And this would be punishment how???
No matter, I don’t have any rabbits in my act anyways.
Cool! Mountain Dew all around then. I’ll get the glasses.
k3wl! 
(Just one thing…how well does the Fleet Admiral know the works of Coltrane? I may have to study up.)
Hey! Don’t you think that’s the sort of thing the cruise director should deal with? Or if it isn’t, could it be? Because that sounds like fun…errr…I mean like a responsibility I would be willing to take on…Just send the miscreatents to the Ledo Deck…
That said though, Mountain Dew??? There are some thing even* I * wouldn’t put in my mouth.
For Thespos read “mountain dew.”
:smack:
Ahem. If you’re looking for someone willing to engage in acts of pure, uncompromising, unblinking, unlimited, unspeakable evil…
I am a lawyer, y’know.
I already have somebody willing to engage in acts of pure, uncompromising, unblinking, unlimited, unspeakable evil. His initials are F.C. and he sleeps in the captain’s cabin.
Anything else?
You have to sleep sometime. I can take a watch. 
And unlike some of these others, I will give you my undivided loyalty. I will not try to wrest control from you – unlike some of the others who are trying to weasel their way on board, who are already plotting against you behind your back. (You know who you are.) Were I given a berth, I’d be your loyal lieutenant, and I would take them out. But only on your orders.
Other than that, let’s see – skills, skills…
I make the best potato skin appetizers. My chili is good but some people complain it is too hot. They are wimps. I don’t drink Southern Comfort (more for you), but make a mean martini and a flat-on-your-ass margarita. I can braid hair, I sing off-key but loud (intimidates others, don’t y’know), I can imitate any accent, and I know the secret to eternal life. Oh, and I can outlast anyone in a staring contest. Anyone.
You’re in, solong as you can provide your own powered armor.
You had me at potato skin appetizers. But I already have a lieutenant. You may however be put in command of a squadron of of my shipboard marines (the mutant robot ninja flying spiders with lasers on their heads).
Woo hoo! Uh, as long as there’s no math involved in commanding a squadron of whatevers, count me in.
I was going to say that you’ve already expressed a willingness to put other things in your mouth, but I decided that was too crass.
[Evil but magnaminous captain mode]
That said, given your credentials, you may deal with the issue as you wish.
[/Evil but magnaminous captain mode]
I know I already have a berth, but I should mention that I make a marvelous deep-dish Southern Comfort Peach Pie. Just the thing after a big bowl of chili and a few pints of homebrew…
Is it too obvious that I’m angling for an upgrade?
If any of my concubines care for your peach pie, you shall be moved out of steerage and into third-class.
Should any of them dislike it, however, particularly the inestimable Jodie Foster, you will of course be spaced.
You should take me because I know the root password!
Besides, if you’re going to do the whole concubine thing, you’ll no doubt have to have a group of neutered male guards. With my management & technical skills, I could be your Unix Administrator and your Eunuchs administrator. Two for the price of one.
I also know how to crochet (is this close enough Betenoir). I make good cheesecake from scratch, I can quote massive sections of “Bored of the Rings”, and I can be used as a secondary power source. Feed me peanut butter and I could be the largest source of natural methane on board.
That might come in handy when the insurrection shuts down the fusion power plant.
No, that’s why I my mind-control device. Plus the dead-man switch connecting heartbeat to the self-destruct mechanism.
Betenoir’s knitting remark was aimed at ME, Captain Bligh, dude. Force me not to space you.
Yes, you’re exactly the man I want to be riding with in an enclosed space for twelve months.
Where is it you live again? I need the coordinates for the wave motion gun. 
OK, so no peanut butter on Ritz crackers and leave the wool at home. Check.
Lesse - what else to offer?
I’ve got an extensive DVD collection, including every Futurama & Dilbert episode. I make great breakfasts including from-scratch pancakes, fried eggs over easy, sausage, coffee & juice.
Lastly, I have soft-on-the-surface-but-surprisingly-firm-beneath buttocks that may be useful for plugging small punctures in the hull caused by slithering hull doctors.
Can I come? Huh?
Not after that bit about your ass, no. Now please hold still whilst I arm the wave motion gun.
At first, I was going to offer a serious, detailed answer, describing myself as a flexible generalist, the kind of person who can be put to virtually any task and succeed, which will be extraordinarily valuable in your new society. I’m an excellent cook; I’m a storyteller and story theorist (and if you don’t think stories are important for cultural health, consider how many millions of dollars even the shittiest Reese Witherspoon movie makes); I’m technically adept (my day job is computer-related); I’m well-read in SF and know the pitfalls; I have an extensive library of books, music, and film; and so on. Plus, I’m not terribly ambitious about achieving a leadership position, so I wouldn’t be a threat. From a practical perspective, I’m an excellent addition.
Then I remembered my top qualification: There is nobody on this board more adept at identifying telemarketers and driving them back into the slime whence they slithered. The minute one of these beasts gets its claws into your incipient civilization, you’re toast.
I figure I get two tickets.
Hell, man, you had me with storyteller, cook, and unambitious. But I’ll need to see the video collection to make sure there’s no porn I have to confiscate for the good of our new nation.
You shall be in charge of telemarketer decapitation program.
I’d publish the book that (through amazing, amazing intuitive powers) I know you’re working on, and distribute it across the land. Normally I would use my amazing powers of mind-control to convince the population that it was worth reading, but because it would obviously be absolutely stellar anyway, that wouldn’t be necessary.
And I make the meanest spaghetti this side of Magrathea.