Who’s that little guy coming at us wearing the spittoon on his head? And what’s that in his hand? Oh, my God, it’s a disintegrating…
sizzle
“Damn! What the fuck did I just step in?”
“Um, Houston. This is Olympus. Seems we’ve landed 4,734 nautical miles from our target destination. Commander Tiggs set us down on Phobos due to Space Madness, ranting something about how he’s the Keeper of the Cheese, then went out the airlock without his suit. We await your response. Over.”
Kane, what’s the hell is that thing wrapped around your face? Stay here, I’ll go tell Mother.