as to not make Groink fly into him hat-(for lack of a better word)-first; almost.
The Table-Embedded-Minion flew into the hole, but the table itself, ironically, wasn’t quite small enough to make it through the terrorist-sized gap. The minion, however, was on the outside of the hull, being pulled by the relatively strong tug of interstellar gravity.
Minions 1 & 2 flew out into space
Splatch, Groink, the table-embedded minion, the non-table embedded but conscious minion, and the non-table-embedded AND conscious minion, all flew towards the void.
Table-Minion realized that, in a really weird way, he was getting his secret wish of always having wanted to be taller. (But not being able to breathe really put a damper on the moment.)
Brap fired.
Fred exploded.
Minions 1 & 2 looked into each other’s eyes, each of them wanting to say feelings they’d never felt comfortable expressing, yet lacking the atmosphere to do so.
Fred ran smack into the still-blast-shielded-airlock, knocking himself unconscious.
Amber adjusted her makeup with her compact.
Unfortunately for Fred, the computer had realized Steve’s original comment, and adjusted itself accordingly, so as to avoid unnecessary mix-ups in the future. This caused the ship’s NT-Zap shields to lower, but the airlock that Fred was headed towards, to remain tightly closed.
Brap charged his laser cannons for one large, multifaceted quad-blast, capable of piercing the thieves’ shields, and, with accuracy, their engines, shield generator, communications array (just to be sure) and computer.
Amber noticed that all this falling around was playing mayhem on her hair and makeup.
Fred realized that the reason he was petrified, had to do with power. He no longer had the power! He would fix that. Setting his explosive vest on a timer, he yelled into the air, “Computer! Shields down!” in an effort to lower the blast shields around the computer, coffee machine, and, his destination, the airlock.
The ship’s hull, breached by the explosion, began venting all of its easily ventable contents, including Amber’s compact, of which, she’d chosen to abandon in favor of holding on to something… sturdy. The compact, odds defiantly, flew exactly into the path that was to be filled with a laser, in about a second and a half. (Sort of.)
Fred realized he was petrified. Which was odd, he figured, considering how eager he always was to blow himself up; why then, was he so terrified at the prospect of being blown up by another?
Minions 1 & 2, in a really weird way, got their secret desires fulfilled, as their bodies became one in a rather messy implosion.
Brap’s blast ricocheted odds-defiantly back off the afore(sort of)mentioned compact, and, again, quite unexpectedly, managed to blast Brap’s own communications array, coffee machine, life support system, and donut replicator, all to smithereens, and smithereen-shaped particles.
`’, ,’`’, .’.’`’. ,’`’.
`’ ` `’
The comet passed. Splatch grunted and groaned as his coagulative body (and a table half-merged with the fellow in the red shirt) withstood the rather insistent and unrelenting, rarely pleasurable, suction of space.
Brap looked around, noticed that quite the opposite of his intentions had occurred, and furthermore, his recently acquired Galacticop-Space-Cruiser had recently acquired some rather large holes, and its oxygen supply seemed to be abandoning ship (along with his coffee machine’s former contents) before anything worse could happen. The only upside being, that Mr. Sploosh couldn’t yell at him for a while, thanks to the obviously broken com-system.
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