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SQ6 transcript

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0.msgEdit

  • The button lists the various life forms that helped create Space Quest Six.
  • Don't touch that. We don't know where you've been.
  • It feels slightly gritty. You suppress an urge to dust it.
  • Don't pick at it, you'll only make it worse.
  • It wouldn't be prudent to do that at this juncture.
  • You summon the ability to leave it alone.
  • That wouldn't prove fulfilling.
  • That's delightfully non-helpful.
  • That won't help in this situation.
  • You didn't learn the pinch just to use it against your friendly crew mates.
  • Excellent guess, Kreskin. Wrong, but excellent.
  • As cool as it would be to interface these two items, no good would come of it.
  • It probably seemed like a good idea to you at one time.
  • That's an interesting idea. Not a good one, but interesting nonetheless.
  • It would appear that merging those two items is not a good idea.
  • Boy, wouldn't it be cool if that really worked?
  • It looks a lot more detailed than it did in SQ4, that's for sure.
  • It hurts your eyes to look at that. In fact, you feel a major headache coming on.
  • You display your standard blank stare, but it is unimpressed.
  • You are visually unimpressed.
  • Not much going on there, eh?
  • That bores me so.
  • What can be said that isn't painfully obvious?
  • You look at it, but nothing strikes your fancy.
  • You start to say something, and then you remember that you're supposed to be a man of action, not words. Or is that the other way around?
  • You drool in that direction but no one notices.
  • Your utterances fall on uninterested aural organs.
  • You get a jump on senility by mumbling to yourself.
  • Your words are so unspectacular, nature doesn't even see fit to grant it an echo.
  • Your words cause everything to become speechless. How dynamic of you.
  • Hey, don't put your mouth on that!
  • This button brings up the Control Panel, allowing you to save or restore games, change volume and speed, and some other stuff. Have a look. Hurry now, while supplies last.
  • This control adjusts the amount of onscreen animation. If the game is very slow on your machine, try lowering this.
  • The "Hands" button allows you to pick up items, open or close things, push or pull them, or manipulate them in some appropriate -- or inappropriate -- fashion.
  • This button allows you to exit the current window.
  • This button allows you to find out what these controls do.
  • This button allows you to get an explanation of what each button on the interface does.
  • Click on the "Pockets" button at any time to see what you're carrying with you.
  • Push here to load a previously saved game.
  • Clicking on the "Eyes" button brings up the eye cursor, which you may then click on to get a description of that item.
  • This changes the music volume.
  • Push this button when you're done with whatever was so important that you had to pause.
  • Pushing this button exits the game.
  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


Now, tell us what you enjoyed about the game. Use examples from

the text. Why or why not? Be brief.

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


It's world-class!

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


(Applause!) Encore! Encore! Author, author! Which one?

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


Okay, show of hands. Now, how many of you were offended by the

shape of the DeepShip 86?

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


Aren't you glad your middle name isn't "Lawrence"?

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


Game over, Man, game over!

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."




(This humorous space for rent)

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


"Pizza and Pentiums, Pentiums and Pizza. That's all I ever

hear about." - Josh Mandel/Mark Hood/Oliver Brelsford 1994-95

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


"Heap High Water Mark" is a registered trademark of Sierra On-Line,

Incorporated.

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


Captain! There be DOS prompts here!

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


"Mostly bearded programmers for a real hairy experience."

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


"Mostly long-haired artists for a mostly long-haired gaming

experience."

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


Roger Wilco has left the computer! I repeat; Roger has left the computer!

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


We're not emotionally unstable, once you get to know us. Really.

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


"I swear! We never play Doom! What're you talking about?"

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."


Just keep telling yourself: it's only a game...it's only a game...

  • Copyright (c) 1995 Sierra On-Line, Inc.


Thank you for playing "Space Quest 6."

  • This button turns screen scrolling on or off.
  • This button allows you to turn screen scrolling on or off.
  • Press this button to save your current place in the adventure.
  • This button allows you to turn screen scrolling on or off.
  • This button gives you control of the volume of the sound effects.
  • This button instantly cues the staff of Hollywood actors we have standing by to start acting the game out loud. Press it again, and they'll take five.
  • This button allows you to control the speed of this game.
  • Clicking the "Mouth" button brings up the mouth cursor. If you click the mouse cursor on a person, you'll talk to that person. If you click it on an object, you might chew it, lick it, or perform some other mouth-oriented action -- within reason!
  • This button allows you to adjust the speed at which the text messages are displayed.
  • Press this button when you want to see text messages. Press it again when you don't.
  • Clicking on the object shown in this window (if any) will give you the cursor for that object, allowing you to give it to something or someone, or just proudly display it.
  • Clicking this button brings up the "Feet" cursor. This cursor allows you to move around Roger's world.

15.msgEdit

  • While that's an interesting idea, it won't help.
  • It's the Damping Field Actuator.
  • The shuttle's alarm is now deactivated.
  • The shuttle's alarm is now activated.
  • I probably don't need to set the alarm.
  • It's a key with a little button thingie attached to it.
  • It's the alien ID you snagged from that rusty bike. That's a fairly hideous picture of the former owner. It makes the average Department of Motor Vehicles photographer look like Ansel Adams.
  • You quite cleverly paste your picture over the old one on the ID card.
  • You poke it and prod it, and generally make it feel like a piece of meat!
  • You get fingerprints all over it.
  • What, was that supposed to be clever?
  • Don't mess with that!
  • Nothing happens. See, most games would just give you a generic response when you try something useless like that. But we've custom-tailored this response exactly for you!
  • Careful! Combining those items might cause a rip in the space-time continuum, a tear in the very fabric of space itself! (Or not.)
  • In this galaxy, those two items don't do anything together. Maybe it's different in your neck of the woods, huh?
  • Pretty cool looking, eh?
  • Let's look at it together and see what we can see, okay?
  • It looks vaguely like your heinie after it's been chewed out by your boss.
  • Don't even bother looking in your pockets. You are carrying nothing, nada, zip, zero, zilch.
  • These are the printouts of the files you've collected from cyberspace as evidence against Dr. Beleauxs.
  • You're the first one on your block to actually possess someone else's alveoli!
  • All the little capillaries you collected are nicely attached together with duct tape.
  • It's one of the interestingly shaped pastries you took from the food cart.
  • It's not effective now.
  • It's Nigel's belt with the Damping Field Actuator still attached.
  • It's Nigel's belt, complete with the Damping Field Actuator and a nifty Personal Grooming Assistant.
  • It's the printout of Dr. Beleaux's record, which you found in cyberspace.
  • It's the plank you found at the construction site.
  • Cool. Bobbit-Kabobs. They whip up some interesting food items in this joint.
  • Now it has some cool ears.
  • Don't mess with it or the deal might be off.
  • It's that Coldsorian Brandy Elmo wanted. Yuck, it has a fish floating in the bottom. Oh well, to each their own.
  • It's that Coldsorian brandy. Yuck! It has a fish floating in the bottom. Oh well, to each their own.
  • There isn't much you can do to them that inflation hasn't already.
  • That's your current Buckazoid collection.
  • That label won't come off.
  • It's a burlesque moddie.
  • It's the Callahan moddie you scavenged from Delta Burksilon.
  • It's a piece of that stringy stuff from celery.
  • It's the Stooge Fighter 3 cheat sheet you got from Elmo.
  • To guarantee a win, the cheat sheet says, "When at the Choice screen, press the machine's letter buttons in the following order: A B B A C A C A. Then, be aggressive and attack as much as possible using your new secret weapon."
  • It's the label you peeled from the churlish moddie.
  • The corner of the label on this moddie seems to be loose.
  • That's the churlish moddie I found in that box.
  • It's the Crap-O-Matic adjustable piston.
  • It's a piece of Divalium crystal with glue on it.
  • You pour glue all over the crystal.
  • It's a piece of Divalium crystal.
  • That's the cyberspace jack.
  • You're already using it!
  • Sorry, you can't bring up the datacorder at this time.
  • This is the datacorder you got from that endodroid hunter dude.
  • This is the Subroutine Program Card you got from sickbay.
  • It's the doughnut you filched from the food cart.
  • No, you can't eat it.
  • It's the most indespensible item in the universe: duct tape.
  • You cleverly tape the capillaries together.
  • That's an interesting idea. It might have some potential.
  • The Rack of Orat adds a nice touch.
  • An interesting idea. Something's starting to take shape. What are you up to, Roger?
  • Those items seem to meld well with the sculpture in progress.
  • It looks like it's taking shape nicely.
  • Attachment of that adds something more to your work in progress.
  • Something seems to be taking shape here.
  • How creative!
  • That's a nice touch.
  • It's a tube of Elmo's Gluzall.
  • That's your relatively pathetic eulogy for Stellar.
  • That's your helmet partly full of enzymes or whatever.
  • That's your helmet.
  • With a head like yours, you're lucky they even supplied you with a helmet.
  • Maybe you should inflate it first ...
  • That's your extra vehicular activity, or EVA, suit.
  • It's a broken fingernail tip you scavenged from Stellar's appendix.
  • It's the first PTS photo negative.
  • You peel apart the photo and negative from your first PTS image.
  • This is the photo taken with the Photo Triangulation System.
  • It's the first positive image from the PTS.
  • I don't think you really want to touch that scaly piece of marine life. Trust me on this one.
  • It's a fish. (You'd better remember to wash these pants after this sequel.)
  • Those are the gallstones you collected as souvenirs from Stellar's common bile duct.
  • It's a plate of Grellhair spaghetti.
  • Nice work. You've hooked up your makeshift hose to the pump.
  • There's nothing to pump in this window.
  • It's the pump you retrieved from the shuttle trunk. It reminds you of one of those hand pumps you use when the astrohead plugs up.
  • It's a somewhat damaged CD Rom disc.
  • Ah, the hookah hoses are now neatly connected.
  • You carefully untangle the twisted mass of hookah hoses, and then rehook the hoses to create one long hose. It reminds you of Christmas time back home when you enjoyed untangling the Christmas lights and saying to yourself, "I get so much satisfaction from cleaning and straightening. One day I'll be the best janitor ever!"
  • Well, at least one part of that dream came true. You are a janitor. You rehook the hoses to create one long one.
  • It's a twisted mass of hookah hoses.
  • That's your makeshift grappling hook.
  • It's the keycard to your luxurious suite at the charming Dew Beam Inn. The room number is 1220 J.
  • Don't mess with that. You've got enough problems.
  • It's the ice cube tray you grabbed from the bar refrigerator.
  • It's an an ice cube tray full of endodroid.
  • Very good. He'll be much more transportable this way. However, you'd better hope it doesn't thaw.
  • It's the record on ICKY - Interstellar Council on Keeping Young.
  • This turns on the inventory "Help," which is already turned on (which is why you're getting this message!).
  • Click here to bring up an arrow cursor. If you click the arrow on any of your inventory items, that item will become "active," ready to use.
  • This button scrolls your inventory window down (only when you have more than eight inventory items).
  • Click on this "Eye" button to bring up an "Eye" cursor, which you may then click on the inventory items to receive descriptions of them.
  • Click on this to bring up the inventory "Hand", which lets you turn on, turn off, open, close, or otherwise manipulate the inventory items.
  • Click here to return to active gameplay, rather than mucking about here in Inventory Help.
  • This marker shows your viewing position in relation to the entire size of the inventory window. Got that?
  • This button scrolls your inventory window up (only when you have more than eight inventory items).
  • These are the shuttle's jumper cables. That sure doesn't make you feel real secure about this spacecraft if those are standard equipment.
  • It's that lardmaster's keyring.
  • These are the candies you retrieved from Stellar's stomach.
  • It's a marking pen.
  • It's an electromagnet you quite cleverly constructed from the nerve fiber bundles and paper clip.
  • It's a nice round melon.
  • It's a bottle of Morphin, which you thought was actually Morphine. DOI!
  • It's a bottle of Morphin.
  • That's the keyring nail I got from the wall.
  • That's a bundle of nerve fibers you borrowed from Stellar's innards.
  • This is the record on Nigel Rancid.
  • This is the printout of Nigel's record from cyberspace.
  • It's the number three card you took from the card dispenser.
  • It's a paper clip from Stellar's appendix. You're definitely going to have to talk to Stellar about her eating habits -- that is, if you make it out of here.
  • No, that's just not a good idea now.
  • Yuck!! It's the hair you pulled from Nigel's Personal Grooming Assistant.
  • It's the Personal Grooming Assistant you got from Nigel.
  • It's a picture and its negative.
  • It's one of those ticklish pinfeather things.
  • It's a fairly heavy and solid piece of pipe.
  • This one's the Project: Immortality record from the cyberspace file room.
  • This one's the Project: Immortality record printout.
  • The pump's ready to do its thing.
  • I remember what this is. It's a Rack of Orat. Haven't seen this stuff since Space Quest 1.
  • It's a mere scrap of rag.
  • It's the recall notice for the owner's manual.
  • It reads "Dear Hamm Shuttle Owner, It has come to our attention that there is a minor misprint in the owner's manual for the 1000 series of shuttles. Until a new manual can be acquired, please disregard page 73, paragraph 4 of that manual.
  • Where it reads, "As any moron knows,

when jumping the 1000 series, please

match the '+' cable end with the '+'

terminal on the polarflux repeater

deck. Follow the same procedure for

the '-' cable and '-' pole."

  • It should now read, "As any moron knows,

when jumping the 1000 series, please

match the '+' cable end with '\03' pole,

and the '-' cable end with the '\02' pole.

Thank you for flying a Hammster."

  • This is the printout of the cyberspace record for Sharpei.
  • This is Sharpei's record. Interesting stuff, indeed.
  • It's the screwdriver you found outside the cyberspace trailer.
  • It's the negative from the second PTS image.
  • You peel apart the photo and negative from the second PTS image.
  • This is the second PTS photo. It has yet to be peeled apart.
  • This is the second photo positive.
  • It's the bundle of capillaries you appropriated from Stellar.
  • It's the "Help!" sign from the shuttle's trunk.
  • It's the right arm Circuit Sydney was so kind to lend you.
  • This is Sydney's left eye.
  • You shiver as you run your fingers over the cold silver filling.
  • (QUITE IMPRESSED) Oooooohh!
  • It's a chunk of silver tooth filling you found in Stellar's appendix.
  • It's a piece of staple. You've got to wonder what was on the menu for Stellar's last meal.
  • This is the file on Stellar. It looks like a fresh entry.
  • This is the printout from Stellar's cyberspace file.
  • It's the Subroutine Program Disc the doctor gave you to be able to navigate through Stellar's body.
  • It's one of those neat little timed-release time pills.
  • It's a transport signaler.
  • It's a tuberous growth of some sort from the food cart.
  • Yuck, it's the hair you pulled from Nigel's Personal Grooming Assistant.
  • It's that static-laden cheapo polystyrene rug you ripped from the wall.
  • No, I don't think you want to mess with that.
  • It's your whisk broom, and tray full of endodroid.
  • It's your trusty whisk broom and dust pan.
  • These look like something they cleaved from the side of Yoda's head.

20.msgEdit

  • As Manuel told you, you can only use it from the area you transported to originally.
  • The shuttle's alarm is now deactivated.
  • The shuttle's alarm is now activated.
  • You don't need to WEAR it, you just need to USE it.
  • You're not that hungry. In fact, you've never been THAT hungry.
  • Roger, you're enough of a mess when you're straight. Getting a buzz will certainly not help.
  • We wouldn't even want to predict where you think that plug goes!
  • Sorry, you can't bring up the datacorder at this time.
  • You pinch yourself to make sure this isn't all a bad dream.
  • Roger is in space. He can't remove his helmet.
  • Not a bad idea if you're trying to take yourself hostage!
  • No, that's just not a good idea now.
  • You actually don't need need to wear your helmet while traipsing around inside Stellar.
  • You're back in your comfy, reassuring janitorial duds.
  • Hey! That's me!
  • You're already holding the prong. Did you want to insert it into some sort of orifice?
  • Youch! I guess that was wasn't too smart. Now that's a pain that's going to linger.
  • I hope I never get so far gone that I end up talking to myself ... like ... this.
  • It just doesn't work that way.

24.msgEdit

  • Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
  • Chapter 3
  • Epilogue
  • Prologue
  • Chapter (0-4)
  • Where to?
  • < Restore >
  • Arcade
  • Bridge

30.msgEdit

  • Free Memory:
  • kBytes
  • Space Quest 6
  • Roger Wilco in
  • The Spinal Frontier
  • Version:

45.msgEdit

  • It's the belt that big guy was wearing.
  • It's the Damping Field Actuator.
  • This is a Personal Grooming Assistant.

50.msgEdit

  • Additional Cross Reference: |c10|Project: Immortality|c|
  • Dr. Hayden Beleauxs is the Chief Medical Administrator of the Golden Lightyears Retirement Community. He has gained much notoriety over his controversial efforts to mitigate the effects of -- some say to altogether eliminate -- aging.


Cross Reference: |c10|Sharpei|c|, |c10|Santiago|c|.

  • Beleauxs, Dr. H.
  • Hmm ... looks like interesting reading.
  • The Holy Grail of narcissists everywhere, Project: Immortality is the cold, hard scientific name applied to the cold, hard science that is the Fountain of Youth of our times. Project: Immortality is funded by Sharpei and overseen by controversial doctor Hayden Beleauxs. It promises humankind the hope of the ages: eternal life. Sure makes marriage a scary propostion though, doesn't it?


Cross Reference: |c10|End Game|c|

  • Project: Immortality
  • Nigel Rancid and his brother Singent are hired thugs. Most recently, the Rancid brothers have beem employed by Dr. Hayden Beleauxs and Sharpei of the Golden Lightyears Retirement Community on Delta Burksilon V.


Cross Reference: |c10|Beleauxs|c|, |c10|Sharpei|c|, |c10|Santiago|c|

  • Rancid, Nigel
  • Corpsman Stellar Santiago was a member of the StarCon Fleet before her departure from this world while attempting to rescue a janitor second class who was stationed aboard SCS DeepShip 86.


Cross Reference: |c10|Sharpei|c|, |c10|Beleauxs|c|

  • Santiago, Stellar
  • A philanthropist of the first order, this benefactress of many good causes is known throughout the universe simply as "Sharpei." Sharpei's most recent project has been the Golden Lightyears Retirement Community on Delta Burksilon V, where she hopes to spend her declining years. Always thinking of others, this grand lady will leave a legacy of charitable works behind her when she goes.


Cross Reference: |c10|Beleauxs|c|, |c10|Santiago|c|

  • Sharpei

98.msgEdit

  • Ahem. I said, AHEM!
  • Major bummer!
  • Thank you for playing Space Quest 6: Roger Wilco in the Spinal Frontier.
  • Thank you for purchasing Space Quest 6. You did purchase it, didn't you? Oh, of course you did. You sure couldn't be like one of those weasels who would make illegal copies. You're too cool for that.
  • Thank you for playing Space Quest 6. You've been a real hoot!
  • Oh, that was real cute!
  • I don't have anything that works in that.
  • No, on second thought, I don't think I should bug them.
  • Nah, I don't want to mess with that.
  • It's going to be hard to top this experience.
  • Hello, I'm Gary Owens and I'll be your narrator today.
  • That had to feel interesting.
  • I'll kick your ass!
  • I'm not gonna put my lips on that!
  • Hang on! Here we go!
  • So close, and yet so far away.
  • Squeezing Stellar's pimple, Dr. Beleauxs forcibly extracts you.
  • Was that a good shot or what?!
  • Space Quest 6: Roger Wilco and the Spinal Frontier.
  • Sorry, I'm not touching that and you can't make me.
  • Nice try!
  • Good thinking!
  • No, I don't think that'll work.
  • While that's an interesting idea, it won't help.
  • Interesting.
  • Good thinking!
  • Now, there's a novel instrument.
  • As Manuel told you, you can only use it from the area you transported to originally.

99.msgEdit

  • Do you have anything to say for yourself before we pronounce sentence?
  • Umm ...
  • Can't you guys take a joke?
  • Do you have anything INTELLIGENT to say for yourself before we pronounce sentence?
  • Uh, nope.
  • Very well. It is the opinion of this tribunal that as punishment for your crimes against the StarCon Federation, you are to be decommissioned.
  • You are hereby stripped of the rank of Captain. (LOUD RIPPING SOUND)
  • You are no longer an officer of the StarCon Federation. (ANOTHER LOUD RIP)
  • Your enrollment at StarCon Academy is hereby terminated.
  • However ...
  • Due to your successful return of the SCS Eureka, your rescue of the Goliath's crew ...
  • ... and the fact that nobody gets rid of stubborn mildew stains and black heel marks as well as you do ...
  • ... we are returning you to your former post with StarCon Fleet.
  • You are hereby ordered to resume your duties immediately as Janitor Second Class on board ...
  • ... the SCS DeepShip 86.
  • The StarCon Federation has reached its decision.
  • Roger Wilco, please step forward.
  • Roger Wilco, you have been judged guilty of the following crimes:
  • Abandoning your post. Deviating from mission parameters.
  • Misuse of StarCon property.
  • Disintegrating a fellow officer.
  • Perpetrating a sequel without authorization.
  • And consorting with a female of higher rank.
  • Attention, all hands.
  • This is your commander speaking ...
  • I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your fine performance during our recent episode, "A Stitch In Time Saves Gamma Nine."
  • So, Thank you. Thank you. Thank you...
  • Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you ...
  • Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you ...
  • ... thank you, thank you ... thank you.
  • As a gesture of appreciation, we're putting in for shore leave on Polysorbate LX. Enjoy yourselves and don't do anything I wouldn't do. Kielbasa out.
  • Meanwhile, in a deserted warehouse just outside the galaxy ...
  • I don't care how you do it, Gentlemen, so long as his body is intact. Do you understand?
  • Yeah, right, yes, right, you got it, right away, whatever you say, right, yes....
  • Good. Now. I believe you'll find him here ... on Polysorbate LX ... on shore leave ...
  • Okay, I'm ready. Energize!

100.msgEdit

  • Did you hear about the animator who killed himself? Yeah, he couldn't draw his own breath.
  • Who wrote this crap? Oh yeah, Scott. Yeah, well, yeah, then good work.
  • PRODUCER


Oliver Brelsford

  • DESIGNED BY


Josh Mandel

Scott Murphy

  • WRITTEN BY


Scott Murphy

Josh Mandel

  • ART DESIGN


Michael Hutchison

John Shroades

  • LEAD PROGRAMMER


Steve Conrad

  • MUSIC DIRECTOR


Dan Kehler

  • COMPOSERS


Neil Grandstaff

Dan Kehler

  • BACKGROUND ART


John Shroades

Chris Willis

  • ANIMATION


Michael Hutchison

Deanna Yhalkee

Karin Nestor

Barry Sundt

Frankie Powell

  • PROGRAMMERS


William R. Shockley

Michael G. Lytton

Arijit De

Sterling S. Butts

Oliver Brelsford

  • STOOGE FIGHTER CODE


William R. Shockley

  • STOOGE FIGHTER ANIMATION


Karin Nestor

  • 3D RENDERING & ANIMATION


Chris Willis

Michael Hutchison

  • AUDIO ENGINEERS


Rick and Kelli Spurgeon

Scott Murphy

Oliver Brelsford

  • QUALITY ASSURANCE


Jon Meek

  • TEXT EDITOR


Leslie S. Balfour

  • ADDITIONAL TEXT


Susan Frischer

Leslie S. Balfour

  • ADDITIONAL ANIMATION


Chris Willis

Jason Piel

Alberto Eufrasio

Jason Zayas

  • SYSTEM DEVELOPMENT


Larry Scott

Ed Critchlow

Dan Foy

Ken Koch

Terry McHenry

Chris Smith

Greg Tomko-Pavia

Mark Wilden

  • QA CONFIGURATION LEAD


John Trauger

  • CONFIGURATION TESTING


Michael D. Jones

Sharon Simmons

Bill Davis Jr.

Lynne Dayton

John Ratcliffe

Douglas Wheeler

John Cunney

Mike Pickhincke

Leonard Salas

Roger Clendenning

Steve Deckert

Jillian Leonard

Paul Trowe

Scott Howell

Marsha McCarty

  • VOICE AUDITIONS


Taylor Korobow

  • VOICES RECORDED AT


Fantasy Studios

Waves Studio

Russian Hill Recording

  • VOICE TALENT


Narrator: Gary Owens

Roger Wilco: William Hall

Stellar Santiago: Carol Bach Y Rita

Sharpei: Carol Bach Y Rita

Doctor Beleauxs: Jarion Monroe

Commander Kielbasa: Jarion Monroe

Djurkwhad: Joe Paulino

Dorff: Joe Paulino

Endodroid: Tom Chantler

Blaine Rohmer: Jarion Monroe

Pa Conshohocken: Charles Martinet

Elmo Pug: Doug Boyd

Fester Blatz: Joe Paulino

Circuit Sydney: Doug Boyd

  • VOICE TALENT


Sys Inny: Carol Bach Y Rita

Singent Flembuckit: Tom Chantler

Nigel Rancid: Tom Chantler

Ray Trace: Charles Martinet

Wriggley: Carol Bach Y Rita

P'Tooie: Charles Martinet

Hotel Manager: Roger Jackson

Jebba the Hop: Denny Delk

Waitron: Lucille Bliss

Director: William Hall

Starcon Official: Jarion Monroe

Manuel Auxveride: Joe Paulino

Computer Voice: William Hall

  • SOYLENT CLEAR JINGLE


Sung by: Lana Roberts

  • DOCUMENTATION


Written by: Leslie S. Balfour

Designed by: Lori Lucia

  • SPECIAL THANKS


J. Mark Hood

Jerry Bowerman

Craig Alexander

Cindy Wharton

Darlou Gams

Bob Andrews

  • Dedicated to Duncan Thacker
  • Dedicated to the loving memory of Garrett Denver Peckinpah

200.msgEdit

  • He looks like someone you'd want to just run up to and pound with a mallet.
  • Unfortunately, you're fresh out of mallets.
  • This guy looks like a well-used railroad spike. Perhaps the rust and mushroomed head give it away.
  • This humongous, expensive game is an all-time favorite. You have to duplicate famous gourmet dishes while piloting vintage combat aircraft against the Nazi Menace.
  • It's called "Secret Recipes of the Luftwaffe."
  • Wonder what's with the blue kid. You could have sworn you heard him say, "Are you my mommy?"
  • He seems to be oblivious to your presence, but then, who isn't to some degree?
  • The ceiling area is loaded with lights, cables, and other crap. It sure looks neat. Too bad no one knows what any of it does.
  • Hey, this guy's good! You can kiss this game goodbye.
  • Yeah, like I need you rubbing it in.
  • Sorry.
  • I changed my mind. Maybe later.
  • How lucky can a guy get? That was pure luck! Geez!
  • Where's my money?
  • Here.
  • Now if I were you, I'd make myself scarce, you little lump of phlegm. Otherwise I'm gonna lose my temper, and all that's gonna be left of you is teeth and toenails.
  • Realizing that he probably means what he says, you wisely make your way out of here.
  • So, do you want to play?
  • Let's rumble!
  • That's not recommended. That'll either get an appendage removed or a date you really don't want.
  • It's your new acquaintance, Djurkwhad.
  • Now that's an interesting specimen. Is this place the backwoods of the universe or what?
  • I've thought it over. I think I'll give it a try. Let's do it, Tentacle Head.
  • Great! I can't wait to waste you. You're gonna bring good money at the slave colony.
  • Wow, Man. Guess I got real lucky, or maybe you were holding back on me. Nah, you wouldn't do that, would ya. You don't look that bri... I mean, that probably isn't your style.
  • Wanna play again? (PUT UP YES/NO DIALOG)
  • Hi, Mr. Djurkwhad. How about another game of Stooge Fighter? I'm feeling a little luckier this time.
  • Heh, heh, you know, Kid, I'd really like to but I need a little more of a challenge. Take a long walk off a short asteroid, okay?
  • What's the matter? Afraid a measly, little, pencil-neck, lowlife janitor and general waste of human life is going to embarrass you in front of your friends?
  • Well said.
  • Hold on there, you little puke! I'm not afraid of some puny little zit on the butt of the universe.
  • Djurkwhad is a scaredy cat! Djurkwhad is scaredy cat!
  • All right, you little wad of spit. Let's play. I'll waste you. Tell you what. Let's make it interesting. If you win (HEAVY SNICKER), I'll give you 300 buckazoids. However, if I win, you're mine to do with as I see fit. Is it a deal?
  • (PLACE HOLDER)
  • Oh, this is gonna be fun! You're a bit puny but I'm sure I'll be able to get a few buckazoids for you over at the slave colony.
  • I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you quite right. Did you say "slave colony"?
  • Too late to back out, Borg Breath.
  • I knew that.
  • Gee, Mr. Djurkwhad, I don't think so right now. I'm feeling a little transporter lag. Maybe later.
  • So this is Stooge Fighter 3. Doesn't look so tough to me.
  • Say, Pardner, care to indulge in a friendly game?
  • By the way, the name's Djurkwhad. What's your momma call you?
  • A mistake. But my friends call me Roger, Roger Wilco.
  • Well, it's darn fine to meet you, Roger. So, what do ya' say to a friendly little round of Stooge Fighter 3?
  • (NEED CHOICE DIALOG - SURE, LET'S PLAY OR NO, I THINK I'LL TRY IT SOLO.)
  • Gosh, Mr. Djurkwhad. That, ah, that sounds neat.
  • Not now, thanks.
  • Uh, let me know when you're ready to play, little buddy.
  • That's the door back out to the street. A quick survey of the knob jockeys in this joint makes you think it might be a good thing to stay close to.
  • Oh, yeah, you want a fingerload of that stuff. Think about it. Teenager-types come in here. Imagine where they've been. Imagine what interesting things they secrete. Yuck.
  • It's a bit dark down there. Believe me, it's just as well.
  • It's hard to see with this big oaf in front of it, but this looks like the hot new game "Beat the Crap Out of Urkel."
  • (It replaces last year's smash game, "Beat the Crap out of the Encyclopedia Britannica Kid." You know, the one that keeps saying, "Ouch, you broke my mandibula!")
  • In this game, you have to play basketball in a three-piece suit, barefoot, while avoiding deadly athlete's foot fungus growing on the court. It's called "MBA Toejam."
  • An overhead screen advertises a new kiddy-level arcade game in which you walk around Calcutta trying to match the right body part with the leper who lost it.
  • It's called, "Mixed-Up Mother Teresa."
  • Isn't it funny how the wimpiest little nerds are always best at these fighting games?
  • Ah, nothing personal.
  • This rough, tough, creampuff is positively murdelizing that machine.
  • That's one hefty teenager. Must be from the Mariposa planetoid.
  • Leave him alone. He's trying for his personal high.
  • It's last year's hot arcade punch-'em-up, "More Dull Kombat 2."
  • That would be an ill-advised move, Roger. Believe me.
  • Yeow. It looks like some Village People DNA got loose somewhere.
  • On second thought, I think I'll just leave this guy alone. I've heard some really bad things about secondary smoke.
  • Yes, I'm sure it has nothing to do with your fear of becoming a two-dimensional floor decoration once he pounds you so hard you look like you were freeze-dried.
  • Cool. It's a potential sucker, trying to decide if it's worth it!
  • There's a serious dweeb factor happening here.
  • This arcade, known to the locals as "Dismembers Only," is filled with lowlifes, druggies and juvenile deliquents from all over the galaxy.
  • And those are just the employees!
  • These Lava Screens from Magmetheus show soothing visuals while playing hot TechnoLava tunes ... like, "What's Lava Got to Do With It," "You Always Hurt the One You Lava," and "Just Let Your Lava Flow."
  • Not now, it's intensely involved in its game.
  • This little purple being is kicking fanny on this game. He's built up an audience.
  • Don't interrupt it.
  • It's in use.
  • This is one of those exciting racing games where you careen around corners at top speed, zoom over crumbling bridges, run over passers-by, collide with other vehicles, and fly off the track.
  • It's called "Virtual Amtrak."
  • Anything that shortens THIS guy's lifespan probably makes the universe a safer place.
  • No way! I don't want to get any of that on me.
  • Another in the wide variety of lifeforms you've seen on this planet, this guy just stands there, looks, and fires an occasional lunger.
  • How did all these forms manage to come together in one place? Normally, you'd have to travel lightyears to run into just a few different lifeforms. This place has the odds beaten big time!
  • It ignores you. Some of these beings act like mannequins. They're fully developed physically, but they seem perfectly content to just stand and look at the pretty lights. Weird.
  • (GO TO THE GAME)
  • Look, it's the hot new game, "Stooge Fighter 3"! It's supposed to be the goriest, most violent arcade game since "Disembowling For Dollars."
  • Interesting head formation. He looks like one of those cranium suckers you saw in a scary movie once.
  • Guess that means YOU'LL be safe.

210.msgEdit

  • Each of these buttons performs a different function depending on which character you are playing. Instructions are given at the beginning of each game.
  • This one's Coily Joe. Coily's bulk belies the finesse-laden look up-look down move and the "nyaahh" hand in the face. He also has the raw power to deliver a stunning fist-on-nose overhand. A powerful package indeed.
  • This is the Lar-Man. He has a mean ear twist, a sinus-draining nose tweak, and he does a pretty respectable crowbar to the nose. He's not one to be underestimated.
  • This is Big Mo. Big Mo's specialties are the face slap, and a particularly effective hair pull guaranteed to make even Geordi's eyes water.
  • Lar Man Wins!
  • Coily Joe Wins!
  • Big Mo Wins!
  • Lar Man wins the match!
  • Coily Joe wins the match!
  • Big Mo wins the match!
  • You moidered him.
  • He moidered you!
  • Untainted victory!
  • Unblemished victory!
  • Choice victory!
  • Game Over, Man.
  • To play using the mouse!

Click on the "A, B or C" buttons to attack.

Click on joystick pads to move forward,

backward or duck.

  • During the game the joystick controls your player's moves. (We have no idea what it does on its time off.)
  • To play using the keyboard!

Press "A" to move backward.

Press "S" to duck.

Press "D" to move forward.

Press "Q, W or E" to attack.

  • Yes, this is it, the one and only (BIG ECHO) STOOGE FIGHTER 3!

220.msgEdit

  • They aren't coin slots!
  • No, the cheat sheet isn't going to let you cheat through this.
  • Nothing you can do with this sucker. It's fried.
  • The crack maintenance crew must be tied up. This slot needs some work.
  • You have no real need for charred goods at this juncture.
  • Looks like some loopy doofus tried to light their cigar with a phaser. Bet that wasn't a pretty sight.
  • The elevator's already here. Walk your lazy can over and climb in if you want to use it.
  • The buttons serve to summon the elevator from the lower floor.
  • (IF ROGER IS IN THE ELEVATOR HAVE HIM OPEN THE CAGE AND WALK OUT AND LEAVE IT OPEN. IF HE'S OUT OF IT, HAVE HIM WALK IN, CLOSE IT AND CHANGE ROOMS.)
  • That's the protective cage. Not for protecting the elevator, rather for protecting you from yourself.
  • What's wrong, don't your hands feel gritty enough already?
  • Great carpet. This is definitely no place to lose a contact lens.
  • They're as strong as they are tacky-looking. You're not getting through one of those without an invitation.
  • They look more like cell doors than hotel room doors. It's kind of a Motel 3 meets Riker's look.
  • It's the elevator you rode up in.
  • The floor indicator lights above the elevator, while decorative, seem to serve no actual purpose since you've only seen this elevator go to one other floor. Who's the art designer on this project anyway?
  • One thing that does work here is the lighting. Too bad. This is one place you really don't want to see that well.
  • Hey there, Pal. Got a second? Me and my friend here was wondering something.
  • Fire away. What did you want to know?
  • Well, we was wondering if you'd have any objection to us pounding you senseless.
  • Grab him and let's get moving. I gotta report in soon.
  • Can't read that one but it does look like something you once read in a fortune cookie.
  • Yes, I'll bet the leaves would make a wonderfully aromatic tea, a fine spice for cooking, or a most soothing poultice for pulsing, flaring 'rhoids.
  • Maybe they're supposed to look that way, but this plant looks like it was dead and buried a long time ago.
  • Just as you are about to insert the keycard so you can go inside and check out your new digs, you notice those two goony-looking dudes from the lobby walking in your direction at a rather deliberate pace. Perhaps they're going to welcome you to the place or show you where the ice machine is.
  • Uncool. This card has apparently expired. You never did get to see the room you paid for. Oh well, chances are you really didn't miss anything.
  • It's the hotel's not-so-elegant upstairs hallway.
  • Don't, you'll smudge the highly polished window. (Yeah, right. Even you can clean a window better than that.)
  • A sign in the hazy distance indicates the presence of some huge conglomerate.
  • Even though the idea of acquiring a souvenir swatch of the Dew Beam Inn excites you, you come to your senses and move on. (You didn't actually come to your senses. You just forgot what you were doing.)
  • The walls are covered with a thick carpet-like material, perhaps to drown out noise. What kind of noise might come from this place? That's something you'd be better off not thinking about.
  • The window offers you a prime view of the baby-spew-brown skyline of Polysorbate LX.
  • Nope. Doesn't work in this one.

222.msgEdit

  • Hey!
  • He ignores you. Get used to it.
  • He's too far away or doesn't care.
  • No, that wouldn't be wise.
  • Oh, I forgot. We don't do wisdom in these games.
  • You consider it, but decide it's something best not done.
  • Bad idea.
  • Bad idea. Let's pretend you didn't seriously consider that.
  • What is that? It looks like a punk grasshopper. What would Darwin think of this place?
  • Wow, a great woolly vulture. It resembles a hairy embryo.
  • That guy looks like a walking green fleshbulb and his eyes look like filaments, and ... WHOA!!! Must be a janitorial flashback!
  • Check out the knuckles on that thing. This planet is starting to remind you of some sort of genetic playground.
  • Not unlike your fellow humans, they pay you no mind.
  • There's got to be an optics problem with that machine. I look, uh, partially digested.
  • Good thing you didn't opt for that second set of prints after all. Guess that guy won't be filing any complaints with the Portable Business Association.
  • You pop a coin in the slot and climb on in.
  • All right! I'm looking pretty good. Fire away.
  • It's unmoved by your touch.
  • How much pain are you willing to subject yourself to? Weren't those first pictures bad enough? I know, what a dumb question. You've been doing it for years. Why change now?
  • It's one of those new Qodrac mobile photo booths. I heard they were beta-testing those.
  • It's just that strange photo booth again.
  • Let's not and say we did.
  • It's one of those Bjorn guys. It's so cute when they talk about assimilating everyone.
  • YES!!! ... Uh, I mean, Mr. Wilco, I'm most pleased you've chosen to do business with us. You're just in time, too. I have another party on his way interested in the same item. Oh well, his loss.
  • Well, I'll take that off your hands.
  • Uh, now, per our agreement, here's your cheat sheet. I'm certain you'll find the game much more interesting now.
  • Also, you look like you could use this fish.
  • Enjoy, Mr. Wilco. I have, uh, real important business in another part of town. Be seeing you.
  • Oh, by the way, I'd appreciate if you'd not mention our meeting to anyone. Some of those purple-skulled old stockholders really hold a grudge, okay? Buh-bye.
  • Look at him. Do you really think that's a wise idea?
  • Elmo has definitely taken a turn for the worse. You'd like to think it was your exit from the admittedly captive rank of that off-world sweat-orb, Scumsoft Inc. It was probably something dumb like a compulsion for pet projects or personally beneficial programs over those things important to the company as a whole. Nah, that couldn't be it.
  • No! Can it be? It is! It's Elmo Pug, the former CEO of Scumsoft. Hard times have hit him like a ball peen hammer between the, uh, eyes. Maybe there is a karma fairy.
  • Say, you look familiar. Didn't I kick your butt in a huge robot once?
  • Oh, yeah, that. I hoped to forget that. It was the beginning of my undoing. I was a laughingstock around the company in the final days of Scumsoft. Oh well, if that hadn't gotten me, some of my other creative management techniques would have.
  • In looking at the big picture, I suppose that arrangement left me with all of my physical assets intact. Not a single other thing, unfortunately. I'm humiliated to admit that I have, on rare occasion, resorted to selling cheat sheets for arcade games.
  • I've got to maintain a fairly, uh, modest profile, I guess you could say. Time heals wounds and all that. Plus, maybe I can avoid a premature termination.
  • (BORED) Wow, that's all very interesting.
  • And very boring, if you don't mind my saying. What I want to know is, can you sell me a cheat sheet for Stooge Fighter 3?
  • Well, I think I may be able to facilitate that. I may have one in stock. Okay, here's what I need from you: a nice new bottle of Coldsorian Brandy. If you can deliver that, I think we can call it a deal.
  • My people ... I mean, I'll be waiting to take delivery from you so that we can put a bow on this deal. Catch you later.
  • I hope you're here to remit your portion of the business arrangement. We need to put this thing to bed. Otherwise, you should leave. I do have other contacts interested.
  • He blows you off since your business has been completed. How corporate of him.
  • Get out of my face or I'll puke on your boots!
  • It would be wise to avoid that foul fluid.
  • Trapped quantities of atmospheric discharge fill depressions in the street surface. The combination of H2O and atmospheric toxins helps to create a delightful reflective sheen.
  • I can't take him like that. Find something cool to put him in. The last thing I need is for him to thaw before I take him in.
  • Uh, Buddy, maybe you can help me out. I'm trying to track down this endodroid. I'm an Endodroid Runner. I know I don't look so hot but I'm in disguise, you know?
  • In disguise? Yeah, you do look disguised. I just don't know what like. Hey, here's a tip. Think seriously about a flea dip.
  • I could really use your help gettin' this one. I've had a helluva time trackin' him down.
  • You've gotta help me. Tell you what. If you can find and immobilize this bionic beer opener, it's worth fifty buckazoids to ya'. What do you say to that?
  • I've scoured this dung heap and haven't seen synthetic hide nor hair of him. All that's left to check is that bar. I'd go in there myself, ya' see, but I've had a little misunderstanding with the management. No biggie. I'm sure it'll blow over soon.
  • Anyway, can you help me out? Whaddaya say? Fifty buckazoids. And if you don't mind me sayin' it, you look like you could use it. So how about it?
  • Well, I don't know. What's this endodroid thing look like? And why do you want it?
  • Well, he's about your height, only maybe a few inches higher.
  • And I'd say about your weight, give or take 60 pounds or so. But then, that's just probably because of that stuff he's made of. Kind of a liquid metal thing, but that's not important. He's got a crewcut and I think he was wearin' a long dark coat. Has a strange accent.
  • But why do you want him?
  • Oh, he made some people mad.
  • How?
  • Oh, I guess he sort of jumped out of his program and kind of killed and/or mangled a score or so of co-workers and, more importantly, management personnel. A big no-no.
  • No big deal. I just got to take him in for analysis and processing. It could help pull me out of my, uh, unfortunate cash flow situation. And most importantly, it can mean fifty buckazoids for you. Whaddaya say?
  • Well, I could use the buckazoids. I'll see what I can do.
  • Great! You won't regret it. You're gonna need this datacorder. It's been modified to only be sensitive to certain unique components like droidium, something only an endodroid would be composed of. This'll help you root him out. Good luck! Uh, I mean, let me know when you've got him.
  • Thanks. I've gotta go check in with the home office. I'll check back out here a little later to see how you're comin' along.
  • Hmm. I wonder if you ... nah. What was I thinkin'?
  • Are you crazy? Let him get his own.
  • Here's a hint: avoid direct contact with beings with personal hygiene worse than your own.
  • Here's your cubed compadre. Where's my fifty buckazoids?
  • No bull?! You really got him, eh? Uh, I mean, good job.
  • Yeah, I really got him. And I could really use my fifty buckazoids.
  • Tell you what. I'll pay you when they pay me.
  • No. I need the money now, or I let the guy thaw right here, right now.
  • Now, just a minute! You don't wanna do that! Hold on to your alimentary contents! I got it here. I got it here.
  • Here, you happy? I'll just be taking that tray. It's been a special treat doin' business with you.
  • That's a real nice tray. How proud you must be!
  • It's that runner guy.
  • This guy looks like he should be standing watch around one of those barrels. He has a bit of a nervous look about him.
  • Just find the endodroid, little guy. I'll talk to you later.
  • He seems to be anxious to get somewhere else and ignores you.
  • He gives you a long look, then exhibits a facial expression not unlike that of one who has just found some special treat stuck underneath the table.
  • I can't take him like that. Find something cool to put him in. The last thing I need is for him to thaw before I take him in.

240.msgEdit

  • They don't seem to give an orat's vas.
  • You give the bell a pass with your hand. The manager doesn't exactly spring to life in response, but he does stir a bit and grants you a segment of one eye.
  • An electronic proximity sensor-activated bell, probably used to signal for attention, rests on the counter.
  • Yes, it's tough to fight the urge, but you're on vacation. Leave the threadbare, spew-strewn carpet alone.
  • Nice carpet. It's hard to decide which wear patterns are more intriguing -- those created by decades of feet and hoofs, or those created by the rodent population.
  • Don't bother. The best upholsterers in Tijuana couldn't help with these things.
  • The couch and chair seem to be made of some of the universe's finest Elveteen material, the official velvet of the Presley Estate.
  • Those are some interesting-looking dudes. Must be a couple of real losers since they seem to be dateless. Of course, that won't be a problem for you once word gets around that you've hit the planet.
  • Can you believe he actually thinks that?
  • You give the counter a tap, mistakenly assuming that the being behind it actually cares what you want.
  • The desk, while mimicking some control console look, serves as not much more than a place for the desk clerk to rest his heavily-bunioned hind feet.
  • It's empty. Without content. Void of mass -- a state you're familiar with.
  • It says "If you have a buckazoid, give a buckazoid; if you need a buckazoid take a buckazoid." Not too surprisingly, it's empty.
  • Hey! Where you goin', Son? That's for paying customers only.
  • An elevator. Boy, this place has everything.
  • Forget it. I don't give no discounts no matter who you belong to.
  • I'm sure he'd like that, but you'd better hang on to what you've got. You never know when you'll need it.
  • Okay, Son. You just scribble your ol' Bill Shatner on the register screen and I'll get your keycard. It's as fine a room as you'll find on this orb.
  • You have a brief moment of what you think is cleverness.
  • You decide to wittily sign the name "Fronzel Neekburm".
  • Okay, here's your keycard. Don't lose it. Room 1220 J. Up the elevator.
  • Fronzel Neekburm. If I had a buckazoid for every time I've seen that name I'd be sittin' pretty. I could afford one of those fancy furlined doughnut thingies ... uh, what was I sayin'?
  • Anyway, enjoy your stay. If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell someone.
  • Gee, thanks. Say, could you tell me where ...
  • I'm a real busy guy, Son. You got any questions, why dontcha just go find the Chamber of Commerce and talk to them? I'm sure they'll be glad to help you out. Be seeing ya.
  • Hey, what's the deal?! Come back when you get some more allowance, Sonny.
  • That's not recommended. That'll either get an appendage removed, or a date you really don't want.
  • That's the manager of this little slice o' heaven. He looks like he's an expert on energy conservation -- mainly his.
  • The only thing that really talks to him is money.
  • He seems to be ignoring you.
  • Uh, excuse me. I'd like a room, please.
  • REALLY?! I mean, uh, really? Well I think we got one er two for a couple a hundred buckazoids a night -- IN ADVANCE, you understand.
  • (SMUGLY) I believe I have a prepaid reservation provided me by StarCon.
  • I've got no reservations from any StarCon. I got no reservations, period! I do a cash business. You want a room, cough up the buckazoids.
  • So that's, uh, two hundred? Well, okay.
  • Two hundred? Don't you listen, Son? I said THREE hundred. That's three hundred a night. And that don't include any weird pets. (THEN QUIETLY) Them's extra.
  • I could've sworn you said ...
  • You calling me a liar? I don't need no guff from the likes of you. This is the finest lodging on the planet, Son. If you don't like the prices you can just take your sorry pinkish carcass outta here.
  • Well, uh, three hundred? Okay. Uh, but give me your finest room then.
  • The finest room. Yeah, right. (SNICKERS TO HIMSELF) You got it, Buckaroo. The best in the house. (Hee) Comin' right up. Pay up and we're in business.
  • I'm busy, Son. When you give me 300 buckazoids, then we'll talk. I'm real busy. See ya.
  • Listen, I got no time allocated for deadbeats. I'm a busy executive. You want a room, you gotta shell out the units. Don't bug me unless you're serious about doin' some business. Now beat it. Tourists! My job would be so much easier without 'em.
  • Nah, I don't think so. We're pretty good about letting you carry a lot of junk around, but you really don't need this.
  • At some time in a life that might have existed eons ago, these ghosts of flora past might have been called plants.
  • Mother Teresa, the Pope, and Jimmy Carter could all talk to this plant until they were blue in the face and beating on each other, and it would still do no good.
  • Hey! Keep your grubby mitts off that! Have a nice day.
  • That's the inn's transaction register.
  • Nice place, if you're a fan of dives.
  • The proprietor will never give up the remote.
  • Ah, this place still has those old-style ray projection infomercial viewers. What rubes!

250.msgEdit

  • Hmmmm. What's special about this Abby Normal guy?
  • Good night, Mr. Feldman, wherever you are.
  • I'm sure you'd love to be able to play with it. You've always wanted to. That just isn't on the agenda this game, Roger.
  • That one there's a beaut. Has a dang airbag built right in. Great for when your beast's motorskills just aren't up to par.
  • Oh, they were designed during the days of warp drive testing. They didn't always pick clean courses to test run in them days and there would be an occasional warp speed asteroid strike which, of course, resulted in a seriously non-graceful, uh ... deceleration, you might say.
  • What's this? Rabbit ears for a computer monitor? Eh, that's fresh.
  • Don't touch that sign, Son.
  • Now, wait a minute. There's somethin' familiar about you.
  • Brain Dead(tm) products have been a staple of the homebuilt being hobbyist for decades now. They make a fine line of adaptor plugs which allow for cross-species component swapping. Means you'll be able to pick up parts anywhere other beings exist. Nice deal, eh?
  • They also make a pretty fine "moddie". Get tired of what kind of mood your droid, or spouse for that matter, is in, why you just slap in one of those babies and bingo, you can modify them into a whole new attitude. Find a wife-type who won't pay some big buckazoids for that!
  • Too bad the sale of them is illegal. About all I do is trade for 'em. It's one of them loopholes, guess you could say. Kinda developed a hobby of collectin' the suckers.
  • Now you know what happened to the infamous R2 line of droids. They've been reduced to carrying out the most trivial of tasks. Fester's using one for a Genblood blender. How sad.
  • The R2 line of droids seemed like the hottest thing going in their day. Then they that found that one little flaw in the programming. Unfortunately, the princess' personal life will never be quite the same.
  • The drawers seem to be crammed with moddies -- plug-in modification implants -- and the various adapters necessary to make them work universally.
  • Fester has quite a collection of these, which is surprising. The sale of those things was banned years ago.
  • Don't screw with it. It's already on its last leg.
  • It's a marketing device for Dumb(tm). They design and manufacture a wide variety of implants, prosthetics, and conversion attachment kits. Hopefully, their product is better made than their sign is.
  • Hello there, Mr. Blatz. I think I have something you might be interested in.
  • Think so, eh?
  • Oh, I really think you'll find it interesting.
  • Oooooo!!
  • Why, I'd love to take that off your hands.
  • Of course, you realize that it's illegal to sell those, but I could trade you for something. Look around and see what interests you.
  • I could really use a cyberspace jack.
  • Tell ya' what, I'll trade you for one of those fine specimens in the case. Whadda ya' say?
  • No, I want the jack or it's no deal.
  • Oh, now take it easy, Sonny. I think we can do business.
  • Here ya' go.
  • I'm glad you see it my way.
  • It's been a pleasure. Take care, Fester. I gotta fly.
  • The past few years have been no kinder to Fester than all the previous ones. He still has that nasal cavity-molded look with no discernible skeletal features.
  • Fester's from a rare rhinosupial species where the babies are born, but climb into their parents' cavernous noses where they continue to grow until they fall out from their sheer weight. (Or from a real good sneeze from their parental unit.)
  • Yikes! Can it be? Why, yes, it is. It's Fester, Fester Blatz. Former owner and proprietor of Fester's World O' Wonders, a cheesy little tourist trap on the desert planetoid of Phleebhut.
  • The t-shirt looks -- and, unfortunately, smells -- like the same one he wore on Phleebhut. He has the expression of someone enjoying a permanent wedgie.
  • He has aged somewhat. Looks like he's grown a few more neck rings. These last few years have been rough on him. From what you remember of him, he used to be kind of an aqua blue. Now he looks like a used LungLiner(tm) or the color of a Vorillian miner's loogie.
  • Uh, hmm. (THROAT CLEARING NOISE)
  • Howdy, Stranger. The name's Blatz, Fester Blatz. Welcome to Implants-N-Stuff. Go ahead. Have a look around at some of the most interesting replacement body components this lovely planetoid has to offer.
  • Oh, a nice fresh salespitch.
  • I have just the thing for you.
  • Go ahead and look around, Pardner. I'll be glad to answer any questions you might have about my fine line of merchandise. Yes, siree. Have a look.
  • Well, I'll tell ya', I kind of hate the idea of openin' that up right now. Ya see, we had a power outtage a few weeks back and my, uh, service hasn't gotten over here to clean it out yet. That cranial fluid is some skank spew when it warms up. Phew!
  • Well, come on back by next week and maybe we'll have some.
  • Yeah, sometimes when you do a lot of cranial work, you gotta replace the fluid so the old brain isn't just bouncin' around in there like a BB. But then, you're probably already used to that.
  • This one's labelled "Fresh". By the looks of things around here, fresh is a VERY relative term.
  • You really have no need for one of those.
  • Well, actually, you might look into an upgrade sometime soon. You just don't need any of these right now. More important tasks await your attention.
  • Yep, it's the new Neebike Pump Brain(tm)! Only one on the planetoid -- uninstalled, that is. These babies are great when you've left the lab in a hurry and forgotten those darn cranial measurements. Stuff one of these in that cranial hatch, pump, pump, pump, pump, and wham! You're in business.
  • Oh, by the way, those aren't real webs in the case there -- why, I, uh ... forgot to take those down from the Halloween sale is all. Yeah. I wouldn't want you to think I was some slob running a cheesy joint here.
  • That's not too wise. One should be prudent when one has so little to sacrifice in the first place.
  • Yeah, this is the only place on the planet to get a good lobe piercing, I tell ya'. And even though we don't have to, we do use only LorShann quality body part piercing products. Less chance of pus build-up and drainage that way. That stuff tends to dull the urithrium coating on the hardware.
  • Don't mess with that. It's old.
  • Wow, an Apple ][+ running Biorhythms! You thought IBM had rounded all those up and landfilled them decades ago back when Apple started the push to open home computing to the public, making it fun and accessible.
  • Careful, Boy. You don't want to be prickin' yourself with one of those. They aren't approved for first species use. We pick 'em up used from organ pirates who specialize in harvesting stuff from battle zones. Wouldn't want you to go mentionin' that to anyone, you understand.
  • Them's syringes you can use with lidocaine, if you got some. Sometimes you gotta give ol' Butch a jump-start right at first.
  • So this is where old Fester ended up after the total collapse of the never-thriving tourist trade on that sandy planetoid Phleebhut. He seems to know how to land on his feet -- no matter how fungally challenged they may be.
  • Well geez, Guy, I seem to be a little short on these right now. Slide on by in a month or two and I should be all stocked up again. Sorry about that.
  • Yeah, I just got them in a few months ago. Fresh from the harvesting facility. Genuine Dumb(tm) brand cranial stalks. Perfect for when just one or two accidental nicks from those amateur scalpels can render your homebuilt being useless as lips on a ... oh, never mind.
  • Just rip out that old stalk and slam in one of these little beauties and your homebuilt being will be carrying out your bidding in no time -- guaranteed!
  • It's empty. Picking up useless items like that will only serve to clutter up your inventory window ... er, I mean pocket.
  • An empty tank of Genblood sits in the dust. A generic synthetic blood which was originally designed for use as a temporary blood substitute in the event of traumatic loss, it has become a favorite in the u-build-a-beast brotherhood.

260.msgEdit

  • So much for the keyring.
  • From Datacorder to Homing Beacon -- Fast!
  • Yes, you too can make a homing beacon from simple household goods. Chief among the devices you can use is the datacorder, which with a few adjustments sends out a powerful signal to potential rescuers who could be light years away.
  First, open your datacorder. Inside you'll find chips, irk settings, and plates. If you correctly alter these settings, you'll soon be home by the fire with a cup of nog. Of course, any mistakes could result in a barbecue with you as the entree. But let's not worry about that!
  • We'll describe the details in the next issue!
  • EMail Shopping With No Buckazoids
  • EShop with absolutely nothing in the accounts. It's easy ... when you know the system.
  • First, random-gen approximately 32 four-by-four numbers and pick a month and year. These will be your challenge charge cards. Make up a name (NOT Neekburm, please!) and start calling ECatalog stores.
  • The idea is to make the calls fast, and give them the challenge card numbers before they can trace the call. As most hackoids know, there are so many cards out there that the probability of one of your challenge cards being a used number is practically 100 percent!
  • Remember, don't skimp. You're spending other people's buckazoids, so go for it!
  • Mired EMag: Hot Journalism or Hot Air?
  • We've all heard the hype. Mired EMag is the hottest, hippest, hip-hoppinest thing to happen to journalism since Guttenburg invented that big printer thingie. But is it the EMag of the future, or is it just another CyberVogue knockoff with some fancy schmancy art?
  You be the judge. The last issue featured an article on SmartDrugStores on Celine-Dion; a list of the latest technogibberish; and a review of Waterworld. Are these subjects cool, or do they leave you cold?
  • Make A Time Machine out of a DeLorean!
  • Chances are you're too young to remember a quaint little movie about a fellow named Marty McFly, but he and his friend Doc started a trend that has become a popular pursuit among time-traveling hobbyists: making time machines out of DeLorean cars.
  DeLoreans aren't easy to find these days: they went out of fashion when John DeLorean went in the slammer. But if you have the luck to come across one of these babies, the universe and all its time zones -- and we mean ALL its time zones -- can be yours. Happy hunting!
  • In Search of the Elusive Multiple Organism.
  • Since the dawn of time, men and women have searched for the multiple organism. Some say that it is just a myth. Others claim that it existed at one time, but that the effects of toxic waste, pollution, and electromagnetic forces throughout the universe have made the multiple organism extinct.
  This writer, for one, has searched all her adult life for the excitement of contact with one of these elusive creatures. The thought of seeing a multiple organism sends a thrill through me. I hope with my entire essence that multiple organisms do exist on some level, and that one day I may meet up with one of them, just to say "hi."
  • You won't be needing any empty cans. A gas mask won't help you in this game.
  • You can't reach the can in your present predicament.
  • Your captors have obviously been drinking mass quantities of that new imported beer, Tecate Wormhole.
  • Considering who else has drunk from that can, you would be foolhardy to apply your lips to the same surface.
  • Even if you were loose, you wouldn't want to swap spit with the can of AlanDean Foster's.
  • Her skin feels puffy and rubbery, as if her internal body pressure has risen. It must be Rigelian Bladderwort Fever!
  • You can't reach her from here! Drat the luck!
  • This alien woman looks to be in very bad shape. Her pupils are fixed and dilated. Her body is stiff, almost as if she's dead, and her skin looks tight and puffy as if bodily gases are building up inside her. Bandages and patches appear in profusion all over her, and some of her seams look like they're about to give way.
  • You make a mental note to come back and rescue this poor woman.
  • I'm Roger Wilco of the SCS DeepShip 86. Can I get you anything? Water? Food? Some duct tape? ArmorAll? Are you okay? You look bloated.
  • Psssst! Maybe if we work together, we can get out of here!
  • She doesn't respond. Perhaps she's a form of life you don't know how to communicate with. Or, more likely, she's purposely ignoring you.
  • Surprisingly, it's a pile of books. Who'd have thought these guys could read?
  • You don't see any way of turning the dehumidifer off.
  • You struggle, but it's simply out of your grasp.
  • Like algebra.
  • This little unit is a portable dehumidifier. When you're a guy like Singent, who sweats like a Bicranial Crudsnorter, you need one of these things going all the time.
  • If you're trying to dry your mouth off, you could always just spit.
  • Your tongue isn't quite long enough to reach that.
  • Your search through the CDs reveals a bunch of typically boring multimedia magazines.
  • A multimedia phone book. Too bad there aren't any phones around here.
  • The Outpost project survival guide.
  • Successful people managing techniques by Karm Treebis. (Funny -- it's empty.)
  • MF DOS for idiots, morons and feebs.
  • Touring Xenon on five buckazoids a day.
  • Discovering your inner maggot.
  • How to become assigned to being a corporate creative genius without really trying.
  • Hmmm. This might be worth checking out. It's a copy of Popular Tecktronics.
  • You should have paid attention the first time. This game's budget is way too small to allow me to list all those titles over again.
  • I'd better not try it. He might see me.
  • You're tied up; hence, you can't do that.
  • There seems to be a small pile of CD ROMs sitting here.
  • It's a somewhat damaged CD ROM disc.
  • Even though you may not realize it now, you really don't want to touch the chair where that guy had his posterior placed.
  • This is one of the places those lardmasters rest their bloated gluts.
  • It does nothing until you insert a 3DOA-compatible disc.
  • This optical disc-based multimedia entertainment system has a slew of powerful graphics and audio co-processors, a unique flexible architecture, is extremely high-priced, and plays a half-dozen really bad arcade games.
  • It's called a "3DOA."
  • The computer isn't very sophisticated and does not respond to voice commands.
  • This is the datacorder you got from that endodroid hunter dude.
  • The desk feels more or less as flimsy as it looks.
  • The desk looks rubbery and flimsy.
  • (It must be one of those floppy desks!)
  • You don't see much of anything worth taking here.
  • The stuff up there certainly looks interesting from down here, but it's out of reach right now.
  • The desk is littered with juvenile multimedia comic books.
  • Oh, excuse me very much, multimedia "graphic novels."
  • It's apparently programmed to be locked, perhaps to prevent unauthorized entry.
  • It is non-functional. I'll bet you're really bummed about that.
  • If you'd get up off your lazy, er, posterior, perhaps you could perform that act.
  • This keypad undoubtedly controls the doorway.
  • You're reasonably certain that this door won't budge without a keycard of some sort.
  • There is a massive door leading into the next room.
  • Hey, open 'er up and let's jam.
  • Yeah, right. Like that'll work. You've been kidnapped. Remember?
  • It's the arrow for scrolling down.
  • You carefully lay the rug on the floor. Even though you were never known for your interior decorating talents, you feel very satisfied with the location you have chosen.
  • We wanted to give you the bird, but the censors wouldn't let us.
  • A bathtub toy sits on the floor. You find this very confusing in light of the fact that there's no olfactory evidence that your captor has ever taken a bath.
  • This button ejects whatever CD is in the machine, thus the clever naming convention.
  • Smooth move! You've got his keyring.
  • This button allows you to go to a given location on the CD.
  • You are now a proud nail owner.
  • You don't know what that is, but you keep seeing it above people's garage doors. It must be some sort of anti-theft device!
  • It's just out of reach.
  • It's the keyring that doofus hung on the wall after the other doofus left.
  • There's no time to mess with that. You have escaping to do.
  • A desk lamp casts a sickly glow over your captor. Or maybe the lamp is off and it's your captor who's casting the sickly glow.
  • It's the CD ROM drive for the 3DOA machine.
  • You now possess the moddie.
  • It's a burlesque moddie!
  • A nail protrudes from the wall. How novel.
  • This symbol is all the rage among teenagers in the quadrant. None of the adults knows what it means, but it's shorthand for "No sign of life!"
  • A beautiful thick shag carpet of Pelvis Brelsford, the rock 'n' roll programming sensation, adorns the east wall of this grungy apartment.
  • A beautiful thick shag carpet of Pelvis Brelsford.
  • The Pelvis rug is arranged nicely on the floor.
  • This poster is from that new graphic novel series about the sewer worker who doubles as a psychic investigator. You think it's called "GABRIEL NORTON."
  • Sorry, but the posters have to stay.
  • Besides, who needs posters you can't unroll the next day.
  • It's Cindy Crawfish, a beautiful merwoman and spokesmodel from one of those beach-strewn wimpy watery planets like Aquaria or Oceana or Wateria.
  • It's Kathy Mireland, an attractive model with gills from one of those stinky swamp-like planets like Mudoria or Slimeon or Mucksilon IV.
  • It looks like the lead singer for that new death metal band, The Disgruntled Postalworkers.
  • This button is designed to print what is on the screen.
  • Too bad it doesn't work.
  • I'm not touching that, and you can't make me!
  • Way too disgusting!
  • I'm not gonna put my lips on that!
  • It looks like a plug receptor.
  • Your body is now carrying a nice static charge.
  • You're already carrying enough energy to power a small planetoid. You couldn't generate more energy if you were wearing a polyester leisure suit.
  • Good thinking! The nail proves to be just what you needed to free yourself from those handcuffs.
  • Don't get all excited, Little Red Riding Hood. You aren't out of those woods yet.
  • Unlike before, the room no longer gives off a subsonic vibration.
  • Either that or the batteries in someone's Pro Shiatsu have worn out.
  • The room seems to be vibrating very slightly. This would probably indicate a damping field in operation somewhere close by.
  • Either that or someone downstairs is using a Pro Shiatsu.
  • You have no idea where this place is, but it's nice to see that "grunge" has finally hit the interior decorating industry.
  • You get a jump on your senility by talking to inanimate objects NOW rather than in fifty years.
  • It's a short-pile polystyrene rug with the ubiquitious "Have a Cyclopean Day" symbol.
  • They ripped off an "Alien Crossing" sign. How sophomoric!
  • What do you want to do -- give him a nice massage? Wise up! This guy values you less than StarCon does.
  • He doesn't look so tough now. Still, I have no urge to touch him.
  • Wow! The static energy you built up discharged, frying lard boy's circuitry! Did you actually think of that or was it just luck?
  • It's one of those wads of lard you ran into at the inn.
  • What are you going to talk to him about, the weather?!
  • Now just sit there and be still and be quiet, Little Man. I've got some things to finish, before I finish you.
  • You puny little scumbag. I can't believe anyone would want you. One thing's for sure; you sure ain't gonna be seein' your home sun ever again.
  • Hey, Nigel, let's get back to it, huh?! We got things to do and places to go.
  • How groovy, they've got a neon sign for Spore Beer: "Spore yourself a tall, frosty one!"
  • Clever! They're using an old video cable spool as a table! Gee, don't let any college kids hear about THIS, they'll ALL want to do it!
  • Teddy Shmuxpin, a popular children's toy, sits on the floor. If you're weren't a popular child, you didn't get one.
  • Hey, what the phu...! I don't want to see you move another inch or I'm gonna slice ya' into nice little bite-sized pieces. Now can it!
  • Table of Contents
  • That's one of those devices for catching wayward audio-video signals from distant galaxies. You once saw a horribly violent transmission on one of these, where strange-looking aliens mercilessly struck each other in vulnerable areas while others looked on in enjoyment.
  • It was called "America's Funniest Home Videos" or something like that.
  • Due to the planetary location of this unit, it can't keep a steady picture for very long. And as is universally known, the local cable company will get around to fixing it at THEIR convenience. And who knows, you might get lucky and get another shopping channel or country/western station in the process.
  • It's that popular pin-up alien, Krille MacPherson, the one that poses all over Time Pods in Space Piston Magazine!
  • Just watch that MacPherson strut!
  • This the arrow for scrolling up.

270.msgEdit

  • Hmm. Doesn't seem to work here.
  • Hey! Here's your fish!
  • Thinking it was the churlish moddie, he pops it in place.
  • It's the belt that big guy was wearing.
  • It has a couple of things attached to it.
  • You poke around and look for something useful, but since you're not exactly Mr. Subspace Neurotransmitter Repair Guy, none of it appeals to you.
  • The carton is full of spare parts and tools to keep the Subspace Neurotransmitter in operation: an acetylcholine torch, a bunch of axon terminals, a cell receptor, and a new package of postsynaptic membranes.
  • Warning to phenylketonurics: contains phenylalanine.
  • You rummage around in the box to look for something useful, but all you find is an almost complete set of "Line Dancing in Zero-G" Daddies. Only Volume 2, The Achy Breaky, appears to be missing.
  • This box is full of daddies. Daddies are modules which, when inserted into intercranial slots, give the user complete knowledge of whatever topic is programmed into that particular Daddie.
  • You poke and prod amongst the moddies until you find ...
  • ... a moddie labelled "churlish." Being intrigued by the word, you glom it.
  • Incidentally, you might want to look up the word "churlish" before you do anything "stupid."
  • You pick through the carton of moddies and find ...
  • ... nothing else of interest.
  • A box of moddies -- behavioral modification neurocircuit chips -- lies under the desk.
  • You wave at the skyline.
  • Look! Some nerd on the sidewalk thinks you're waving to him! He's waving back! How friendly!
  • Oh, he's got a gun.
  • The cityscape stretches like an immense pestilent rash across the puckered, festering face of Polysorbate LX.
  • Ah, pretty!
  • Yeah, you reach through that damping field and you'll draw back a dripping wad of demolecularized flesh. It does look pretty cool though. Maybe when we have more time we can come back and try it.
  • Dee-licious!
  • Thank goodness. Now that you've got that damping field shut off, you can check out that Damping Field Controller Unit, so that maybe you can shut off that ... that ...
  • Oh yeah. That's a real sound idea! You have no REASON to check out the Damping Field Controller Unit now!
  • This appears to be a Damping Field Controller Unit. At least, it looks like most of the other damping field controller units you've ever seen, and you've seen quite a few.
  • The Damping Field is actually incredibly unaffected by that action.
  • It's a Damping Field.
  • Unfortunately, your brainwave patterns are far too puny to benefit from even this unit's powerful positronic amplifiers.
  • A massive subspace neurotransmitter fills the desk. Amplified by brainwave patterns, neurotransmissions are not affected by local damping fields.
  • But you already knew that, right?
  • Pushing the button seems to have caused a reduction of humming in the room. Perhaps you've killed the damping field.
  • While that's an interesting idea, it won't help.
  • There's a remote control button of some kind on this thing attached to the belt.
  • With the Damping Field deactivated, these lights are warm but otherwise create no strange tingly feelings of sudden death.
  • The archway glows with the energy of a damping field.
  • (No wonder it's so humid in here.)
  • That isn't within reach.
  • A small decorative novelty lamp displays bolts of electronic discharge. They were quite the rage a century or two ago.
  • Another one of those formerly trendy bolt discharge lamps sits on the console top.
  • There is nothing wrong with the subspace neurotransmitter control controller. Do not attempt to adjust the controller. We are controlling transmission. We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical. We can change your mind to a soft blur, or sharpen it to crystal clarity.
  • This controller controls the controls on the subspace neurotransmitter.
  • Geez, is this guy a control freak, or what?
  • It's the one called Nigel -- the larger of the two mass-laden brothers.
  • Well, well, well, the worm is out of the hole, so ...
  • You have to ask yourself, "Do I feel lucky?"
  • Well, do I punk? ...
  • Go away.
  • You take it into possession.
  • It looks like one of those nifty Personal Grooming Assistants.
  • You briefly consider adjusting the Serotonin Re-Uptake Inhibitor, but hey, you've been kidnapped. No way you're going to provide free maintenance service to these guys.
  • This is a Serotonin Re-Uptake Inhibitor for the Subspace Neurotransmitter.
  • Don't go messing with it, you could create a chemical imbalance and depress an entire planet! (Ooh, did we just catch a glimpse of Space Quest Seven's plot?)
  • Don't remove this poster, it's covering up a mistake in the background painting.
  • It's just another picture of a heavenly body.
  • You've never been a big C/W fan. In fact, it is your belief that country and western music was outlawed hundreds of years ago in an attempt to reduce alcoholism.
  • Wow! That's a signed poster of the lead singer for that Country/Western band, Hall 'n' Asz!
  • Nothing happens. Maybe something needs to be plugged into the plug opening.
  • It looks like a plug receptor.
  • The room seems to be vibrating ever so slightly, the telltale residue of a local damping field.
  • The room is no longer giving off that low-level hum.
  • This appears to be some sort of control room. There's a landing platform beyond the damping field induction coils in the archway.
  • Boy, this terrace is a nice change from the stink-laden confines of that apartment.
  • You know the old saying: if the Monoamine Oxidase Inhibitor ain't broke, don't fix it.
  • As if you could, anyway.
  • This Monoamine Oxidase Inhibitor brightens up an otherwise depressing room.

280.msgEdit

  • Roger, you're enough of a mess when you're straight. Getting a buzz will certainly not help.
  • These cans of Heinleinekin's have been sitting here since Lazarus! "Heinleinekin's ... The Strange Beer in a Strange Can."
  • Pa keeps some of the more expensive stuff back here, like Jurassic Dark, Raymond E. Feisterbrau and Samuel Douglas Adams.
  • Behind Pa is what looks to be some special stock. It's not quite the rocket fuel grade dreck to be found on the regular shelves.
  • Ooh, you've got a good eye, this stuff is excellent. It's called Something Wicked Ale, from Ray's Bradbrewery.
  • These appear to be bottles of AlanDean Foster's Draft Ale, but it's hard to tell because the labels are so faint. They must've been printed in Draft mode!
  • There's no slowing down with the Silverberg Bullet tonight!
  • Weekends were made for "Frontlob", and you wouldn't mind removing a few yourself.
  • It's just more stuff you don't need.
  • The shelves of this interesting establishment hold just about every kind of swill a buzz junkie could want. Of course, whether or not you would survive the stuff is another question.
  • This is the old guy's protective checkstand. Makes you feel real secure about the area.
  • It's the small counter at the outside edge of the protective cage.
  • What, you don't recognize that door? You entered this place through it just a short time ago.
  • The drawer is Pa's way of transferring things from his side to your side and vice versa.
  • This little flesh-wad looks familiar. You wonder what he's doing here. Must have been a victim of the telecommunications wars.
  • It's Ursula K. LeGuiness Stout, a perenially popular refreshment and winner of last year's Nebuale award.
  • Look, just behind the cans of H.P. Lovedraft and Kilgore Stout! Mmmm, they've got a few cans of Meister Brautigan, the only beer made from Watermelon Sugar.
  • It's just some green stuff.
  • Were it working, this device it, as noted on its top, would supply ice.
  • Just by looking at this place, you should realize that messing with store equipment is a truly unsafe idea.
  • They're protected in a hydrocarbonate polymer casing, making them impervious to most of the things a living organism could hurl at it.
  • A camera covers every square centimeter around the clerk just for security measures. It's amazing what kinds of crimes people will commit to get some of Pa's special stock.
  • Yikes, those liquid crystal displays ... I still have nightmares about them.
  • Not a good idea. First, you're on R&R. Secondly, based on what you've seen so far, you really don't have the stomach for The Babes of Polysorbate.
  • Interesting magazines like "This Old Planetoid" and "The Babes of Polysorbate" occupy this space.
  • There's nothing of interest there.
  • Screw with those and Pa'll raise your voice an octave or two.
  • Convex mirrors give the proprietor a nearly total view of the whole store. He's able to keep an eye out for thieving, lowlife, scumsucking maggots who might try to liberate some of his stock minus payment. Right now, he thinks you fit that profile.
  • I'd like a bottle of your Coldsorian Brandy, please.
  • Well, so you're interested in the good stuff, eh?
  • I'll just take that twenty, thank you. Haven't sold much of this stuff lately except to some sorry looking little pud. Oh, hey, that reminds me. He still owes me some money. Doh, I can't believe I fell for that scam. Oh well, enjoy. (Sucker!)
  • Crud. It looks like I still don't have enough money. This is embarrassing.
  • On Polysorbate, it appears that you only have to pay once for a purchase.
  • Pa Conshohocken sits behind the counter by his favorite possession, something he values greater than his own life, the cash register. Pa's been in business for quite a while, as his grizzled look might attest.
  • So, Pa, what's the stuff behind you?
  • Oh, that, eh? Why, that there's the good stuff, Sonny. I got some real fine stuff back here. Oh yeah, I do. That's Coldsorian Brandy. That's what that is. Best available in these parts here. Now, that's way outta your price range, I'm sure. It goes for 20 buckazoids per.
  • What? What's the problem, Sonny? Havin' trouble with the bottle? Oh yeah, those highly complex twist tops can really boggle a mind, can't they? Just grab the bottle with one hand and twist the top with the other. You'll get the hang of it. Now run along. I'm a real busy man.
  • Hi there.
  • Howdy there, Pardner. The name's Pa, Pa Conshohocken. Yeah, that's my name. I'm the proprietor of this here establishment here. Now, anything I can sell ya', why, you just let me know. But if ya' steal anything, eh, I'll be forced to kind of kill ya'. Welcome.
  • That sounds fair.
  • Got the twenty there, Buster? Otherwise, you can swill thruster drippings with the rest of the deadbeats around here. I don't mean that in a bad way, mind you.
  • Run along. I'm a real busy man.
  • Even as uninteresting as it looks, you still don't want it.
  • It's most uninteresting.
  • Despite the enticing description, you really don't need that.
  • Your mouth waters at the wine coolers ... especially this Wild Roddenberry-flavored stuff. Then again, a nice, frosty Harlon Aleison, a cold-filtered Beers Anthony, or a Marion Zima Bradley sounds good about now.
  • The imported stuff, like Sappournelle and Major Kirin, is too syrupy for your tastes.
  • This is the interior of Boot Liquor. In keeping with most of the rest of the area, there are absolutely no frills in the decor.
  • You really don't need those.
  • A stack of papers lay unattended on the floor. Apparently, Pa doesn't get in a big hurry to put stuff away. The headline reads, "Lindbergh Baby Kidnapped!"

290.msgEdit

  • You have frozen wisely.
  • Yeah, that is great improvement. Look much better now.
  • Well, he did warn you!
  • You go now and I don't rearrange your organs.
  • They're just some no-deposit empties. I don't know what comes down here but these definitely have some sort of deposit.
  • Cartons of really boring stuff like cocktail napkins and the like populate a good portion of the area down here.
  • The ceiling is cluttered with wires and conduits. Looks like some of those things do go somewhere.
  • Crates scattered around the basement hold bottles, both empty and full. By the looks of the dust, these are the least popular brands.
  • The proximity display is dark now.
  • Yikes! The datacorder's going crazy. All three LEDs are lit.
  • Two LEDs of the three on the proximity display glow now.
  • Bummer. It looks like your friend has reconstituted. This could be a painful development.
  • Yes, it looks like he's going to beat the ...
  • Yep, he sure did. Boy, that's gotta hurt.
  • Oh, not real smart.
  • This may just be your most humiliating moment ever, although it's hard to tell. There have been so many.
  • It's the endodroid -- and he's repairing himself. Yuck!
  • The endodroid is broken into nice little cube-sized pieces.
  • The endodroid is frozen quite solid.
  • Cool. Laying a solid blow upside the head of this frigid felon has reduced him to cubes. He's not too hard to handle now.
  • Hey, there. So, what's up? Pretty crappy weather we're having, don't you think?
  • Wow, so what's with the hole in your arm? That's ah, that's gotta sting.
  • My, you're a tall one. Uh, is there something I can do for you?
  • He's apparently a social minimalist. His only reaction is the kind of look that makes you want to run to the safety of your closet and assume your all-too-familiar fetal position.
  • What're you going to do, sweep him to death?
  • You quite cleverly whisk the cubed culprit into your dustpan. It's going to be tough to carry him this way, though.
  • It's just your run-of-the-mill basement floor. It keeps you from slipping to the center of the planet. Guess it's doing its job.
  • Kegs of Watney's, Red Dog, Samuel Adams ... excuse me, I need to wipe my chin.
  • A lone, bare lightbulb dangles from the ceiling, casting very little good light.
  • It's a small section of pipe, not unlike those commonly found at ice skating accidents.
  • It's a rat.
  • You've found your way to the not-so-spiffy basement of the nightclub. Numerous stock items are stored down here.
  • Frosta la keister, baby!
  • Wow! It worked. This dude's in a deep freeze. But now what are you going to do with him?
  • I wonder if these spiders jump.
  • Stairs lead back to the main floor.
  • This is one of the only open conduits.
  • They won't do you any good. They're made to run off the power supply of an endodroid, one of which you surely are not.
  • The endodroid's home surgery kit sits on the crate, but I suppose you can see that.
  • One small window once allowed light in from the outside.

300.msgEdit

  • You're not certain but you believe you heard yourself being referred to as "charm free."
  • Sounds good. You know what I'd like?
  • Here's what I'd like.
  • Uh, heh, heh. That's not a very good likeness of you, Pal. What did you do, steal it? Hey, if you was an okay guy, you'd return it to its rightful owner, you know what I mean? And if it is you, Pal, I'd consider killing whoever took it. Ooh, baby, that is ugly!
  • William Gibson
  • Asimov Cocktail
  • Fuzzy Toejam
  • Drink Choices:
  • The bartender is mixing your drink. Leave him alone and solve some puzzles or something.
  • Nah. I'll Pass.
  • Tell ya what. Give me a double shot of Black Hole with a Nozzle Juice chaser.
  • Comin' right up, Pal.
  • Special
  • Hey, yeah, yeah, hey there, Guy, come on now, hey. You can't come back here. You want something, you let me know, all right?
  • Hey, Mac, you gotta keep your can on THAT side of the bar, all right? That's the house rules. Don't make me get rough with ya', okay, huh? We're all here to have a good time, right?
  • Drat. It appears that the bartender disconnected your cleverly concocted hose link while you were gone.
  • The bartender, noticing the hose attached to the bent conduit, disconnects it -- much to your chagrin.
  • A quick look indicates that the bartender is physically well-balanced and adroit -- a good combination for this profession. The shirt would further indicate that he has the mentality for it.
  • Ah, so you're with Polysorbate Security, huh? What can I get for ya, Chief?
  • What can I do for ya there, Fella?
  • Okay, you got it, Pal.
  • You know what? I think I'll pass.
  • I got just the thing for you guys. It's something I don't even give the regulars here. Whaddaya think, eh?
  • What have you got?
  • Well, aside from the obvious stuff which is glaring in your face from the back wall here, I do make some mixed drinks. I mean, if I do say so myself, I make a pretty mean William Gibson, and a pretty good Asimov Cocktail, you know what I mean, huh? Hey, try a Fuzzy Toejam. They seem to be pretty popular with your particular species here.
  • Make me a double Uvula Spritzer, twist of fleck rind. And I want it hacked and whipped. Not like one of those shaken or stirred sissy drinks.
  • Okay, comin' right up, Chief. Listen, this'll take a couple of minutes, but, feast your eyes on the makin' of it, all right?
  • Oh, that's just fine. Take your time, my good man.
  • The large L-shaped bar, what you can see of it, looks quite spiffy. A guy could slide a mug of Keronian Ale miles on that surface.
  • Hey, hey, hey! Back off, here. Only trained professionals like yours truly are allowed to operate the Turbomincer LS.
  • What a boss blender! I'll bet they can make all kinds of foo-foo drinks in that.
  • A wide variety of concoctions fills the shelves behind the bar. There's probably something there to provide a buzz for just about any organic system.
  • Some of your personal favorites: Babylon .45, Watney's Red Planet, and Star Beck. ("Star Beck...it makes you go where no man has gone before.")
  • Now there's an interesting look. What can be said that isn't painfully obvious?
  • Bet she'll look better come closing time.
  • With a flick of your very supple wrist, you pull the conduit loose from below the valve. Oops.
  • It's solidly in place.
  • An interesting arrangement of conduits creates an almost artistic pattern to the backbar area. It's hard to tell what is merely decorative and what is functional.
  • Geez, Roger. When will you learn? In the past, that kind of behavior has led you to being sliced, diced, compacted, compressed, pureed, digested, inverted, carbogelatinized and other stuff just as interesting. It's a little early in the game to be getting your can creased.
  • So, this is where Sinead O'Connor's been hanging out.
  • She acts as though you don't exist. It's a familiar feeling.
  • I wouldn't. He's busy trying to score. And he's a lot bigger than you. You figure out the consequences of that.
  • Looks like this big furry dude is laying out his best Orlonian pick-up lines for the ice queen. It appears she's not fielding any of them.
  • Their conversation continues uninterrupted by you.
  • Oh, he's real, unfortunately.
  • Impressed by his own perceived magnificence, this wannabe babe magnet stands and just radiates "cool".
  • Can't you see he's working the room here? He's expecting a babe stampede any minute now. His lifespan, no matter how long, will never be enough. But, hey, a guy can dream.
  • You're in a public place. Have some manners!
  • You recognize the uniform of the Phistal Hemisphere Alliance.
  • No one here is interested in conversing with you. Get used to it. Don't take it personally. Maybe it's just a species thing.
  • This guy has an interesting cranial configuration.
  • Unlike that popular trunk-bearing pachyderm on that planet Earth, this guy seems to actually be drinking through his trunk. That's means he's drinking through his nose! Yuck!
  • She sure could use a No-Pest Strip.
  • This rather large individual with the headphones seems to have tuned this place out.
  • He can't hear you and, more importantly, probably doesn't want to.
  • The proximity display is dark.
  • You notice that two of the three LEDs on the proximity display of the datacorder are lit.
  • All three lights on the proximity display are lit!
  • This vertical adjustment device offers access to the loft above.
  • The floor has that universal tacky spilled-drink-and-stomach-contents feel to it.
  • The floor has the universal tacky spilled-drink-and-stomach-contents feel to it. No sense in looking. In fact, it would be in your best interests not to.
  • (OPEN FRIDGE)
  • You can't open the refrigeration unit with the hoses connected and stretched tightly across its front.
  • The refrigeration unit blends well with the design scheme.
  • Hey, when did you start knowing things like that?
  • As the sign indicates, it's a restroom. You could use it if you needed to -- which you don't.
  • You pick up the loose end of the hookah hose.
  • And mess up your great hookup job? Nah, you don't want to do that.
  • You marvel at your hookah mastery.
  • The hookah hoses are dangling from the left conduit where you left them.
  • That does it. You've plugged the hose end into the right side conduit, completing the connection. Not bad for a bucket pusher.
  • Yikes! I'll bet even old Fester Blatz hasn't seen one of these.
  • Just the same old chilled stuff.
  • The same chilled beverages are here, along with an ice cube tray of endodroid.
  • The refrigeration unit contains an ice cube tray and some chilled beverages, none of which looks very enticing to you. You have to be careful about what you consume in these universal spaceport bars. One creature's wine is another creature's bile and vice versa.
  • The hookah hose is now attached to the leftmost conduit.
  • Your organic makeup makes exposure to spewing nitro most unwise. There is no market for Rogcicles.
  • That tangled web you wove won't work like that.
  • Hey, that nitro's coming out through this conduit. Better shut the tank off before it's all wasted.
  • Nothing interesting to be seen there.
  • This door leads back out onto the street.
  • The subtle and well-designed lighting scheme distorts dimensional perception and creates an atmosphere conducive to the consumption of the very products this establishment peddles.
  • What's with the interior designer spew? You need to give some serious thought to changing reading material once you're back aboard ship. Pick up a Popular Janitronics or the special Ports Illustrated Toolbelt issue. Seriously.
  • It's unwise to mess with someone so in need of relief.
  • This guy's the next in line for the restroom. He looks a little anxious.
  • I wouldn't risk talking to one of these folks. They may just turn to face you.
  • It's one of several people dying to get into the restroom.
  • This guy wishes he had a clothes pin right about now.
  • Yep, it's the fourth guy in line for the restroom. Definitely standing room only.
  • Sorry, you can only break it. You aren't checked out in reconnection.
  • Try the other conduit first. Just for fun. Humor me.
  • You complete the connection between the two conduits.
  • That's the conduit you manhandled, you beast.
  • Well, that wasn't too bad for a borderline physical specimen like you. It didn't quite get the job done, though.
  • Nah, you still haven't convinced the door to yield to your obviously superior physical presence.
  • Wow. You really did it. Not exactly the subtlest of entry techniques, but effective. That's pretty macho for the likes of you. Who would've guessed you'd have the makings of a Starsky or a Hutch, or a Tango or a Cash.
  • (WALK ROGER TO AND THROUGH DOOR)
  • You probably wonder where that goes.
  • That's the door to the basement. Surely you remember, or is your brain full already?
  • You probably still wonder what's behind it.
  • This is the main floor of the swank lounge, Orion's Belt. This seems to be where things are happening for the slightly seedier beings of the city. As you can see, there's a pretty good cross-section of the regional population represented here.
  • It would appear that, once again, vice is a bit more profitable than most business ventures. This place is almost too hip for the planet -- but then, that's no mean feat given what a total heap this place appears to be.
  • That isn't within reach. That's back in the barkeep's turf.
  • This one doesn't spew anything.
  • Yeow! You quickly close that valve again.
  • Hmmm, there's a small valve on this conduit.

310.msgEdit

  • It's too heavy to move very far.
  • They seem to be occupied and there is no desire on their part to have you join them. Perhaps they've had their laugh for the day.
  • It's too humiliating to sit alone.
  • The booths contain some of the more low-key patrons.
  • Gee, an empty booth. Perhaps you should clean it.
  • They don't seem able, or at least are unwilling, to converse in your language.
  • If you're going to talk to yourself, at least have the courtesy to find a PRIVATE place.
  • They seem to be in use. Your rudeness would give them no compelling reason not to rearrange your appendages.
  • It's too humiliating to sit alone.
  • The chairs are serving as perches for some fairly inebriated individuals.
  • A few chairs stand in place, fearful that some perilously large payload could nearly engulf them at any moment.
  • The proximity display of the datacorder is dark.
  • One of the three lights on the datacorder's proximity display is lit.
  • Two of the three proximity display LEDs are lit.
  • They merely laugh and say something in another language that you guess is non-flattering, then continue their partying.
  • Boy, that did that make them scamper!
  • (WALK HIM OVER THERE AND DO THE ELEVATOR THING)
  • Ah, the simple things in life -- the elevator ride. To get to the planet, you were scanned down to the sub-atomic particle, transmitted hundreds of kilometers and then reconstituted in just the same unfortunate fashion in which you were scanned.
  • Despite the incredible technological feat that represents, your big thrill so far on the trip has been the elevator ride. Simple is as simple does.
  • Yes, it does need to be dusted. Don't worry about it.
  • Wow. Fancy.
  • How trendy. Cargo ship grating seems to have been used in an artsy fashion to create flooring for the loft area.
  • Hmmmm. It must be pretty interesting below when someone up here rejects whatever substances they may have consumed over the previous couple of hours.
  • No, you can't climb in.
  • Hmmm, this conduit seems to be unoccupied at the moment.
  • As much fun as is had by watching you suffer the consequences of your ill-conceived actions, I'll give you a break and merely say, "GET YOUR HEAD OUT." It's still a little too early in the game to get yourself a sound whuppin'.
  • You snag the four hoses. Never know when you're going to meet that special lady.
  • Several lengths of tubing lead from a valve array atop the tank, allowing simultaneous access to its contents.
  • My, aren't we frisky today? Get your own drink!
  • He looks lonely ... but not enough for YOUR company!
  • Woof woof. Adventure game stress must really be getting to you if you want to get romantic with THAT.
  • You can tell by the serious nature of their laughter that they're real impressed by your fake ID. Fortunately, they're just "faced" enough to not want to reshape you.
  • Your complexion's nothing to write Mary Kay about anyway. Why risk exposure to that?
  • You hear them say "Geez, our skimmer's double-hovered. We gotta run."
  • You aren't certain, but it's quite possible you were invited to establish an inordinately close relationship with yourself. Perhaps I misunderstood.
  • A pair of hefty doofi stand at the rail and just seem to giggle a lot.
  • These guys are a nicely matched set. They seem to be amusing each other to a very high degree.
  • He ignores you. Get used to it.
  • These nitro suckers come in all types. They're all drawing on the hoses. Amazingly, they don't freeze. They just glaze over for a few moments while the others laugh.
  • This one has a tattoo which says, "I love Lula."
  • He, or whatever it is, emits what you think is a dim-witted guffaw. You rarely feel so conversationally superior -- at least with animate objects.
  • You can't get the tank downstairs. This stuff is a lot denser than you imagined.
  • No, it doesn't work there.
  • The canister snaps neatly into the conduit opening.
  • Do you have a death wish or what? That's not a good idea. Trust me.
  • Nitro begins to flow through the tubing and into the conduit.
  • The nitro stops flowing.
  • It's that tank of nitro I drug over here. Weren't you paying attention?
  • The druggies are gone, leaving a partially-used nitro tank.
  • As with some other tables, a large tank marked Liquid Nitrogen sits beneath the center. It feeds the hookah manifold above. A set of hoses are within reach for each being which might be perched there.
  • Look at him. I wouldn't mess with him if I were you.
  • This guy looks like he just got back from CyberNam.
  • In this case, I'd suggest you just talk to yourself.
  • It's tough, but you repress your urge to wow the crowd with your prowess on the single even non-parallel bar.
  • The railings make a fair attempt at keeping those upstairs from unexpectedly relocating themselves downstairs, which usually results in an unpleasant experience for the faller, not to mention any potential fallees in the way.
  • The second floor of the nightclub does justice to the first.
  • Why don't you just walk up and say, "Hey, Mister, I've always wanted to catch a really good look at the inside of my colon. Perhaps you can help me."
  • Wow! This sucker makes even YOU look like G.Q. material.
  • Do you miss the smell of singed flesh?
  • The lights do a most pleasant job of illumination.
  • Gee, she looks pretty busy right now.
  • You snag a buckazoid off the waitron. How cool you are.
  • Hey, don't be greedy. It's bad enough that you stole already.
  • HEY, BUDDY! Get your paws outta my tips or I'll liberate your favorite organ. I'll even let you choose. Or, you can leave my tips alone and you won't have to worry about that decision. It's up to you.
  • A waitron hovers about, tray in claw, tending to the upstairs clientele. It makes decent tips, especially for a synthetic being.
  • Howdy, Dollface. What can I get ya'?
  • Nothing right now, thanks.
  • Okay, you just let me know if you change your mind, Hon.
  • Gee, she looks pretty busy right now. Maybe I should wait until she's done with that table.
  • The walls up here maintain the same conduit theme as below.
  • Leave the dried vomit alone, Roger.
  • Nice. It looks like a remnant of when they held the Projectile Vomiting Championships here.

320.msgEdit

  • What's that? It looks like the end of a used Q-Tip.
  • As enticing as the thought is of the heat from those barrels, you decide against it. There's hope for you yet.
  • There's certainly no shortage of fire in this cozy little getaway spot.
  • It's tightly secured.
  • Some wise sap closed up shop and jammed from this dying settlement.
  • You could never have enough buckazoids, Mop Breath!
  • Interesting. She appears to be waiting for someone. She might be one of those professional ladies your mom told you about.
  • She says, "Scrump off, you little felchmonger!"
  • A very odd fixture occupies a good portion of this corner. Its purpose is irrelevent as it seems to be the victim of a lack of maintenance and some sort of clinging mineral-like deposit which has been laid down in several arch-shaped patterns.
  • A sensible person would be afraid to find out what this caps off. That being the case, I'll take the liberty of telling you that it's something you don't want to mess with.
  • (JUST JAM OVER THERE)
  • Now, there's an establishment still in operation. With this climate, it's no wonder that people might need to track down replacement parts for even the most organic of the population. Hmmmm, I wonder if ... nah, never mind.
  • Now, there's an interesting-sounding business name. You wonder what they sell.
  • (JUST GO IN)
  • It's the Dew Beam Inn, but I'm sure they accept pedestrians also. The door hinges aren't exactly overheated from a steady flow of eager patrons.
  • An inn. Hope it's not too classy for you.
  • That doesn't go anywhere fun.
  • Not a good idea.
  • Hmmm. Those two look like people my mom warned me about. I think I should avoid them.
  • Let's not, and say we did.
  • They're permanently affixed.
  • Long, thin vertical supports, or poles, support the front canopy.
  • (READ COMMENT)
  • It's hard to tell what the last business was that went broke here before it was abandoned. It originally went broke centuries ago as a laser disc shop.
  • It's nice to see here that there's a consistency to the architecture. The decay is horrendous. Who needs pigeons with an atmosphere like this?
  • This part of town is almost as glamorous as the rest.
  • There's only one way to find out if they mean what they say.
  • The skyline is anything but beautiful. Flames burn off the gases that can't be contained in the short-sighted dumping facilities. If you weren't so simple-minded, you might actually be depressed by the sight. But then, it's not your planet so why should you care?
  • What, do you want to get a scum souvenir sample to send back to the family? Tell you what, let's just act like you never thought it was a good idea. Okay?
  • This is a case of streetwalking where the street itself possesses more of a threat than any other elements associated with it.
  • Even you recognize the symbols on the barrels. And do you really need a nice supply of toxic waste? I think not.
  • You wonder if there could be any connection between this kind of waste disposal and a thriving business like Implants-N-Stuff. Wow. That's kind of deep for you.
  • It's dark and there's no sign of life. Best not to go that way.

330.msgEdit

  • Good luck!
  • A gleaming alloy aircar shoots toward you, but then rushes on by.
  • The guy looks like he could really use a visit to Supercuts. If the thought of how he might look underneath didn't cause you to involuntarily retch, you might even have paid.
  • Ah, an arcade. You haven't been in an arcade in at least a sequel or two. How cute. It has a really big replica of a coin slot!
  • Ah, an arcade. How cute. It has a really big replica of a coin slot.
  • The barrel's a little too hot to mess with. Even you know better than that.
  • Haven't we taught you not to play with fire? Well, except for that one time in Space Quest 2, but that was very necessary.
  • The flaming barrels remind you of the good old days, kicking back in the sandy outback of Kerona, roasting grellburgers over a lit rocket nozzle. Life was so simple then, but then, so are you. Apparently, SOME things don't change.
  • Have you already forgotten the warning from the EYES message? Pay attention.
  • This guy looks friendly now. Try to keep it that way.
  • Hold it right there, Pal. You don't want to go in there. Trust me. It's not a pretty sight, but then, neither are you. Nonetheless, it's bad news in there and I can't let you enter, so hit the pavement.
  • I told you the situation here, so beat it!
  • Hello, Mr. Bouncer.
  • He pays very little attention. You're pretty used to it. But someday ...
  • Yep, it sure feels opaque.
  • The only way customers could see out of that place is to break some holes. That's some seriously dirty glass.
  • Heck, it might not even be glass. The constantly dripping atmosphere could have carried down corrosives which ate away the glass, leaving a mineral-like residue behind -- a petrified window, if you will.
  • It won't budge. It's seriously closed.
  • This door doesn't appear to have been used in quite some time. With the exception of "the strip" here, this place is nigh on to being a ghost town.
  • Don't bother. There's nothing useful inside.
  • Seems the endodroid's last visit has caused a permanent change of hours for this establishment.
  • Like none.
  • That shows a great sense of community spirit, Roger.
  • So, what are you really trying to do?
  • Sweet sentiments, urban style.
  • The planet's persistent drizzle of water -- and other unidentified substances -- have permanently sealed this thing shut.
  • Sometimes it's hard to tell which looks stranger -- the ship or the being piloting it. You won't know in this case though, since this seems to have been abandoned for quite some time.
  • The street light adds illumination to an area that really would be better off without it. The street names look familiar. Must've been something from a past life.
  • You can't reach that!
  • Another Orion's Belt franchise. That's one place you have yet to be banished from. I'll bet that's the finest neon sculpture on the whole corner.
  • The puddle looks like water, but on this orb you just never can tell.
  • The interesting parking technique employed by the pilot of this formerly spaceworthy ship has made entry impossible. Makes you wonder how, or if, the pilot got out.
  • The pilot of this craft employed a truly creative parking technique. By the looks of it, they'd been a patron of Orion's Belt immediately prior to executing this fine parking job.
  • Things have quieted a bit since that endodroid got loose. The arcade's still happening, but Orion's is real quiet.
  • Now, this place seems to be a little more interesting. Messy, but interesting. Noise emanating from the two establishments here indicates that there might actually be something fun going on inside.
  • Engage!
  • Open the podbay door, Hal!
  • Do you have any idea how ridiculous that was? Of course not. No brain -- no pain.
  • The sidewalks here, with a few exceptions, are a bit clearer in this area.
  • YIKES!! No wonder there isn't much traffic! The traffic law violator recidivism rate must be zilch here. On the negative side, it seems like this approach would severely hinder the ability of a municipality to generate traffic fine revenue.
  • Real cute. Climb the pole and switch the signs. How juvenile. But then again, we're talking about you. Nonetheless, forget it. There's almost no traffic to confuse anyway.
  • A mechanical traffic light diligently maintains control over the nearly nonexistent traffic in the area.
  • The street's a little bit cleaner here. It does have that peculiar burn crater just under the traffic signal.
  • Despite your dedication to the custodial arts, you resist the urge to clean up this mess. Besides, in this place it actually looks more natural.
  • Some inconsiderate slob has littered the streets with the debris once contained within this barrel. If only you'd gotten here a little earlier, you could have been the inconsiderate slob. Better luck next leave.
  • The endodroid didn't exactly make a tidy departure. The window's boarded up now.

340.msgEdit

  • It's startlingly unimpressed.
  • As we join our hero, Roger Wilco, he has just been transported to the surface of Polysorbate LX to enjoy a little shore leave. Apparently, there was a minor glitch in the process.
  • Well, at least you got here with all your important parts -- your hands, your mouth, and your stomach.
  • OK, I'm ready. Energize! (SCOTT DON'T ERASE THIS)
  • Your reach is about as great as your personal depth.
  • GIVE THE BROOM A REST!
  • You're on R&R. Give it a rest.
  • Hey, take it easy. You're on R&R. You wouldn't be so anxious to use that if you were at work.
  • It doesn't want you to do that.
  • This guy looks like a vertically challenged Darth Vadar. What does a thing like that do for fun?
  • It just hums along, oblivious to your presence. Don't you hate that?
  • Sure, you've been in space a long, long time, but it might pay to be just a little more discriminating.
  • You'd think, if indeed you did, that a guy with the skin quality of a pachyderm wouldn't have a problem with this climate.
  • Deep inside, he chuckles to himself with the thought that you think he might actually care what you have to say.
  • He wisely ignores you.
  • Fire burns inside barrels along the streets. Apparently, those using them are residents of planets a bit closer to the suns that they orbit. The temperature seems quite moderate to you. But then, you do fancy yourself a studly guy. Too bad no one else shares that opinion.
  • It doesn't want it back, but that is a nice thought.
  • Don't bother. You can get rust anywhere.
  • Upon grabbing the ID card, you notice the picture on it is of a rather homely-looking alien type. Guess everyone can't be as fortunate as you.
  • The bike frame sits and decays along with everything else in this rancid atmosphere.
  • That's an interesting piece of hardware. Your normally dim power of recollection actually recalls having seen a picture of one of these in the ship library. Get this -- it's called a bike. People used to actually get on these and use their own muscles to achieve locomotion. What losers.
  • Upon closer inspection you notice some sort of ID card hanging on the frame.
  • Boot Liquor appears to be open for business.
  • Hey, that one looks familiar. It lacks a bit in the stature department, though.
  • You're no Bruce Dern, Buddy.
  • The buildings around here have seen much better days. This must be the old part of town. If it isn't, you'd hate to see what is.
  • Rats. The Cinema appears to be closed. You were really hoping to see Tango and Cash 27.
  • The dumpster is nearly the cleanest item in the area. And you thought you were a slob.
  • The Cyclops Club doesn't appear to be doing business.
  • This is an interesting billboard. You can't help but wonder what this Altaira company markets.
  • Yes, you actually left a cool-looking mold of your lower torso. Well, actually, it's not that impressive.
  • It looks like a security badge of some kind.
  • Bearing signs indicating the names of the streets which create this intersection, a light pole illuminates the area. What a mistake that is. Like anyone would want to see more of this place.
  • ALIENS'S
  • STAR TREK XVIII:

THE SEARCH FOR KAHN'S IMPLANTED PECS

  • ROBOSWINE XIII:

THE RECKONING

  • OUTPOST: THE MOVIE
  • RAZING ARIZONA
  • THE LAST

STOOGEFIGHTER

  • SUPERMAN

VS.

BATMAN

  • GUMBY

VS.

MR. BILL

  • MARY ANN

VS.

GINGER

  • RAIDERS OF THE LOST SEMICIRCLE
  • FIST FULL OF

BUCKAZOIDS

  • FOR A FEW BUCKAZOIDS MORE
  • TRIPLE X-FILES
  • JOHNNY PNEUMATIC (X-RATED)
  • THINK TANK GIRL
  • FUTURE SCHLOCK
  • THE LAST OF THE ANDROMEDANS
  • LINOLEUM CHEESE

A JANITOR'S TALE

  • ZORBOT THE GREEK
  • SPACE QUEST 1

THE SARIEN ENCOUNTER

  • SPACE QUEST 2

VOHAUL'S REVENGE

  • SPACE QUEST 3

THE PIRATES OF PESTULON

  • SPACE QUEST 4

ROGER WILCO AND THE TIME RIPPERS

  • SPACE QUEST 5

THE NEXT MUTATION

  • SPACE QUEST 6

ROGER WILCO AND THE COLON OF DOOM

  • SPACE QUEST 7

THE MUSICAL

  • JOSH MANDELA:

THE LEGEND CONTINUES

  • TANGO & CASH XXVII

THE SEQUEL

  • HUDSON HAWK

GOES TO WASHINGTON

  • LITTLE DEBBIE

DOES DELTA BURKSILON

  • MICHELE ALESHIRE

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

  • BUCKET DREAMS
  • THE ORGAN
  • SO I MARRIED AN ENDODROID
  • TRUE FLIES
  • Trapped quantities of atmospheric discharge fill depressions in the street surface. The combination of H2O and atmospheric toxins helps to create a delightful reflective sheen.
  • Thank you, my good man.
  • Yikes! I hope everything came out with me.
  • Oh, great. Real wonderful! Nice beam job, you metallic piece of scrap.
  • Geez, this is snug. Real snug. Hmmm. You know, it actually this makes me feels kind of good. I remember when I used to wear my mom's ... er, well, never mind. This is no time for nostalgia. I've got a serious extraction problem to work out first.
  • Yep, it's still a dump.
  • So this is the location you were so fortunate to draw for surface leave. What a dump! And you thought Xenon looked bad. This place is in serious need of some janitorial expertise.
  • Ah, but that's not your concern. After the ups and downs of the last couple of tours of duty you can really use the R&R. Time to give those buffing calluses a break -- at least that's what you hope.
  • The street seems to reflect the same care and sense of community pride that the rest of the area enjoys.
  • Seldom have you had the good fortune to get to know a street so up close and personal. You feel you have a real bond growing.
  • Nope. Not impressed.
  • Hey, that one has some legs. They're kind of spindly, but you sure have no room to criticize.
  • There's the guy who extracted you from the street. Better avoid him. He might want YOU to do HIM a favor now, and that's just not your style.
  • He seems totally unphased by your sorry attempt at communication.
  • It looks like someone, or something, got just a little too faced and wrecked a perfectly good Loadster 750 -- the Pinto of Polysorbate.

360.msgEdit

  • Commander, I am receiving a message from StarCon.
  • Computer, on screen.
  • Hello, Commander Kielbasa. I have a new directive for DeepShip 86.
  • This is actually a special request from me, Commander. As you may know, I served with Admiral Blundtphang during the Phallopian Campaign. Admiral Blundtphang's widow is involved in building an off-world retirement community. They are almost finished, but have requested assistance from DeepShip 86.
  • Commander, please extend her every courtesy. You know, if things go well, this would not look too bad in your personnel file. I will let Sharpei, the Admiral's widow, explain further.
  • Hello, Commander Kielbasa. As Admiral Toolman mentioned, we have almost completed our project here, but could use StarCon assistance.
  • To be honest, Commander, I pulled a few strings, but this is an important mission, I assure you.
  • Since you are scheduled to be present for the dedication of the Golden Lightyears Retirement Center anyway, I hoped you might alter your travel plans to accomodate an earlier arrival.
  • From the information provided me by my old friend, the Admiral, you would be able to warp here within a few hours. I require some assistance from your ship, as well as one of your crewmembers.
  • Allow me to explain ........
  • Meanwhile back in Sickbay...
  • Janitor Wilco, why are you here?! You're supposed to have gotten your orders from your ComPost as instructed and reported to transport for beaming to Delta Burksilon V. Do it now or I'll be forced to make you the subject and recipient of a Captain's Log entry. Now, move it!
  • Commander Kielbasa, you're going to think I'm crazy but I've just recieved a distress message on my ComPost. And it was from Stellar!
  • Wilco, have you been whiffing cleaning fluid again?!
  • I'm absolutely as sane as I've ever been. She's being held on Delta Burksilon -- by Sharpei!
  • Wilco, do you realize how irrational that sounds? We buried Stellar. You were there. Maybe you need a rest. Take a couple of hours off.
  • Sir ... !
  • Wilco, we have our orders from StarCon and will be carrying them out.
  • Drop it, Janitor. Leave the bridge NOW, Wilco. I've made my decision.
  • Feels plush and comfy. Maybe if you get to be a Captain again someday, you'll get a nice scratching post/command center like this one.
  • Yeah, and you'll be on the cover of JQ!
  • That's Commander Kielbasa's command center.
  • No, wait, it's his scratching post!
  • No, it's his command center!
  • Scratching post!
  • Wait, kids, don't fight ... it's BOTH!
  • All fleas, abandon ship! All fleas, abandon ship!
  • What are you going to do, play MORE DULL KOMBAT?
  • With these controls, Commander Kielbasa can override navigational subsystems, access shipwide computer functions, perform sensor sweeps, and get to Level Six of "Super Nunzio World."
  • Computer, what's the airspeed velocity of a laden swallow?
  • African or European?
  • I don't know!
  • Hey, hey, hey! Enough of that. Let's move on.
  • You can't sit down here. This isn't your station.
  • Fortunately, these bridge substation chairs were "ergonomically designed."
  • Unfortunately, they were ergonomically designed by the Catharsians, a race of humanoids with only one buttock. Oof.
  • If you're so desperate for conversation that you'd talk to empty chairs, maybe you should just shut off the computer and pick up the phone.
  • Yeah, you rearrange the Commander's chair and he'll rearrange YOU.
  • With these controls, Commander Kielbasa can adjust the elevation, tilt, rotation and firmness level of his command center.
  • And if you put in a quarter, it'll massage 320 different acupressure points.
  • Rotate 60 degrees! Tilt forward 22 degrees! Hard to starboard! Evasive maneuvers!
  • Apparently the Command Center only responds to Kielbasa's commands.
  • That's the communication officer.
  • This is the Computer Post, or "ComPost" for short. Most common computer functions can be accessed from these terminals, including convenient pneumatic room-to-room transportation.
  • (Not recommended for pregnant lifeforms or beings with heart conditions!)
  • ComPost, heel!
  • It doesn't respond. It's not voice-activated. Maybe sometime in the distant future!
  • That's the schematic diagram of DeepShip 86.
  • That's Dorff, the ship's Chief of Security.
  • He's the ship's engineer.
  • That's Commander Kielbasa, Dummy.
  • He ignores you as you expected he would.
  • Janitor Wilco, you must have something to clean up somewhere. Make yourself scarce. We're very busy up here.
  • Gee, for a transwarp-class Starship, this thing sure feels like it's built from particle board.
  • This is the bridge, the very nerve center, of the SCS DeepShip 86.
  • The enormous DeepShip cost millions of buckazoids to build, stretches on and on seemingly without end, and limps along at a snail's pace.
  • Sort of like the first Star Trek movie!
  • Hey, nice scenery.
  • You release an extra burst of freshening powder.
  • Mmmmm! Springtime fresh!
  • These new kitty litter boxes use warp-plasma redundancy circuits to release concentrated air freshener gradually ... for up to 45 days.
  • Sometimes for fun, they beam "the Captain's Logs" aboard passing ships and warp on out of there before they're the wiser.
  • See what I have to put up with? Maybe they need a narrator over on Myst 2. You know, a guy can dream.
  • It responds automatically to foul scents. You can't activate it by talking to it.
  • (Unless you're close enough for it to smell your breath.)
  • Not on a bet.
  • It's Commander Kielbasa's kitty litter box. This is where he makes most of his best command decisions.
  • Not to mention all of his log entries!
  • Sorry, you're not authorized to contribute to the Captain's Log.
  • That's the science officer.
  • Occupado!
  • This is the Engineering Station, where the power grids and engines are constantly monitored to make sure they're within StarCon spec.
  • Or at least somewhere around a point close to an approximation of the same general idea of StarCon spec.
  • The Engineering station is set to listen to voice commands from authorized personnel only, and you are as unauthorized as can be.
  • You activate the Level 1 Pattern Detector.
  • Hmm ... game #1 in a series sells 50,000 copies. Game #2 in the series sells 100,000 copies. Game #3 sells 150,000 copies. Game #4 sells 200,000 copies. Game #5 sells 250,000 copies ...
  • You're detecting a definite pattern here!
  • This is the Science Station, housing the advanced sensor systems, extended computer reference modules, and pattern detectors.
  • This Science Station is a ready source of information on just about any topic in the universe.
  • Thus you are absolutely incapable of carrying on an intelligent conversation with it.
  • You perform a quick structural integrity scan, followed by a sweep for subspace particle emissions, and finish with a Level 3 diagnostic.
  • I liked pushing the green button best!
  • This station houses the Security and Tactical arrays.
  • The Engineering and Tactical displays respond to intelligent voice commands.
  • Guess you're out of luck.
  • Don't mess with the Communications Post until you've learned basic punctuation.
  • This is the Communications Station. All intraship, ship-to-ship, and ship-to-surface communications are routed through this terminal.
  • ... except when the Communications officer is too busy leaving juvenile "my M-5 Multitronic Unit is more powerful than YOUR old Daystrom Laptop" messages on InterNut!
  • Hear ye, hear ye! We at StarCon have made a dreadful mistake. Janitor Second Class Roger Wilco is now Commander.
  • Nice try, only you forgot to push the yellow button. Lucky for you! Although it's hard to get busted down any lower than you already are.
  • The sensor pad feels warm and smooth, like a laminated baby's bottom.
  • This is a pressure-activated sensor pad, located directly below the Intraship Transport Tube so that an outgoing crewmember won't be accidentally crushed by an incoming crewmember.
  • That's not how you get up into the tube!
  • This is the pneumatic tube for intraship transport. It is not a toy.
  • Anyone up there?
  • Apparently not.
  • Don't touch the viewscreen, you just finished cleaning it.
  • The main viewscreen is filled with stars and distant galaxies, representing untold scores of civilizations and a vast amount of untapped knowledge that could reshape the way we think of time and space.
  • But more importantly, you're proud to notice that your new squeegee didn't leave any streaks!
  • Orbiting Delta Burksilon V.
  • Orbiting Polysorbate LX.
  • Yo, distant galaxies and stars! Can you hear me?
  • Sorry, objects in viewscreen are farther away than they actually appear.

370.msgEdit

  • Nice work. Sometimes you actually surprise me.
  • Whoa, I see you have a visitor. I'll leave you two alone, but you know the rules. Ten more minutes and they have to leave.
  • Yikes! It's a good thing Dorff's so vain about wearing his prescribed, much thicker glasses. That was too close. I nearly dampened an undergarment.
  • You don't seem to be able to gain access.
  • Now there's a real bright idea. But then, perhaps you'd deserve the consequences. If the force field were turned off, you'd be the only one to suffer the consequences. In the event that someone might be looking over your shoulder, we'll save your embarrassment for another time.
  • Game over, Man, game over!
  • What are you, Plastic Man? You can't possibly reach anything outside the cell when you're locked in.
  • This sensor pad controls the force field grid for Cell 105.
  • Well, the way this room is arranged, and given that you're locked inside the cell, if you stretch your neck reallll hard ...
  • ... you'd break your fool neck before you could see THAT.
  • Hey, Mr. Computer, release the force field, would you?
  • First, the grid controls don't respond to voice commands. Second, it's a little objectionable to assign sexual identity to the computer, don't you think?
  • Sorry. I forgot who I was talking to.
  • You flick the force field on and off, just so you can feel like a real Security guy.
  • This sensor pad controls the force field grid for Cell 106.
  • While that's an interesting idea, even Dorff would notice that something would be missing where there were two things -- the cart and you.
  • Not now. Dorff is looking.
  • It's a hovercraft for transporting replicated food.
  • This is your standard shipwide ComPost panel. Surely you must recognize it by now!
  • That ComPost represents freedom! Ah, sweet freedom ... you never realize how much you miss something until you've screwed it up so badly that you don't have anything like it anymore.
  • Or something like that.
  • Nothing happens. The ComPost uses a tactile rather than verbal interface.
  • You don't need two doughnuts. Trust me.
  • This is some very fine food, whatever it is. I'm sure you'll find it quite to your liking. Heck, it's probably better than what they feed you janitors. Live it up. Oh, that darn light needs to be amplified. I need to contact maintenance.
  • You are very fortunate to not be a prisoner on one of those Cervic cruisers. They'd have you eating your ... oh, heck, never mind. You don't need to hear that right before you eat, that's for sure. I do go on a little.
  • Golly, this food looks so good, it might be worth becoming a prisoner for. (LAME CHUCKLE AND SNORT) Yeah, like I'm sure I'd want to be in your position! ... Not!
  • Enjoy, Mr. Wilco. The cushy life will be a vague memory after you are sent to one of the labor camps on Daventry VIII.
  • Enjoy. I'll be back to pick up the cart. With the force field on, I trust you won't be going anywhere. I have some matters to attend to now.
  • Eat up, prisoner! I'll be collecting that cart soon.
  • That would be Dorff, the nearsighted and fairly clueless Security Chief.
  • What are you doing there, Prisoner Wilco?
  • It's a consumption ritual my, uh, babysitter taught me.
  • Yeah, that's it.
  • Oh, very well. Carry on.
  • Hey, there's someone in your spot. Nice work, Roger. Why, he's almost as handsome as you. (WILL PROBABLY GO WITH A GENERIC MESSAGE TO BE DETERMINED)
  • Nice!
  • You marvel at how much more handsome this prisoner looks compared to the last one.
  • He's having enough trouble just maintaining his species. I hardly think he's going to be paying much attention to, much less understanding, you.
  • With the force field in place, you can't reach anything in that cell without demolecularizing your arm (which is a trip and a half, but you've kinda grown attached to it).
  • It's a plain Quadro-Full cot. You don't get those nice shimmery sheets when you're in the brig.
  • Don't talk to the bed, you'll get down in the mouth.
  • Provided you could get your arm through the force field (which you can't), the Creature from the Ego would nip it off at the shoulder and you'd die horribly in a puddle of gore as the blood fountained from the gaping wound.
  • (Yeah, and we know exactly what you're thinking: "Awesome! Let's see it!")
  • Inside this cell is the Creature from the Ego, a bizarre invisible monster caught on Rialto IV. It's violent, brutal, bloodthirsty, and is a sucker for insincere flattery.
  • Hey, handsome! Let's see that pretty li'l face!
  • Impressive.
  • This is a dispenser that releases a steady stream of dihydrogen oxide, a colorless limpid liquid compound that acts as a solvent and keeps bodily tissues from dehydrating.
  • Don't talk with your mouth open.
  • This is a receptacle for digestive by-products, which are then briefly churned with dihydrogen oxide and then transported under pressure into the tanks in the Replicator subprocessing unit.
  • The only way you'll be able to see that is if you stick your head far enough through the pipes. But you'd probably drown.
  • Yes, provided you could get past both the force field and the Creature from the Ego, you could easily stick your head in the bowl and talk like Darth Vadar. But it's not really worth the loss of life.
  • Wow! You can see your house from here!
  • Nobody out there can hear you from here.
  • You can't touch it from outside the cell, but if it's anything like the paper in your cell, it's impregnated with an organosilicon compound for reduced friction.
  • Plus, it's quilted for extra cush!
  • You can't reach it from here, but by feeling the paper in your own cell, you just know the paper in the left cell is soft and smooth on your bottom!
  • The roll of toilet paper is conveniently placed for wiping alien tushies.
  • You can't see the paper from where you are, but you just KNOW it's quilted.
  • (Mainly because that's what the paper in your cell looks like!)
  • You're disgusting.
  • This is a standard Transwarp-Class Starship food replicator. "Where the StarCon Elite Meet to Eat!"
  • As you look at the Replicator, the old adage "You are what you eat" floats to the surface of your consciousness (along with all the other scum pooling around up there). What could that mean?
  • As usual, the thought leaves your mind as quickly as it came in.
  • Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.
  • Get a clue. This isn't science fiction, this is reality.
  • There's nothing like the feel of imitation orat hide.
  • Hey! There's someone in your "spot."
  • Oh, no, I'm not going in THERE again.
  • You prod the bed a little bit, just to make sure it isn't moving on its own.
  • The bed now resembles a buffet table.
  • This is now YOUR bed. Suddenly you find yourself wondering what kind of festering, slimy, pus-laden criminals have sat on this very bed. And what they've left behind.
  • The cell walls feel cold, hard and unforgiving. You feel a Johnny Cash song coming on.
  • As you run your hand over the grafitti-covered bare Plasto-stone walls of the cell, you wonder why nobody ever cleans this place.
  • Cell 106 is infamous for the permanent blood stain on the floor. That stain came into being when Red Bovine, a Ferbangi slave trader, tried to escape by crawling out the porthole and immediately imploded.
  • That's why they refer to it as the "Red Blood Cell".
  • Why ... that's the cell where you spent the most hellish twenty minutes of your entire life!
  • Home, sweet home -- until you figure out how to get out of here and away from that nearsighted security guard.
  • Halt! Who goes there?
  • Oh, it's me.
  • The sink appears to be malfunctioning. One of these days, you'll have to get around to asking someone to fix it. But then again, the prisoners in the brig don't really deserve such luxuries, do they?
  • Why doesn't this darned sink work? What's WRONG with this ship, anyway? Prisoners have rights, too, y'know! This is an outrage! This treatment is inhumane! I'm sorry, but I'm peeved!
  • Sorry I lost control like that. I'm better now.
  • If you look at it, it's a sink. If you smell it, it's a toilet.
  • Well, let's just look at it.
  • Yuck!! No pine scent here.
  • Hey, we're trying for a PG-13 rating here.
  • I don't have to go right now. I went just before you started playing.
  • It looks like a john.*
  • Note: we would like to apologize to all those members of the audience named "John" who might have been offended by the preceding message. It's not our fault that your parents named you after a bathroom fixture.
  • You don't need a drink right now, you ol' Space Dog.
  • Last time you checked, you weren't Superman.
  • In desperation, you attempt to bend the bars, roll the toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and escape.
  • Unfortunately, there are several flaws in this plan.
  • Gazing out at the peaceful stars drifting slowly by, you can't help but be overcome with a sense of your own total insignificance.
  • Gazing out the window reminds you of a legendary prisoner named the Birdman of DeepShip 12, who raised homing pigeons in his cell for months.
  • He then hatched a scheme in which he'd write notes and attach them to the pigeons and send the pigeons out the window in search of help.
  • Naturally, the birds would immediately explode upon being released into outer space, but he never gave up.
  • When he was released, he was heavily recruited by SOL, Inc.
  • You stupidly try to spit out the window, completely forgetting that there's quintuple-thick Dynapane glass in front of those bars. The bars are just there for atmosphere.
  • The Brig is the most solidly-built room onboard.
  • This is the Brig area, where transgressors are placed for punishment and, supposedly, rehabilitation.
  • In order to strike fear into the hearts of evildoers, the cells are labelled "105" and "106." Actually, these are the only two cells aboard the ship.
  • But the subtlety is usually lost on these intergalactic criminal-types.
  • From where you're sitting, it looks like freedom.
  • It's like talking to a Duroethylene Plasto-brick wall.
  • But ... but ... I LIKE my hand!
  • Thar she blows! The Creature from the Ego! That sucker looks like he could nip the macadamias off of a Labion Terror Beast in full-dervish!
  • You can hear him and sense his presence, but you can't see him. Which is a good thing if you've just eaten.
  • Hey, if I tease you enough, will you bust out of there and kill me, or what?
  • Feels slick and plasticky, yet elastic and scratch-resistant.
  • Sort of what like Michael Jackson's face must feel like by now!
  • The pad helps you position yourself correctly for intraship transport.
  • As if the overhead tube weren't a big enough clue.
  • Stop flapping your lips.
  • It's way beyond your grasp, just like quadratic equations.
  • It's the chute you get sucked up into.
  • It's your escape route! You have GOT to get out of here and save Stellar!
  • Heads up! Coming through!

380.msgEdit

  • So we got a match but the files are closed? What's with that?
  • I don't know for sure, Roger, but it seems a bit suspicious.
  • When a file is marked like that, there's usually a very good reason. Most frequently it indicates the file is closed for intelligence purposes or it's legally sealed by some judicial body.
  • In the case of those tubs of guts that grabbed you, I'd have to say that it's not a government agency directly behind it. Sounds more like someone with access from the outside to a friend or two inside. A more paranoid person might say this smells way wrong.
  • Then again, when did you last change your socks?
  • If the files are sealed then we have nothing to go on.
  • True. The only thing I can think of is that they may be accessible by jacking into cyberspace. I've never done it, but I know it can be done.
  • So I guess this means you won't be trying it first, uh, I mean, I'd love to try it, but I can't since we don't know how.
  • Well, actually, I read it can be done with the help of a cyberjack and headset, and a cyberspace jack interface module. The article said there are several things to access out there and that there's a vast library of files to browse.
  • It said that the Information Superhighway project is a little behind schedule but that there are some operative areas. Other than that, I don't have a clue as to how we can gain any information about them.
  • So you think this cyberspace thing could work?
  • I can only tell you what I've read. Navigating it takes a little patience but I think it's the only option you have. I don't know if you'll locate a cyberjack and headset. Because of the delays in the project they've become more like collector's items than marketable, functionable products.
  • We do have cyberjack modules built into the ComPost.
  • That's true. Of course, we won't know anyway without the jack.
  • That bites. I wonder where we could find one of those?
  • I wish I knew, Roger. There must be someplace.
  • Attention. We are now orbiting the Delta Burksilon V colony as requested by StarCon. Most of you know your assignments as they have been broadcast to your ComPosts. Please represent StarCon properly.

Kielbasa out.

  • You'd better get moving since you don't know yet what your assignment is. I have some checking around to do. We'll talk later.
  • Thanks, Stellar. I'll see you soon.
  • Maybe we can work in that dinner.
  • Oh, hi, Stellar. I hope your back's feeling better.
  • They just finished treating me and it IS starting to feel better. However, I was told to lay off rescuing people for awhile -- especially you. So, did you have any luck?
  • I got some information from the sample I ran through the DNA sequencer.
  • When I tried it, all I got was a name. All it said after that was that the file is closed. I wonder why that is?
  • It's soft, yet firm.
  • It's a MediBunk. This is where all ill or injured crew members are treated. It's also where they bring all the guys in the red shirts -- or what's left of them -- after they have suffered their inevitable calamities.
  • Big cases of unimportant stuff clutter the foreground.
  • Neat! I've always wanted to try one of these on the ComPost.
  • As in all locations aboard the DeepShip 86, a ComPost is located here. Ever since stairs were banned during the Ford administration, ComPosts have been a necessity.
  • Many things rest on the center console. Most of them are merely non-functional screen dressing. Pretty cool-looking, eh?
  • It's your standard DNA sequencer.
  • I'm sorry, Mr. Wilco. The sequencer is for use by trained personnel only. Obviously, you don't fit that description. I'm afraid I can't allow you to use it.
  • Aw, come on, Jebba. Be a pal. Who'll know?
  • I'm sorry, Mr. Wilco. It's a StarCon regulation.
  • This is a DNA sequencer. During a starship's travels many different organisms and artifacts are discovered, and a DNA sequencer can come in quite handy in analyzing them.
  • But mostly, it just gets used to make sure the food replicators are working properly and not brewing up anything that might hatch and grow inside you, for instance.
  • Apparently the doctor is way busy, as he completely ignores you.
  • Nope. We're not getting into any of that Alien-type stuff in this game.
  • Various specimen jars line the back of the center console. Some seem to still have a specimen or two in them. Jebba must have the best specimen collection in the quadrant.
  • Jebba is an interesting-looking fellow -- that is, if you think a melted purple marshmallow with an internal skeleton is interesting. He's the main research attendant here in the Sickbay.
  • He ignores you. What did you expect him to do? He helped you and it's time for you to move along. We have adventuring to do.
  • You got what you wanted. I'm really quite busy and need to get my work done now. Goodbye, Mr. Wilco!
  • Geez, Jebba, Who's gonna know? Let me just try this one thing, I'll be out of your way. No one'll find out.
  • I don't know, Mr. Wilco, I'm not one to break regulations. I really don't think it's a good idea.
  • I swear it'll only take a minute. We're out in the middle of nowhere. No one will find out. And I'll tell you what. Anytime you want it, one free plunge job, day or night. Whaddaya say?
  • Well, I don't know ...
  • It'll only take a minute or two. Really. Come on, Jebba. Be a pal.
  • Well ... Okay, but just this once. If anyone finds out, I'm sunk. Then I'll come looking for you to take it out on. Keep that in mind.
  • No problem. I'll be done in a flash.
  • I really don't know why I'm doing this.
  • It's the keyboard for the DNA sequencer.
  • It's just a crate.
  • It only reads out. No, you can't change the channel to Baywatch, Pal.
  • The screen displays the results obtained from the continuous biofeed scan of the patient.
  • It's a cabinet.
  • This is one of the control panels for the BioFeed Scanner above the MediBunk. Skilled personnel know how to properly operate this -- which means YOU should leave it alone.
  • It's the DNA sequencer scanning bed. This is where you put the food, er, specimen you desire to scan.
  • It's a case of something you don't care about.
  • This is the Sickbay. All ill or injured crewmembers are brought here for treatment. It seems everyone in a red shirt ends up in here eventually, or at least what's left of them.
  • It's a scale. No, you can't weigh yourself.
  • This is a BioFeed Scanner. It reads all vital life functions, and some not so vital. It then inteprets those signals and converts them into a form that can be graphically displayed. But mostly it just goes BEEP a lot.
  • Stellar is getting treatment for her back injury. You should be ashamed of yourself for jumping on her like that -- you baby!

390.msgEdit

  • Leave it alone. It's not a toy. Besides, you'd probably cut yourself.
  • Like last time.
  • Ah, your old Xenon Army knife from Space Quest 1, in which you destroyed the powerful Star Generator which had fallen into the hands of the evil kleptomaniac Sariens!
  • Ah, memories. This really helped out in Space Quest 1. I just don't understand why it cuts me better than it does other things.
  • You won't need to take the Autobucks Card. Here on the DeepShip 86, there's no need for money. Everything's free.
  • It's kind of like a Royal Caribbean Cruise, only without the aerobics classes.
  • Ooh, it's your old Autobucks Card from your shopping spree at the Galaxy Galleria, after you saved the Latex Babes from that hideous Sea Slug in Space Quest 4. It's expired unfortunately, but then, you don't need much money aboard the DeepShip.
  • Besides, people would talk if they saw you dressed that way again.
  • We didn't make this game just so you could crawl into bed and go back to sleep. Be productive!
  • Why do all these starships come with shimmery sheets? What's so futuristic and wonderful about shimmery sheets?
  • They wake you up at night. They're cold and slippery. And the WORST thing is getting up every morning with sequins imprinted all over your face.
  • What's up with that?
  • Now's no time for pillow talk!
  • There's no reason to open the blinds. There's nothing to see out there except billions of the same old strange new worlds, ho-hum new life and new civilizations, and lots of stupid places for insane, death-wishing daredevils to boldly go where no insane, death-wishing daredevils have gone before.
  • Somebody told you that Venusian miniblinds would look good in here.
  • Then again, somebody told you that you look great under fluorescent lights.
  • Your words reflect harmlessly back to you from the window.
  • Now's no time to catch up on your reading.
  • It's a medical reference of janitor-specific ailments, "Diseases of the Janitalia."
  • Leave them where they are. They're positioned just right for making it appear as though you simply dissolved into your bed.
  • These are your boots.
  • Wait a second, you're already wearing your boots.
  • Hmmmmmm.
  • You won't need that buckazoid onboard. Save it. Put it towards your education.
  • It's your life savings!
  • The buckazoid is silent. That's odd. Usually, money talks.
  • You've never once sat down at this table, and you're not about to start now!
  • These chairs have been thoughtfully provided by Ship Services so that you can sit at your table and work.
  • You wonder what it feels like to sit in them.
  • That cigar butt is a piece of your history. You would no sooner carry it around than you would your golden mop.
  • It's a discarded cigar stub from the Galaxy Galleria in Space Quest 4!
  • Don't put that cigar butt in your mouth. You know where this one has been!
  • You yank on the ClapMaster's™ cord 'til it pops out of the wall, and you shove it all into your pocket.
  • This is your old ClapMaster™. It can turn a plug on and off with a clap of the hands.
  • And there are a lot of plugs in this room ... mostly for Space Quests 1, 2, 3 and 4!
  • Clap!
  • Apparently you're a little unclear on the concept.
  • You never learned how to work these controls. That's why you keep everything that should be in the closet scattered around the room.
  • These controls open and close the closet, perform passive handprint IDs to prevent unauthorized entry, monitor its humidity, and scan for moths.
  • Can we talk?
  • When are you going to learn that the computers around here aren't voice-activated? StarCon's too cheap for that.
  • The closet isn't worth opening. Everything that used to be inside is scattered around the room.
  • Ordinarily, your closet contains clothes. At the moment, though, you're using your clothes as knick-knacks.
  • Picking up your clothes?
  • Dammit, Roger, you're a janitor, not a responsible adult!
  • You've been meaning to do this laundry for several months. Now it's permanently stuck to the floor.
  • Pick yourselves up and put yourselves away.
  • You're terribly offended that they do not reply.
  • This is your personal ComPost, where you can access computer functions and room-to-room pneumatic transport.
  • However, personal communications are sent directly to this ComPost station, rather than being transmitted to every ComPost on the ship. You wouldn't want everyone reading those steamy messages you get from Beatrice Wankmeister, would you?
  • You bet you WOULD!
  • Looks like you have a message waiting for you. Hmm ...
  • It does not respond to voice commands.
  • This poor dresser hasn't worked right since they hauled it onboard.
  • Wait, were you looking at yourself or at the bureau?
  • Well, same message either way.
  • Ah, there's nothing like the feel of a solid third-class crew deck under your feet!
  • Don't bother with it, the batteries are dead, and there's no alien language here to translate.
  • Wow, it's the old translating gadget you used to communicate with the subterranean alien back on the planet Kerona in Space Quest 1!
  • Too bad they don't make those little Dilithium watch batteries anymore.
  • Hey, translate THIS!
  • OK, hold it right there.
  • Feels headboardy!
  • This headboard contains vital function telemetry modules, full-spectrum illumination, and, as the ultimate in high-tech entertainment:
  • An 8-track player with quadrophonic sound.
  • Boy, nothing beats being part of an advanced civilization!
  • The headboard senses vital functions and responds to them. The sound of your voice is anything BUT a vital function.
  • Sure, go ahead, grab that red-hot spike of quartz so it'll fuse your hand permanently to the heater.
  • You've got a Quartrzebie™ portable quartz heater set up in here.
  • Looks like the quartz is plenty hot right now.
  • You have apparently mistaken your space heater for some other space heater that gives a damn.
  • You won't need that hintbook, you've already won Space Quest 4. (Haven't you?)
  • Say, it's the old hintbook you found in the bargain bin at the software store in Space Quest 4!
  • Conversing with the hintbook is a sign of multidimensional dementia.
  • Wilco, Commander Kielbasa here. I have a special assignment for you. A crewperson of special skills is required on Delta Burksilon V. In the spirit of StarCon cooperation, we have decided to offer them your assistance. Transport there immediately. Kielbasa out.
  • Wilco, where are you? You either get down to Delta Burksilon V NOW, or I will have you ejected into space. Is that understood, Janitor?
  • It feels clean, for once!
  • Your kitchen is in here, complete with garbage disposal, solid waste regenerator, and cockroaches.
  • You would offer to play hide-and-seek with the cockroaches, but you are always "it."
  • Since the lamp is the main source of illumination in your room, you decide to leave it on.
  • This lovely kryptonite mood lamp casts a cool glow over the room.
  • Kryptonite lamp ... sapping power ... must ... replace ... bulb ... someday!
  • Your attempt at light conversation fails.
  • You've long since used up all the matches in this book. The cover is lying around as a souvenir.
  • Hey, here's that pack of matches you stole from the Ulence Flats bar when you returned to Space Quest 1 during the time-travel sequence in Space Quest 4!
  • Hey, here's a match for you ...
  • My face and your spatially-inverted tetryon particle!
  • Well, you had to be there.
  • YOU HAVE [0] MESSAGE[S]
  • Wow, a message for ME. I must be getting popular.
  • I wonder what it is?
  • The surface of the mirror feels cold and hard, like glass ... yet you can see yourself in it. Strange!
  • You glance in the mirror.
  • For a moment, you can almost see a silk-clad brunette overacting in a stone tower.
  • Why don't you look into that 'facing thing?
  • That mop is a piece of your history. You would no sooner carry it around than you would your cigar butt.
  • Holy cow, it's your Golden Mop Award for your feats of derring-do in Space Quest 1!
  • Once upon a time, you really meant something to me. You were a symbol of my bravery, of my importance to StarCon. Now you're just a constant reminder of the glory that once was mine.
  • Roger just pawn in chessgame of StarCon.
  • First of all, you haven't bothered to fix the ClapMaster™ yet. Second, you didn't unplug it just to plug it in again here!
  • Sorry, plugging the ClapMaster™ back in here isn't going to accomplish anything useful. Or even amusing.
  • If you want to take the ClapMaster™, use your hand on the base unit sitting on your night table.
  • If not, leave me alone.
  • You have no reason to plug that back in here.
  • It's a four-socket recursive-current subspace-grounded outlet, with your ClapMaster™ plugged into it.
  • It's a four-socket recursive-current subspace-grounded socket, devoid of any cords, plugs, or pins!
  • It's a four-socket recursive-current subspace-grounded outlet. There appears to be a plug prong stuck in it.
  • It's speechless.
  • There's nothing to be gained from moving the ClapMaster™ from one outlet to another in your quarters, even if this one was capable of being plugged in!
  • Sticking your finger in the socket might provide us with a few cheap laughs, but we're above that sort of thing.
  • There's nothing in your quarters that you particularly feel like clapping off.
  • It's a four-socket recursive-current subspace-grounded outlet, with your heater plugged into it.
  • It's never enough, of course. When're Ship Services going to send up that power strip you asked for?
  • You resist the temptation to scream into the outlet, which you used to do back when you were a child and had those typical fears of the Monster in the Socket.
  • You're perfectly comfortable in the pair of pants you're already wearing.
  • That's odd, you don't remember having a second pair of pants.
  • Maybe you've got an evil twin from a parallel universe, walking around the ship naked.
  • Thanks, you're a real load of pants.
  • Wait a minute, where have I heard something like that before?
  • There's nothing behind the picture.
  • And just to clear this up right now, there's nothing under the carpet, beneath the bed, inside the closet, behind the dresser, or inside the garbage can.
  • You're thinking of that other game from that other company.
  • It's a picture entitled, "Rocket Ship to the Moon."
  • Now if you could only figure out what the heck a "moon" is!
  • What should I do? Tell me, what should I do?
  • You should get a grip. Do you realize you're talking to yet another inanimate object?
  • With all the naive charm of a person who's never figured out the relationship between electricity and flesh, you grab for the ClapMaster's™ wayward prong.
  • There's a single prong from the ClapMaster's™ plug embedded in the outlet.
  • Come out of there. I'm afraid I'll get a shock if I touch you.
  • What are you going to do, lay hands on it and heal it?
  • You've killed your Antarean Foreground Plant.
  • You give the plant the last rites.
  • You think about plucking one of the dead brown leaves from the dead brown plant. But that would just be adding insult to injury.
  • This is a Betelgeuse Clambering Hagfish Fern. You've tried everything you could think of to get it back to health.
  • Unfortunately, all you could think of to do was to stand over it and say, "Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse!"
  • It's way too late to save this plant by talking to it.
  • The PocketPal will be of no use to you whatsoever. It's AC and the ship is DC.
  • Hey, it's the PocketPal terminal you filched from an abandoned landspeeder on Xenon during Space Quest 4!
  • Don't bother talking to it. It's just a dumb terminal.
  • No, there's nothing behind the poster!
  • You had tickets to see Quazar Live in Concrete with Beatrice.
  • That was before you got busted back down to Janitor and assigned to this dad-blasted floating heckhole of a mother-talking spaceship.
  • (*Note: this game has scrupulously avoided any rough language that would result in having to be rated as an adults-only computer or video game by the Game Censorship Board of the U.S. Senate subcommittee.)
  • As these things are wont to do, it acts like you said nothing at all.
  • Unless there happens to be a Star Generator in the immediate vicinity, this remote won't be of any use to you whatsoever.
  • And there isn't, so there won't.
  • Whoa, it's the Star generator remote control you found aboard the Sarien ship during Space Quest 1!
  • There isn't the remotest chance it will respond to you.
  • It's your Food Replicator.
  • Technically, it's not a replicator at all, it's a wormhole into the Restaurant Dimension.
  • The Food Replicator responds to keypad input only.
  • Don't pick it up, you've already broken it several times. Now the port stablizer flange is out of configuration by 5.2 percent, which could result in a warp core breach.
  • Now you've done it. You've reaaaaaaally done it.
  • You saw this detailed diecast model of an early StarCon Solar Scout in Milky Way Today, StarCon's In-Flight Magazine. It seemed like a great investment at the time.
  • Your quarters are cozy and intimate, yet spacious.
  • (That's one of the advantages of living in a converted cargo hold.)
  • You won't need it. It's reminding you of your inadequacy just fine where it is.
  • Wow, it's your official employment rejection letter from Sierra On-Line at the end of Space Quest 3!
  • It just says "Not a chance," and it's signed by Ken Williams.
  • You can curse at the rejection letter all you like, but the decision has already been made.
  • They would make a very effective weapon against any foe. Unfortunately, you can't bear to pick them up and be that close to them for any length of time. By now, they're probably stiffer than Mr. Spock.
  • We named the game after these.
  • You know ... "Space Quest Sox!"
  • Stop lingering with the lingerie, put a sock in it, and get moving!
  • (LABORED) Roger... help me! I only have a moment... They faked...
  • Stellar! What happened?! The picture's gone. You're alive?!
  • The table appears to be composed entirely of solid matter.
  • This table is supposed to be used for paperwork and gracious dining.
  • Since you do neither, you've found it makes a great place to stash all this junk you've collected over the years.
  • Perhaps you should table this conversation for now.
  • You have nothing you need to throw out right now.
  • Some of the Empire's old R2-D2 units were recycled into convenient trash receptacles.
  • Stop talking trash!
  • You won't be needing the whistle.
  • Lookee, it's your old Labion Terror Beast Mating whistle from Space Quest 2!
  • Do you see any Labion Terror Beasts around here?
  • No?
  • Then there's no need to blow it!

400.msgEdit

  • Welcome to HoloSuite program #5551212 -- The Vulgar Nerve Pinch
  • Despite our reputation for being pacifists, we Vulgars have developed an extremely practical martial arts technique used mainly for defensive purposes. It is called "The Vulgar Nerve Pinch."
  • This is a tactile/aural maneuver in which the applier pinches the bundle of nerve fibers at the base of the neck while whispering into the victim's ear dialogue from either "Tango & Cash" or "Hudson Hawk."
  • This particular combination of nerve stimuli and loss of cerebral control due to the torturous mantra of movie dialog results in a searing flash of pain, and then unconsciousness.
  • In effect, it is similiar to a temporary, aurally-induced lobotomy. Victims are soon rendered unconscious for several hours.
  • When they awaken, they will remember nothing of how they came to be unconscious -- if they are extremely lucky. I shall demonstrate on my most eager volunteer.
  • You will please to pay attention.
  • Address the subject in this manner:
  • Please to notice the location of my hand as I begin the narcotic chant of cinematic morphine.
  • He mutters something thankfully unintelligible into the ear of the volunteer.
  • mumble mumble mumble...
  • So, as you can see, it is very effective. If you can apply a proper grip to the neck, it will disable nine out of ten neck-bearing species.
  • This completes our program. Thank you.
  • Don't screw with the projection arrays. They are precisely aligned and calibrated.
  • The various arrays found around the room project all the images and sounds one will experience here.
  • This is one of the number keys, as indicated by the strategically placed numbers on it. I can see where you'd be confused.
  • This clears the previous entry.
  • As elsewhere, this room is equipped with a ComPost.
  • These are the HoloDeck programming controls.
  • This deletes the entry.
  • This begins execution of your entry.
  • The floor is totally free of debris. The HoloSuite is self-cleaning. This technology could render you obsolete if it were used extensively throughout the fleet. Good thing StarCon's so cheap.
  • The floor is featureless.
  • Those little red things are transporter station status lights. You have no idea what they mean. They always look that way.
  • No real mystery as to what this does -- at least there'd better not be!
  • This is the HoloJoint. There are the usual ComPost and transport tubes as in all other ship locations. There is a special control panel near those. Otherwise, the room is nearly devoid of features.
  • The truly unique thing about this room is its ability to be programmed to replicate just about any setting and situation. It is often used for training as well as for periods of recreation by the crew.
  • You are looking at two computer screens. Yes two, the computer screen of your wimpy PC and the screen of our far superior holocabana that can "render" your PC worthless.
  • It's the pad the ship's transport system uses as a target when spewing transportees to their appropriate destinations.
  • The only time you can touch that is when you're passing through it.
  • That's the in-ship transport tube for this room. You've been hurled through it more times than you'd care to think about.
  • They feel as they look.
  • The walls have a flat, nondescript finish. Very deceiving when you consider what this room is capable of.

410.msgEdit

  • It's hard to believe that this is the HoloSuite. The setting is much like the graphics you have scanned in the library from those planets more interesting in their climatic diversity.
  • From the scenic jutting peaks, soft hills and lake in the conjured distance to the lush pixelized growth of trees, flowers and grass in the foreground, the HoloDeck has that sublime park-like perfection.
  • Unfortunately, its serene beauty is sadly negated by the headstones and the solemn event about to occur: the laying to rest of your rescuer and true friend, Stellar Santiago.
  • You are feeling as you have never felt before. Perhaps helped along by the relatively short stints aboard the various ships, as well as all-too-brief friendships, you've been spared the emotional devastation of true loss by lack of attachment.
  • This, however, is a different feeling -- far different from anything you've ever experienced. You can't help but wonder how you'd act towards Stellar given a second chance, but you know that can never happen. She gave her life for you and you will never be able to thank her.
  • Enough smarm already. Let's funeral!
  • This is no time to pick a conversation.
  • No, they are not available for picking. You weren't going to try to pick up someone at the funeral, were you?
  • The blue flowers, and all of them for that matter, are typical of the HoloSuite's incredible attention to detail.
  • Not too appropriate -- even for you!
  • It's your average, everyday HoloChaplain. Stunningly real, don't you think?
  • No, that's more than you are up to at this time. All you really want to touch is the spleen of whoever did this to Stellar!
  • Egad, can you really be thinking that?
  • Geez, the coffin. The true gravity of Stellar's death hits you in the, er, stomach, nearly making you physically ill. It's really true.
  • You would leave Stellar's funeral?!
  • This is the standard ComPost. It's the only other thing that detracts from the nearly perfect scene before your eyes.
  • Wouldn't it be fun to see everyone's reactions if you turned off the program. You quickly lose the thought and remember Stellar.
  • This is the control panel for the HoloSuite from which this setting was recreated.
  • There's the holographic gravedigger. His program certainly is low-key.
  • It's a funeral. Act appropriately.
  • That's Dorff, the DeepShip's nearsighted and relatively clueless security chief.
  • Ladies and/or gentleman, we assemble here today to honor the memory of a former crewmate, Lieutenant First Class Stellar Santiago. Her unfortunate death takes place in the shadow of a new community, the dawning of a new life for the aged of our galaxy.
  • Although death is never easy to accept, we must remember that the tragic accident which took her from our midst occurred while she was on duty. If a member of StarCon must perish for some reason, there is no more honorable way. It is part of the oath we recite and take to heart when we pledge our allegiance.
  • I believe her friend, Janitor Second Class Roger Wilco has a few words he'd like to say. Mr. Wilco?
  • Uh ...
  • I only knew Stellar for, uh, a short time. I wish I, uh, could have gotten to know her much, uh, much, uh, better, to have had a deeper understanding of this, uh, person I was proud to have called ... friend.
  • Of my friend I can say only say this: Of all the soles I have encountered in my cleaning, (EMOTIONAL PAUSE) hers were the most scu... (VOICE BREAKING) SCUFF-RESISTANT!
  • Crewmen begin to dig a hole in the presumably holographic terrain.
  • Wait a second. Something seems wrong about that.
  • Ashes to ashes, dust to duaaaaaaaahhh...
  • Pay no attention to them. They're just extras we hired to fill the room.
  • A small section of iron-looking fence helps lend to the illusion of increased depth even though you know the real size of the HoloSuite.
  • Stellar's coffin sits awaiting the finish of the service.
  • Come on! You know him!
  • It's the familiar ComPost transporter pad -- the only device to break up the otherwise soothing setting.
  • It's a holographic gravedigger.
  • This setting is idyllic. You know in a place deep inside of you, despite your emotional thickness, that this is what Stellar would have wanted.
  • The sky is the proverbial azure that so many humans find soothing and reminiscent of home (unless, of course, they're from LA or Denver).
  • Visually perfect trees -- described by some higher handicap types as Golfball Trajectory Adjusters -- add a beauty and serenity to the setting. Yes, Stellar would have liked this. (Especially if she weren't the center of attention.)
  • The sensor pad feels warm and smooth -- like a laminated baby's bottom.
  • This is the tube bottom.
  • This is the intake/exhaust tube for the on-ship transporter. This is what sucks you here and there.
  • The yellow flowers, even though synthetically created, are very reminiscent of ones you once witnessed in a hallucination.

420.msgEdit

  • Stellar, you picked up my homing signal! I ... I can't believe I actually made it work. Now no one can say I spent a little bit too much free time in the bathroom with Popular Tecktronics.
  • Popular Tecktronics. Who are you trying to kid? I know what you were "reading" in there.
  • What was that voice, Roger? I thought I heard something.
  • Pay no attention, Stellar. It was probably just, ah, mechanical flatulence from the ship.
  • Anyway, we received a transmission from a nearby StarCon communications monitoring platform. They told us of some unusual signal originating from the area of Polysorbate LX. We dialed it in, scanned the coordinates, and found you.
  • So, what are you doing in this sector, Stellar? I thought you were stationed on the SCS Heinz 57.
  • I am. I had some leave accumulated and decided to take it. Uh, this is kind of embarrassing for me.
  • I actually came to see you. I've been thinking about you a lot lately and I was curious about what you'd been up to, so I decided to visit. When I arrived here I found you had just left for shore leave on Polysorbate. I decided to follow you down and try and catch up with you.
  • When I got to that dump of an inn and found you'd been kidnapped by those thugs, I searched around but could find no trace of where they'd taken you. That certainly is a strange place.
  • I decided to beam back up to the deepship and try to locate you through your transport communicator signal. When I'd returned, I found you'd left it up here on the ship. I didn't know what to do then, until that call came through from the StarCon installation. You're a lucky man, Wilco.
  • Uh, yeah, I ... I guess I am.
  • If you hadn't gotten there when you did, I'd probably be a victim of some serious cement poisoning after those geeks chucked me off that balcony.
  • Terrace.
  • What?
  • Well, actually it was a terrace.
  • Whatever.
  • Thanks, Stellar. I sure owe you a big one.
  • I'd sure like to collect that sometime.
  • But let's talk about you and me. Perhaps I could take you to dinner sometime soon.
  • I'd like that, Stellar. I'd like that a lot.
  • The thing is that I kind of have a ... kind of a, relationship with another and I wouldn't feel very comfortable about that. I mean, it ... it wouldn't be fair to her. Do you understand?
  • (TO HIMSELF) Not to mention the fact I'd be wearing my sphincter for a necklace if Beatrice ever found out.
  • I hope you do understand, Stellar. I like you. I ... I think I even more than like you. I don't know where I got this inordinate sense of loyalty toward Beatrice.
  • I believe the word that explains that is FEAR.
  • Pound sand, Pal!
  • Pardon?
  • Never mind. I was just clearing my throat, uh ... must be a furball.
  • Please know that, were the situation any different, I'd be making that date with you right now.
  • Oh, I see. Friends, coworkers, buddies -- that's all this is going to be. Guess I knew it somewhere inside, I just didn't want to believe it.
  • I guess I admire your trueness of heart, however misplaced, but I feel much more inclined to damn you for it. I know, that's selfish, but it's how I feel.
  • I must admit that it shows something more about you, more depth of character than I gave you credit for, Wilco. Well, I'm patient. If you ever have a change of heart ... (PAUSE)
  • (SUDDENLY MUCH MORE BUSINESSLIKE AND PROFESSIONAL) Well, Roger, um ... we should, ah ... we should see what we can find out about those subhuman walking dumpsters that had such a keen interest in you. I don't suppose you heard their names?
  • No, but I did get this neat Personal Grooming Assistant. It needs a little cleaning, but ...
  • That's great, Roger! Don't clean it, though. Take it to the Sickbay. There's a DNA analyzer there. We can scan the contents and perhaps use the results to get some names and information about these guys.
  • Good thinking, Stellar. I probably would've thought of it -- eventually.
  • Yeah, I'm sure you would have, Roger. Look, I've got to go to Sickbay and get some treatment for my back after that not-so-graceful rescue.
  • Oh, yeah, that. Uh, Sorry. Well um, I'll see you there.
  • This is the trusty ComPost, as found in all other locations aboard DeepShip 86.
  • I wouldn't try that if I were you. He may not react too favorably.
  • This is the Transporter control panel. The droid assigned here handles all transport duties from this station.
  • You give it a tap but nothing happens.
  • Any unassimilated sub-atomic particles from the transport process are deposited here. This helps to keep the transporter pads dust-free. And don't worry, they almost never have any problems with important parts not making it through the transport process properly.
  • It's a sealed component. The seal would not be necessary were it not for curious losers like yourself.
  • It's a flux condenser. You haven't a clue what it does, but it looks kind of cool.
  • That was fine for Polysorbate but you can't do that here.
  • These pipes recirculate the used coolant from the Transport scanner, recooling it enroute.
  • It's tolerant of humans -- to a point. You'd best leave it alone and get back to business.
  • This droid is the teleporter station technician. It's all business.
  • It's interested only in its job. It has not one speck of personality. In fact, it could make you look like the life of any party.
  • This is one of the transporter pads. Crew members stand here while the transporter sequence is initiated. This places them in the target area for the subatomic particle scanner located above each one.
  • This isn't Polysorbate. They build things a little better on these StarCon tubs. Not a lot, but better.
  • This pipe feeds the spare particles collector.
  • The Transport Room is a very important place aboard any StarCon ship, and for safety reasons tends to be one of the cleanest. You ought to know.
  • It's called a superstructure. You hardly fit the description of someone who could have the slightest effect on it. Besides, you don't want to mess with something that maintains the structural integrity of the ship.
  • But then, it is you we're talking about here. Nonetheless, pay no more attention to it.
  • Due to its proximity within the ship, many of the superstructure elements of DeepShip pass through the Transport Chamber.
  • You'll probably remember this quite well since abandoning ... er, escaping from dangerous situations. After all, it is your forte.
  • The Transport alcove contains transport pads for up to five crew members and/or supplies. Above each is a subatomic particle scanner.
  • They're useless to you as well as to the ship.
  • No one's perfect. If you were able to see slightly higher than the graphic allows you'd notice that the pipes mysteriously end as if an error had been made in the ship's design.

430.msgEdit

  • Sometime later in 8-Rear ...
  • Hello, Roger. Please join me in consuming something.
  • (SLIGHTLY DEJECTED) Thanks, Sydney.
  • You seem ... uptight.
  • Say what? Upright? What're you talking about, Sydney?
  • Uptight was the word. Perhaps that is too archaic a reference for you. It would have been more effective to say that you seem concerned.
  • Oh. Yeah, I do have a thing or two ... well, at least something, on my mind.
  • I am sorry to hear this. I hope your concerns are soon alleviated.
  • Thanks, Syd. I do have to come up with some solutions.
  • Yeah, just walk over and feel 'em up. I'm sure they'll appreciate it. And we're sure you'll enjoy it when you're the recipient of some nice phaser blast ventilation.
  • Don't interrupt them. They're on break. Besides, you stand less of a chance of being insulted or shot down. A guy can only take so much of that.
  • I guess I should pick up Sydney's arm before someone hurls and I end up having to clean it up.
  • This is your standard ComPost panel, where you can get information, travel to other ship locations, or just pretend to be doing some work.
  • ComPosts don't respond to voice commands. What do you think this is, science fiction?
  • The ComPost pad feels hard and rounded, like standing on a giant contact lens.
  • (And you'll notice it appears to follow you around the room!)
  • This is the platform you use for Intraship Transport.
  • Nice pad!
  • Wow, this guy's really pounding down the popcorn. If he keeps it up at this rate, an intervention may be called for.
  • Now this guy is a cool one. He's slammin' brews, like many of the folks on the Space Quest team are going to do once they ship this chart buster.
  • A couple of female crewmembers, neither of which have ever given you the time of starday, are sitting and gabbing away, completely ignoring the poor slob who sat down to introduce himself. Don't worry, that would never happen to you.
  • This poor slob is trying to impress the two women he's sitting near by showing them how much he can drink. Yeah, that's always a sure way to impress the babes.
  • Two women looking very much like girl scouts are badgering the poor alien-looking guy they're sitting with. They must be trying to unload more of those damn cookies.


  • Eatin', drinkin', and lookin' at the stars. Sounds like something YOU'D do on a date -- especially since you're usually alone.
  • My, oh my. It would appear that Sydney's head has a life of its own today.
  • And we thought the "Elvis 1987" poster in our office was tasteless.
  • They're too high overhead to reach. In any event, you've managed to overcome your arboreal tendencies and are now perfectly content to live on land.
  • The ambient light in 8-Rear is soft and diffused, and the light fixtures blend in with the decor to a fare-thee-well.
  • Even standing on tiptoe, your tongue isn't quite long enough.
  • It's hard, cool and round, and seems to be doing a fine job of supporting the weight of the ceiling.
  • These pillars stretch three decks up, to the high vaulted ceiling of 8-Rear. Your neck bones grind unpleasantly as you look up at the top of the pillars.
  • Ouch.
  • It's like talking to the wall, only rounder.
  • An unusual plant specimen that someone left behind, it appears to be thriving here. Perhaps it prefers beer and popcorn to fertilizer and U-Grow-It lamps.
  • A friendly "Mr. Soylent" food replicator stands in wait to serve anyone who wants a snack.
  • (Technically, these aren't replicators, they're wormholes into the Restaurant Universe. But the food still tastes replicated, because the chefs in the Restaurant Universe are mostly ex-Monolith Burger employees and know nothing about food.)
  • Replicator, Replicator, make me something to eat!
  • Nothing happens. This is no fairy tale.
  • You can't detach that without a Zyquest Torque Phase Shifter, and who'd want to anyway?
  • This is 8-Rear, the ship's lounge. Here crewmembers come to relax, drink, eat, converse, party, hit on each other, brawl, hurl, pass out, and intrude on each others' personal space.
  • Nah, I get tired of talking to the same old group of losers.
  • Under normal circumstances (such as while you're supposed to be working), you'd feel free to sit down and drink and eat to your heart's content, but duty calls.
  • The anti-grav seats make sure you're always the proper distance from the table and that you're never short of leg room.
  • Once again, you waste time talking to invisible people.
  • And once again, you are terribly offended that they do not reply.
  • It feels warm and informative.
  • This sign, and the menu screen attached, indicate that this is a Mr. Soylent™ food replicator.
  • It makes you wonder what kind of kickback StarCon is receiving for this blatant plug.
  • How do, Mr. Soylent.
  • Trying to talk to it? It's just a sign, Roger. Think about it.
  • Two scientific dudes stand by the back window, talking stars. It's hard to say anything sarcastic about them since star gazers are inherently cool.
  • Sure, it's hard not to want to stroke Sydney's buffed exterior, but that would be impolite.
  • It's your old non-organic friend Circuit Sydney.
  • Hey, you just got that from him. Perhaps you should use it first.
  • Sydney won't be interested in talking to you any further until you return his body parts.
  • Sydney, I have a favor I'd like to ask of you.
  • Flame away, Roger. You know I'd give you my right appendage if you needed it.
  • Funny you should say that, Sydney. I kind of have this situation where that very item could come in handy.
  • Really? Well, I was merely saying that metaphorically ... (INTERRUPTED BY ROGER)
  • You really are a great friend, Sydney. That'll come in real handy. I can't thank you enough, Sydney.
  • Well, if you really are seriously in need of it, I suppose I could lend it to you.
  • You will get it right back to me, won't you, Roger?
  • Oh, yeah. You bet your nut flanges, Sydney.
  • Sydney, I kind of need another favor. I need one of your eyes.
  • Pardon me, Roger. For a second, I thought you said you also wanted one of my eyes. I must have my auditory circuits diagnosed.
  • Well, actually, Sydney, I could use one of your eyes.
  • Are you certain, Roger?
  • Well, I guess if you really need it ...
  • Oh, I do. I really do, Sydney. You're a mechanized lifesaver.
  • You will return them soon, right, Roger?
  • Oh, uh, of course, Sydney. Real soon. Listen, I got a couple of things I've got to attend to. I'll see you soon. Thanks, Sydney.
  • As long as you say it will be soon, Roger.
  • Oh yeah. See you soon, Sydney.
  • Roger, are you here to return my structural loans?
  • Soon, Sydney. Soon.
  • Well, I do hope it's soon. People are starting to look at me in a strange manner.
  • You got it, Sydney. I'll be back soon.
  • There's nothing on the table to take.
  • The anti-grav tables are specially designed to compensate for the ship's motions, minimizing drink spills while under enemy attack. Now you can drink an Alien Secretion during a hull breech and still not spill a drop.
  • Yes, your eyeballs will implode within 2.3 seconds, but if and when you make it back from Sickbay, your drink will still be there waiting for you.
  • Sorry, this isn't your station.
  • Apparently you're unclear on the concept of a televised image. There is nobody inside the screen.
  • This viewscreen lets 8-Rear patrons watch the subspace transmissions of major league Hairball games, Monday Night Bunionball, and the occasional pay-per-view Orat Fights.
  • You lick a little dust off the screen.
  • Mmm, tangy!
  • You stop short of causing a terrible disaster by reminding yourself that these windows are not supposed to open.
  • A wistful vista of space moves silently by, revealing the wonder and majesty of billions of cavorting galaxies and stars.
  • Hey, civilizations out there! I can't hear you from here, you'll have to talk louder!
  • The quadruple-thick plastosteel window is cold to the touch.
  • A peaceful panorama of light, color, and limitless black space drifts quietly by the window, the infinite flow and ebb of matter and energy dancing around itself in a never-ending light show of creation.
  • I want to see something blow up.
  • You give the window a lick and a promise.

435.msgEdit

  • Oliver Brelsford

Cinnamon Roll Man and Ass-Kicker

  • Quotes:


"Stop playing those damn net games!"

  • Sterling Butts

Tupperware Man

  • Quotes:


We never hear any.

  • Steve "SuperBone" Conrad

And it ain't only 'cause he plays the Trombone

  • Quotes:


"It's been said before."

  • Arijit De

Microwaver of Very Old TV Dinners

  • Quotes:


"Pick a net game. Any net game. Then you can kick my ass."

  • Michael Hutchison

Art Director and Virago Driver

  • Quotes:


"I feel so used."

  • Michael Lytton

The Wandering Programmer

  • Thanks to Tricia, Rachel, and Nathan for still loving their absentee father.
  • Hello to:


Frank and Christine Roan

Todd and Nancy Powers

Chuck and Kathy Lacy

Gary, Janet, and Kate Buss

  • Quotes:


"Abuse happens, pal. It's just a matter of targets."

  • Josh Mandel

Abandoner of Teams

  • But a lovely, lovely man.
  • Jon Meek

Lead QA, but a nice guy anyway

  • Quotes:


"Don't bug me."

  • Scott Murphy

Team Slut, when Barbie's not available

  • Quotes:


"That really raises my Big Top."

  • Karin Nestor

Lover of Cool Jazz

  • Frankie Powell

Cool artist and Cooler Mom

  • Memorable Quotes
  • "That's just a little bit too much 'butterflies-in-the-trees' kinda *** for me."


Scott Murphy

  • "What for? It's only Bill."


Oliver

  • "We try for a free lunch, and all we get is a ****ty quote."


Michael Lytton

  • "I'll drink whatever's in my face."


Bill Shockley

  • "You'll find a lot of things in my hand."


Bill Shockley

  • "Carbonate a beverage for me, will ya?"


Scott Murphy

  • "Now let's pretend I'm really stupid, OK?"


Scott Murphy

  • "What kind of Ho question is that?"


Steve Conrad

  • Bill "ShockMeister" Shockley

Team Entertainer

  • Quotes


"Take your reliable guy and kick him in the ass for me."

  • Barry Sundt

Artist and CRX Pilot

  • Space Quest 6:

This Sequel Doesn't Suck


The Renegade Credits

  • Chris Willis

Art boy

  • Quotes:


"I just want to meet a girl I can fart in front of."

440.msgEdit

  • Nice shot. It looks like he may chow down on it any second.
  • No amount of brute strength can pry these doors apart, even if you had some.
  • This massive door leads to the Shuttlebay. Since the Shuttlebay is completely depressurized every time a shuttle lands or takes off, this door must be incredibly thick and impenetrable.
  • Not unlike you!
  • Open the Shuttlebay Doors, Hal!
  • He insists on slipping that line in somewhere in every sequel.
  • An interesting thought, but you wouldn't want to give him the wrong idea about your intentions.
  • Yep, he's nonfunctional, all right.
  • O, mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble.
  • That's Chesbro, one of the Shuttlebay guards.
  • That is an incapacitated security guard. I think it's time to spend a lot less time leisurely touring and a lot more time trying to get your can out of this place.
  • This is your dear crewmate, Chesbro.
  • You consider saying "hi" until you remember how dedicated he is to his job, and you wouldn't want him to get in trouble for slacking off while on duty.
  • I wonder why you don't worry about that for yourself?
  • This is the standard ComPost, your combination information station and room-to-room transporter. It's laminated to keep it clean and in good working order.
  • Voice activization was abandoned many years ago when they couldn't engineer it to accept contractions.
  • There's no need to attempt it again.
  • You're being watched!
  • Mmmm! A nice fatty doughnut. Magnum will probably scarf this down. After all, he needs to maintain his boyish, tub o' guts figure.
  • No can do!
  • This handy-dandy scrolling board announces incoming and outgoing shuttles.
  • During the quieter stretches, it's also used to display the scores when they hold donkey basketball games in the Shuttlebay.
  • An interesting idea. What are you up to, Roger?
  • It's one of two buttons you must push simultaneously to open the Shuttlebay door.
  • Careful! You could rupture the filament and lose containment in the anti-halogen bulb!
  • The wall sconces help make this painting very moody and atmospheric, don't you think?
  • Nah. You already tried throwing the plain doughnut.
  • I really don't think that's a good idea. He's not the touchy-feely type.
  • Magnum Opus belongs to an elite StarCon fighting force called The Flying Flingers (FF for short).
  • My, this guy would give Sybil a run for her money.
  • This is Magnum Opus. You owe him 200 buckazoids from a lost bet. In other words, scram.
  • Magnum doesn't talk. He fancies himself to be like one of those Buckingham Palace types.
  • It feels really swank.
  • This is the entrance to the Shuttlebay. Since the Shuttlebay is a hazardous area, and since visiting dignitaries often pass through these doors, security is extremely tight here.
  • Shhhh. This is a high-security area. What were you thinking?
  • It feels highly plasticized.
  • The teleport tube platform looks pretty much identical to all the other teleport tubes around here.
  • It's just a platform. You can't talk to it, so give it up.
  • You can't reach the top from where you are. In fact, from where you are, you'll NEVER reach the top!
  • It's a tube top!

450.msgEdit

  • The shuttle's alarm is now deactivated.
  • The shuttle's alarm is now activated.
  • Hey! Here's your fish!
  • This tristeel airlock-strength security door prevents anyone from exiting or entering the Shuttlebay without being properly screened.
  • The door is too thick. Nobody on the other side can hear you.
  • You won't be doing any refueling around here, Bub. Not since you were caught smoking while filling the O2 tanks ...
  • This refueling pillar signifies parking section F8.
  • Instead of "F8," this post used to have a picture of a large cartoon mouse, but StarCon removed it after being threatened with legal action (by the same company that lost its shirt on "AndromaDizney," the first amusement park on Andromeda).
  • It doesn't have time to support the ship and you at the same time.
  • It's a tall, solidly-built, sturdy support that simply stands there twenty-four hours a day and unflinchingly does its part to maintain the integrity of the ship.
  • So what would you have in common to talk about?
  • He's waxing the ship.
  • She can't take much more of this, Captain.
  • A quick feel of the tower reveals only a few small microfractures. Whoever's job it is to find these things will probably find them in plenty of time to prevent a catastrophe.
  • This support is labelled "F9" so that entities can easily find where they parked their shuttles, pods, runabouts, and other miniships.
  • The DeepShip's shuttle has a reserved spot in this row.
  • Hey, support tower F9!
  • That takes you by surprise for a moment, 'til you realize it didn't really say anything at all ...
  • ... the third shuttle on the right is a ventriloquist.
  • You can feel the rumble of the ship's engines thrumming through every solid surface.
  • It's so nice to know all those hamsters are down in Engineering, running their little hearts out!
  • This large, well-ventilated Shuttlebay is probably the largest single room on the ship.
  • Which is why you can often find Andorian Megopeds playing hackey-sack in here.
  • Hello ...
  • Hello...
  • This shuttle appears to be triple-locked with a security bypass and a redundancy cutoff circuit. Those rebels are so paranoid.
  • You hear a disembodied voice saying, "Remember your parking space, Luke ..."
  • Is anyone in there?
  • You hear nothing but oohs, aahs, grunts, and growls.
  • Maybe whoever's inside is just trying to get a little wookie!
  • You run your hand enviously along the wide, bulbous lines of the Gateway.
  • Nice nacelles!
  • Ooh, a mint-condition '57 Gateway Bel Air! With mag thrusters, overhead lifters, and four-pod barrels!
  • Ahoy, Matey! Anyone aboard?
  • That's some cherry flange you've got there!
  • I like it! No, really!
  • Hello?
  • OK, fine, be that way.
  • It's probably a repro anyway.
  • This baby's a Sleek Streak Corsair with pushbutton tranny and dual airbags.
  • These balsawood shuttles are really maneuverable, but they don't last two seconds in a phaser battle.
  • Argh, Matey!
  • You do your best imitation of one of the Pirates of Pestulon, but it falls on deaf ears.
  • The hatch to this shuttle is locked, so you peek in the window.
  • There doesn't seem to be anything in there except a rag that says, "My father was betrayed at Khitomer and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."
  • Some guy wearing a Delco Air Filter on his face parked this shuttle.
  • Any little genius teenage brats in there?
  • No?
  • Good, let's keep it that way!
  • You search in vain for a way to open the hatch to this shuttle.
  • This Kiapian runabout strikes fear into the heart of the Japaxian Empire:
  • It's a good compact shuttle for under 8500 buckazoids!
  • Hey, who does your detailing?
  • There's no response.
  • You try to get into the Tiberian Skimmer, but it's locked.
  • Still, you know perfectly well you could get into it if you wanted to.
  • You just don't want to, that's all.
  • This Tiberian Skimmer may look intimidating, but it's seriously underpowered.
  • And that clearsteel compound cockpit is particularly vulnerable to meteorites, barion radiation, and large insects.
  • Avast ye! All hands on the poop deck!
  • Speaking of poop decks, don't you have some janitoring to do somewhere?
  • If you were aiming for the shuttle hatch, you missed.
  • But if you just wanted to inspect the hull of the shuttle for microfractures and embedded particulate matter, you were incredibly successful.
  • It's a standard StarCon shuttle, built for speed and maneuverability.
  • Unfortunately, with a budget of only 550,000 buckazoids, they had to leave off certain amenities ... like airtight seals, decent shields, and restrooms.
  • Anyone alive in there?
  • There's no answer. Not a good sign.
  • Careful. If you scratch this baby and someone finds out, you're going to need a positronic neural-assist circuit to help you swallow your lunch.
  • What a beauty! A true museum-quality McKinley Ultramarine Bluerunner!
  • It will be mine. Oh, yes. It will be mine.
  • In your dreams.
  • I'd buy that for a dollar!
  • Oh, yeah, real smart. Let's go poking around inside a pod that's probably carrying a half-dozen miniature face-hugging saliva-dripping face-eating exo-skeletal alien piranha things.
  • And while we're at it, let's split up so that we're all alone and defenseless, okay?
  • NOT!
  • Some woman driver parked her shuttle here and contaminated the whole DeepShip with these acid-bleeding multi-jawed exo-skeletal aliens, and you had a really huge mess to clean up.
  • Just for that, Kielbasa refused to validate her parking slip.
  • Is there anyone in there that won't eat me alive if I come in?
  • From inside, you hear a muffled, "Nope!"
  • This might be the one. It looks familiar. Unfortunately, it's locked.
  • This is the hatch leading into the StarCon shuttle.
  • You can't take these supports away ...
  • ... at least, not now.
  • These narrow steel beams serve a most crucial function: they permit greater stress on the tower supports, and they prevent moving shuttles from dinging the towers.
  • Okay, so that's two crucial functions.
  • You support rods are doing a good job.
  • Keep it up!
  • You'd need double-naught-seven security clearance to reach this walkway via the ComPost.
  • Above the door is a maintenance and observation catwalk.
  • Anyone up there? Yo!
  • You need the appropriate clearance to get to the Shuttlebay Operations Workstation.
  • And you don't even have the appropriate clearance to go to the john.
  • This workstation allows manual control of the shuttle airlock and other functions, most of which are routinely handled automatically by the ship's computers.
  • They're incomprehensible to you, so don't even fool with them.

460.msgEdit

  • KNOWN RACES A-E
  • ANDROMEDAN DECAPUSS
  • -- EXTINCT --


SEE: KERONIAN TENTICULAR SLIMESUCKER

  • ANDROMEDANS
  • THESE REPUGNANT CREATURES ARE KNOWN FOR THEIR MOHAWK DO'S AND THEIR WELL-DEVELOPED PREHENSILE SNOUTS, WITH WHICH THEY CAN PICK UP SMALL OBJECTS, GIVE THEMSELVES NECKRUBS, AND UNLEASH PROJECTILE MUCOSA AT ENEMIES.
  • THE MOST FAMOUS ANDROMEDANS ARE THE "TWO GUYS," WHO ROSE ABOVE THEIR HUMBLE ANDROMEDAN BEGINNINGS TO BECOME TWO OF THE MOST POPULAR AND SUCCESSFUL GAME DESIGNERS IN THE GALAXY.
  • THEY WERE ONCE KIDNAPPED AND PRESSED INTO SERVITUDE BY THE NOTORIOUS SCUMSOFT CORPORATION, BUT WERE LATER RESCUED BY AN UNIDENTIFIED WORKER.
  • MOST ANDROMEDANS PREFER FLAVORED FOREIGN COFFEES, SUCH AS HAZELNUT MOCHA MISTAKE AND VANILLA COTTAGE CHEESE.
  • BHIGDEELERS
  • NOTE THAT STARCON HAS RECENTLY DROP-SHIPPED EMERGENCY SUPPLIES OF "HOOKED ON PHONICS" TO THE BHIGDEELERS ON OMEGA BHIGDEEL.
  • THE PRIMARY CIVILIZATION OF THE PLANET MEGA BHIGDEEL IN THE SECTOR B SUBCLUSTER. (SEE: KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL).
  • BICRANIAL CRUDSNORTER
  • IMAGINE A CRUDSNORTER, ONLY WITH A BIFURCATED CRANIUM. BICRANIAL CRUDSNORTERS ARE LIMBER, SIMIAN CREATURES WITH FRONTAL LOBES THE SIZE OF TALOSIAN BINARY CASABAS.
  • ONE WOULD ASSUME THIS MAKES THEM SMARTER THAN THE AVERAGE SIMIAN. ONE WOULD BE VERY WRONG. BICRANIAL CRUDSNORTERS PROVE THE OLD ADAGE THAT IT'S NOT HOW BIG YOUR BRAIN IS, IT'S WHAT YOU DO WITH IT.
  • JUST LIKE THEIR MONOCRANIAL COUSINS, THEY SPEND MOST OF THEIR TIME SNORTING CRUD AND THEN HACKING IT OUT AGAIN IN EXTENDED COUGHING FITS THAT OFTEN LAST UP TO TWELVE HOURS.
  • WHILE THEY'RE NOT GAGGING AND CHOKING, BICRANIAL CRUDSNORTERS ENJOY SWIMMING, CYCLING, JAZZ AND EATING GIBBERELIAN DUSTMITES.
  • BJORN
  • THE BJORN, A RACE OF HALF-HUMANOID, HALF-KITCHEN-APPLIANCE CREATURES, ARE THE SCOURGE OF THE KNOWN UNIVERSE. THE BJORN SEEK OUT CIVILIZATIONS IN ORDER TO ASSIMILATE THEM.
  • THE COLLECTED KNOWLEDGE OF EACH CIVILIZATION IS THEN APPLIED TO THE TASK OF CREATING NEWER, SHINIER KITCHEN APPLIANCES. THIS IS HOW THE PRESTO HOT DOGGER AND DAZEY SEAL-A-MEAL WERE INVENTED.
  • THE LEADER OF THE BJORN IS THE TOASTER-SKULLED NOCUTICLES. STARCON HAS POSTED A REWARD FOR THE DEACTIVIZATION OF NOCUTICLES, WHO MAY BE RECOGNIZED BY A SOCKET JUST BELOW THE ANTERIOR CRUST CONTROL.
  • THIS SOCKET IS TYPICALLY USED TO CONNECT NOCUTICLES TO VARIOUS POWER SOURCES IN ORDER TO RECHARGE HIM AND, THROUGH HIM, THE ENTIRE BJORN COLLECTIVE.
  • THE GREAT IRONY IS THAT THE BJORN NEVER SPEND ANY TIME IN THE KITCHEN, PREFERRING TO SEND OUT. THEY EAT A PECULIAR MIXTURE OF BATTERIES, NUTS, BOLTS, AND REPROCESSED ORGANIC SLUDGE.
  • BOERTHNIC BOULDER BEAVER
  • THE HERBIVOROUS BOULDER BEAVER IS MOST RECOGNIZABLE FOR ITS POWERFUL PREHENSILE TAIL. UNLIKE THE TAILS OF MOST BEAVERS, WHICH ARE STRONG ENOUGH TO FLING MUD ...
  • ... THE BOULDER BEAVER CAN USE HIS TAIL TO BENCH ABOUT 340 LBS FOR 3 SETS OF 15 REPS WITHOUT EVEN STOPPING FOR A FRUIT-FLAVORED SPORTS BEVERAGE.
  • HENCE IT CAN, IN FACT, CREATE A DAM OUT OF BOULDERS OR NEARLY ANY OTHER MATERIAL, INCLUDING (BUT NOT LIMITED TO) MOLTEN STEEL, LAVA, AND STELLAR CORE FRAGMENTS.
  • THE BEAVER PREFERS TO EAT THE SWEET, SPICY LEAVES OF THE CREEPY HABANERO EUCALYPTUS VINE (REPLICATOR #6830620).
  • EARNON SEA URCHIN
  • THE EARNON SEA URCHIN IS A PITIFUL LITTLE CREATURE AND DOESN'T REALLY CARE WHO KNOWS IT. IT CRIES CONSTANTLY, WHICH WAS ONLY RECENTLY DISCOVERED SINCE THE CREATURE LIVES UNDERWATER.
  • IT ALSO REFUSES TO PLAY WITH THE OTHER EARNON SEA URCHINS. HOWEVER, SOME OF ITS FEELINGS ARE UNDERSTANDABLE.
  • AFTER ALL, IT'S JUST ABOUT THE UGLIEST SUCKER ON EARNON. ITS SPINY QUILLS MAKE ROMANCE A TEDIOUS AND IMPRACTICAL AFFAIR, AND ITS GONADS ARE HIGHLY PRIZED AS SUSHI. THIS WOULD MAKE YOU CRANKY, TOO.
  • ESTROSIAN SEA SLUGS
  • THE MULTITENTACLED SEA SLUG IS A LARGE, MENACING CARNIVORE WITH A SQUIDLIKE BEAK. ITS SPECTACULAR ADAPTIVE ABILITIES AND MATCHLESS FEROCITY ENSURE THAT IT CAN EASILY SURVIVE FOR EXTENDED PERIODS UNDERWATER, ON LAND, OR IN SPACE.
  • HOWEVER, DUE TO ITS NUMEROUS DISGUSTING HABITS AND UNRESTRAINED LIFESTYLE, THE ESTROSIAN SEA SLUG WOULD NOT HOLD UP FOR MORE THAN FIVE MINUTES UNDER THE SCRUTINY OF THE LIBERAL MEDIA.
  • ESTROSIAN SEA SLUGS EAT ALL MANNER OF CREATURES, PARTICULARLY AQUATIC ONES. THEIR FAVORITE FOOD OF ALL, THOUGH, IS THE LATEX BABE OF ESTROS (SEE: LATEX BABES).
  • COMMUNICATIONS ARE OFF-LINE DUE TO SHORT-SIGHTED DESIGN WORK. WHEN WE RESUME SERVICE, YOU'LL ENJOY 20% SAVINGS WHENEVER YOU SEND SUBSPACE TRANSMISSIONS TO ANYONE ON YOUR BORES AND MORTAL ENEMIES LIST.
  • COMMUNICATIONS MENU
  • PURSUANT TO STARCON R/R SUBDIRECTIVE G-145-938, ALL ACCESS TO CYBERSPACE FROM STARCON VESSELS AND OFFICES IS HEREBY TERMINATED. WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE.
  • I guess the cyberspace jack on these things doesn't work. That's another thing StarCon cheaped out on.
  • It looks like a cyberjack plug receptor.
  • DATABASE MENU
  • ENTITY DATABASE
  • SHIP'S FUNCTIONS
  • SCIENCE DATABASE
  • BACK
  • MORE
  • NEXT PG.
  • PREV. PG.
  • That must not work at this time.
  • Nothing happens.
  • That slot takes one of those data cards.
  • DNA SEQUENCING
  • PLEASE INSERT DATACART NOW.
  • THIS IS THE DNA PATTERN OF NIGEL RANCID.



           *FILE CLOSED*
  • KNOWN RACES
  • KNOWN RACES F-M
  • LABION SWAMP SLURPIE
  • THE SWAMP SLURPIE IS BELIEVED TO BE A HIDEOUS, GROTESQUE HALF-FISH, HALF-REPTILE (ALSO KNOWN AS AN "AMPHIBIAN"). NOBODY'S QUITE SURE, BECAUSE NOBODY WHO'S SEEN ONE UP CLOSE HAS EVER LIVED TO DESCRIBE IT.
  • WITNESSES ARE USUALLY FOUND SLIGHTLY DECAPITATED OR WITH A MODEST DISCOUNT IN THE CRANIAL REGION. WE CAN ONLY ASSUME THEY EAT EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING.
  • LABION TERROR BEAST
  • THE TERROR BEAST IS APTLY NAMED, SINCE IT SPENDS MOST OF ITS LIFE IN TERROR. ALTHOUGH THE TERROR BEAST COULD EASILY DEFEAT A HUMANOID, IT USUALLY AVOIDS CONFLICT UNLESS FACED WITH A PARTICULARLY WIMPY OPPONENT.
  • MOST OF ITS TIME IS SPENT KEEPING TO ITSELF, AVOIDING PUBLIC APPEARANCES AND BANQUETS. ITS PREFERRED DIET IS COMPOSED MAINLY OF THE ROOTS OF THE STARSHOCK BUSH (REPLICATOR #6422803).
  • TERROR BEASTS ARE BORN WITH EXTREMELY POWERFUL LEG MUSCLES. HOWEVER, ONE LEG IS SHORTER THAN THE OTHER, SO THE BEAST TENDS TO SPIN IN A TIGHT CIRCLE AS IT ZOOMS ACROSS THE LABION LANDSCAPE.
  • THIS CREATES A WHIRLWIND EFFECT THAT CAN PROVE PARTICULARLY HAZARDOUS TO TRAILER PARKS.
  • A HIGHLY INTELLIGENT CREATURE, THE BEAST ENJOYS FIGURING OUT SMALL PUZZLES, AND WILL OFTEN STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF A HUNT TO SOLVE A MATCHSTICK PUZZLE, LOGIC PROBLEM, OR RIDDLE.
  • CURIOUSLY, THOUGH, THE BEAST HATES ARCADE SEQUENCES.
  • LATEX BABES
  • THESE NATIVES OF THE PLANET ESTROS ARE USUALLY NUBILE HUMANOID FEMALES, ALTHOUGH THE OCCASIONAL WILY, STRINGY MALE IS NOT UNHEARD OF (AND ARE PERIPHERALLY NECESSARY FOR THE PROPAGATION OF THE SPECIES).
  • TURN-ONS INCLUDE CONSTRUCTING THE FINEST UNDERWATER CRAFT IN THE GALAXY, ARC-WELDING, AND SHOPPING; TURN-OFFS ARE ESTROSIAN SEA SLUGS, PLAQUE BUILD-UP ABOVE THE GUM LINE, AND TWO-TIMING JANITORS.
  • FAVORITE FOODS ARE EELWORT SASHIMI (REPLICATOR #8771877) AND ROASTED DRYMOUTH GOURAMI (REPLICATOR #2712090).
  • GOLANIAN GUTTER RATS
  • GOLANIAN GUTTER RATS ARE SO SLIMY, SNIVELING AND NASTY THAT THEY GIVE A BAD NAME TO ALL OTHER GUTTER RATS.
  • BUT OF ALL THEIR DESPICABLE HABITS, THE WORST IS THE FACT THAT THEY'RE THE LOUSIEST BOWLERS IN THE GALAXY, HENCE THEIR NAME.
  • NOT ONLY DO THEY RARELY BREAK 100, BUT THEY TALK LOUD AND CUSS WHEN OTHER PEOPLE ARE SERIOUSLY TRYING TO BOWL (YES, IT'S A CONTRADICTION IN TERMS!).
  • THEIR PREFERRED DIET IS THE BOWLING ALLEY COMBO: FRENCH FRIES, BURGERS, HOT DOGS, AND BEER (REPLICATOR #6762876).
  • GREEN SLIME
  • HALF ANIMAL, HALF VEGETABLE, AND HALF LOUSY MATHEMATICIAN, THE GREEN SLIME OF XENON IS A VAGUE BY-PRODUCT OF INDUSTRIAL WASTE AND ORGANIC COMPOUNDS COMBINED WITH A POWERFUL ELECTRIC CHARGE.
  • THE RESULTING LIFEFORM IS A SLOW-MOVING MASS OF GELATINOUS, ACIDIC PROTOPLASM WITH SIMPLE REFLEXES AND A VORACIOUS APPETITE. THIS MAKES IT IDEALLY SUITED TO DISSOLVING LOCKS AND APPEARING IN BAD HORROR MOVIES.
  • GREEN SLIME WILL EAT ANYTHING IN ITS PATH, DISSOLVING IT QUICKLY BUT NOT PAINLESSLY (IT REPORTEDLY FEELS LIKE BLASTING AN EXPOSED TOOTH NERVE WITH HOT SALTY IODINE USING A WATERPIK).
  • BIZARRELY, IT HAS NO SUCH EFFECT ON GLASS, MAKING IT ULTRA-CONVENIENT TO CARRY AROUND BITS OF GREEN SLIME IN AN ORDINARY JAR, AND INDEED IT WAS MARKETED THIS WAY UNDER THE NAME "FACE-B-GON." HORK CITY!
  • GRELL
  • AT ONE TIME MANY EONS AGO, GRELL WERE THE PRIMARY INHABITANTS OF KERONA. ARTIFACTS AND RUINS HAVE REVEALED MUCH ABOUT THEM: THEY WERE CREATURES OF IMMENSE SIZE, TOWERING SOME 30 TO 40 METERS TALL.
  • THEY WERE EXTREMELY UGLY AND COULDN'T BEAR TO LOOK AT ONE ANOTHER, WHICH IS WHY THEIR RACE DIED OUT ENTIRELY. THEY WERE HUNTER/GATHERERS, PREFERRING HUNTING GATHERERS TO GATHERING HUNTERS.
  • KERONIAN TENTICULAR SLIMESUCKER
  • THE KERONA TENTICULAR SLIMESUCKER, WHICH LIVES DEEP IN THE SUBTERRANEAN CAVERNS OF KERONA, HAS NEVER BEEN SEEN BY ANYBODY WHO'S LIVED TO PROVIDE A COMPLETE DESCRIPTION.
  • ALL THAT HAS EVER BEEN SEEN ARE THEIR SLIMY TENTACLES, WHICH ARE TENTACLE-LIKE AND SLIMY, RESEMBLING TENTACLE-LIKE SLIMY TENTACLES. ANYTHING FINDING ITS WAY INTO THESE TENTACLES IS FIRST SLIMED, THEN DEVOURED.
  • THIS IS AN APPROPRIATE MOMENT TO NOTE THAT "TENTACLES" COMES FROM THE ROOT "TEN TICKLES," SINCE THE ANDROMEDAN DECAPUSS, WITH ITS TEN SERPENTINE FLEXIBLE APPENDAGES, TICKLED ITS FOES TO DEATH.
  • THAT'S JUST ANOTHER FUN FACT TO KNOW AND TELL!
  • KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL
  • THE KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL HAS AN UNDESERVEDLY FIERCE REPUTATION DUE PRIMARILY TO ITS NAME OR, RATHER, TO WHAT ITS NAME HAS BECOME OVER THE COURSE OF GENERATIONS OF SLOPPY PRONOUNCIATION.
  • ORIGINALLY KNOWN AS THE "LONELY AND BEWILDERED SANDBILL," THE KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL IS A GENTLE, SLOW-MOVING HERBIVOROUS INSECT THAT WOULD RATHER SQUASH ITSELF FLAT THAN COME INTO CONTACT WITH ANY OTHER LIFEFORM.
  • THESE TINY INTROVERTED CREATURES ARE NATIVE TO THE PLANET OMEGA BIGHDEEL, THE ONLY PLANET WITH THE DISTINCTION OF HAVING ITS ENTIRE CIVILIZATION FLUNK PHONICS.
  • THIS LACK OF LINGUISTIC AGILITY IS SAID TO ACCOUNT FOR THE DISTORTION OF THE SANDBILL'S NAME, ALTHOUGH ANOTHER THEORY HAS BEEN PUT FORTH THAT THE "KILLER MAMMAL" APPELLATION IS MERELY DUE TO CENTURIES OF SARCASM.
  • THE KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL EATS DUST MITES (REPLICATOR #6838687). LOTS AND LOTS OF THEM.
  • KERONIANS
  • THE SENTIENT CIVILIZATION OF KERONA CONSISTS OF THE KERONIANS, A SECRETIVE AND SHY RACE OF SCHOLARLY OLD MEN. THEY DEVOTE THEIR LIVES TO THE PURSUIT AND DISSEMINATION OF KNOWLEDGE.
  • CONVERSATIONS WITH KERONIANS ARE LIABLE TO BE DRY, PEPPERED WITH OBSCURE AND DULL REFERENCES TO PLACES AND PEOPLE YOU'VE NEVER HEARD OF, AND FULL OF SELF-CONGRATULATORY RHETORIC.
  • MOST MEMBERS OF MENSA ARE KERONIANS.
  • MOST KERONIANS ARE VEGANS AND PREFER THE LOCAL FLORA (REPLICATOR #2580969). HOWEVER, SOME KERONIANS EAT THEIR OWN YOUNG, JUST SO THEY CAN KNOWINGLY SAY, "OH, YES, I'VE DONE THAT. WE TASTE LIKE CHICKEN."
  • KILLER CAVE BEAVER
  • THIS BEAVER'S EYESIGHT IS AMONG THE WORST IN THE GALAXY, MATCHED ONLY BY THE GIANT CATARACT BEAR OF PESTULON, AND THE BLIND PLUMMETING MOUNTAIN GOAT OF ANDROMEDA.
  • ALTHOUGH THE CAVE BEAVER IS HERBIVOROUS, IT FREQUENTLY ACCIDENTALLY KILLS OTHER CREATURES BECAUSE, UP CLOSE, THEY ALL LOOK LIKE TREE TRUNKS.
  • IT'S ONLY AFTER THE BEAVER HAS CHEWED ITS WAY THROUGH THE NEAREST "STURDY LIMB" THAT IT DISCOVERS THE LIMB IS SOME CREATURE'S ARM OR LEG. THUS THE DAMS MADE BY THE KILLER CAVE BEAVER ARE QUITE DISGUSTING.
  • THE KILLER CAVE BEAVER'S FAVORITE FOOD IS CLINGING GIRLFRIEND IVY (REPLICATOR #6588561).
  • LABION CAVE SQUID
  • THE LABION CAVE SQUID IS A FISHLIKE MAMMAL WHICH HAS NOT YET REALIZED THAT IT'S A LAND-DWELLER. THUS IT STILL TENDS TO SQUIRT INK, WHICH JUST LIES INEFFECTIVELY IN A PUDDLE ON THE GROUND AND GETS ON THE BOTTOMS OF YOUR BOOTS.
  • IT ALSO USES TYPICAL SQUIDLIKE FLEXING MOTIONS TO PROPEL ITSELF, A VERY INEFFICIENT MODE OF TRANSPORTATION WHEN MOVING THROUGH ROCKY TUNNELS.
  • SO THE LABION CAVE SQUID GETS A LOT OF NASTY CUTS AND SCRAPES AS IT TRIES TO FROG-KICK ITS WAY ACROSS ROUGH STONE FLOOR. THIS MAKES IT MORE CRANKY THAN EVER.
  • THE CAVE SQUID IS ALSO FRIGHTENED BY BOTH HUMANOIDS AND LIGHT, SINCE IT THINKS IT'S STILL IN THE MURKY DEPTHS OF THE DEEP LABION SWAMPS. DON'T CONFUSE IT BY APPROACHING IT.
  • IT WILL HAPPILY CRUSH YOU RATHER THAN BE FORCED TO QUESTION ITS REALITY.
  • IT WILL ALSO EAT YOU IF GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY.
  • LABION ROOT MONSTER
  • A DIRECT DESCENDANT OF THE VEINOUS BUGGERFLY, THE LABION ROOT MONSTER IS A CARNIVOROUS PLANT WITH ROOTS BOTH ABOVE AND BELOWGROUND.
  • THE UNDERGROUND ROOTS ABSORB WATER AND NUTRIENTS NORMALLY, BUT THE SOIL OF LABION IS NITROGEN-POOR, SO THE ABOVEGROUND ROOTS COLLECT NITROGEN BY CAPTURING AND DIGESTING SMALL STUPID ANIMALS OR LARGER, STUPIDER ONES.
  • WHEN DISTURBED, THE ROOTS WRAP AROUND THE LUCKLESS CREATURE AND CONVEY IT TO THE CENTRAL SAC, WHEREIN LIE THE DIGESTIVE JUICES AND SPIKELIKE CILIA THAT REDUCE THE CREATURE TO A PULPLIKE CONSISTENCY.
  • AT THIS POINT, THE ROOT MONSTER EXUDES NITROGEN LIKE A KLOROX II BEANBLATTER AT THE GILROY IX GARLIC FESTIVAL.
  • THE LABION ROOT MONSTER IS BEST OBSERVED AT A DISTANCE, OR IN THE HIGHLY-ACCLAIMED VIDCART SERIES "THE TRIALS OF GROTESQUE ALIEN ANIMAL BEHAVIOR" BY HIGHLY-ACCLAIMED NATURALIST DR. DAVID ATEANDBURROWED.
  • BRIDGE
  • BRIG
  • HOLOCABANA
  • PLEASE SELECT YOUR INTRASHIP
  • DESTINATION:
  • CHOICE:
  • ROGER'S QUARTERS
  • 8-REAR
  • SHUTTLE BAY ENTRANCE
  • SICKBAY
  • TRANSPORTER
  • YOU ARE AT THAT LOCATION NOW.
  • CANCEL
  • INVALID ENTRY
  • CONFIRM TRANSPORT
  • A-E
  • F-M
  • N-R
  • S-Z
            • PLEASE ENTER ******
  • INTRASHIP TRANSPORT
  • COMMUNICATIONS
  • DATABASE
  • OR
  • CYBERFUNCTIONS
  • KNOWN RACES N-R
  • NOSENUGGET NOMADS
  • THESE LUMPEN CREATURES TODDLE AROUND THE UNIVERSE IN WOOD-PANELLED STATION WAGONS. WITH THEIR SAC-LIKE CHILDREN IN TOW, THEY GO ON SIGHTSEEING TOURS THAT LAST UPWARDS OF 30 THOUSAND YEARS.
  • DURING THESE TOURS, THEY TAKE LITERALLY MILLIONS OF SLIDES, MOST OF WHICH SHOW THEM WAVING "HI" ON EVERY DINKY LITTLE PLANET, ASTEROID AND INTERGALACTIC TOURIST TRAP IN THE CRAB NEBULA.
  • DURING THEIR HIBERNATION PHASE, WHICH LASTS ABOUT FOUR THOUSAND YEARS, THEY HAVE THEIR FILM DEVELOPED. WHEN THEY WAKEN, THEY WATCH THEIR SLIDES.
  • ENTIRE CIVILIZATIONS HAVE RISEN AND FALLEN DURING ONE OF THE NOSENUGGET SLIDE SHOWS.
  • NOSENUGGETS PRIDE THEMSELVES ON THEIR GUSTATORIAL FLEXIBILITY. THEY EAT WHATEVER FOODS ARE NATIVE TO THE LOCATION THEY'RE VISITING.
  • ON PLANETS WHERE THE NATIVES SUBSIST MAINLY ON NOSENUGGETS, THIS PRESENTS THE NOSENUGGETS WITH A DIFFICULT SITUATION IN WHICH THEY OFTEN END UP HAVING TO EAT THEMSELVES.
  • ORATS
  • THESE AGGRESSIVE CARNIVORES HAVE BEEN THE BANE OF VISITORS TO THE PLANET KERONA FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. HULKING AND HEAVILY MUSCLED, ORATS WALK ON TWO POWERFUL HIND LEGS.
  • THEY ENJOY CRUSHING OTHER LIFEFORMS WITH THEIR MASSIVE FOREARMS. THEY ALSO ENJOY BASKETBALL, AND OFTEN COMBINE THE TWO BY PLAYING A QUICK GAME OF ONE-ON-ONE WITH A RECENT CATCH.
  • INTERESTINGLY (OR NOT), THE FLESH OF THE ORAT IS HIGHLY PRIZED FOR ITS FLAVOR AND BUTTERY TEXTURE. IT'S FOUND AS A COMMON INGREDIENT IN THE CUISINES OF SEVERAL DIFFERENT PLANETS.
  • AS A RESULT, THERE IS A BURGEONING BLACK MARKET IN ORAT-POACHING. FOR THAT REASON, THE ORAT IS CONSIDERED AN ENDANGERED SPECIES, BUT NOBODY SEEMS TO MIND EXCEPT FOR A FEW CHEFS.
  • PESTULON MONOCHROME BOYS
  • YOU WON'T FIND THE MONOCHROME BOYS IN THEIR NATIVE HABITAT. THESE FOUL-MOUTHED, BELLIGERENT BEASTS SPEND MOST OF THE TIME ZIPPING AROUND ON HARDLY-DRAMAMINES, BULLYING WEAKER LIFEFORMS AND TINKERING WITH THEIR HOGS.
  • (NOT THEIR MOTORCYCLES, BUT THEIR REAL HOGS. DON'T ASK, YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW.)
  • THE MONOCHROME BOYS ARE SO NAMED BECAUSE OF THEIR UNUSUAL WHITE AND GRAY PIGMENTATION. THE BLOTCHY BLEMISHES ARE PARTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR SOUR DEMEANOR. DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT.
  • SHOULD THEY FORCE A CONFRONTATION, DO NOT CALL THEM "MONOCHROME" OR "BOYS." IT'S ALL RIGHT FOR THEM TO CALL EACH OTHER "MONOCHROME," BUT IT'S NOT OKAY FOR ANYONE ELSE.
  • THE DIET OF MONOCHROME BOYS CONSISTS MAINLY OF ANY OTHER LIFE FORM THAT HAS A LIGHT, CRUNCHY EXOSKELETON.
  • PHLEEBHUT PODSNATCHERS
  • THE ONLY OTHER LIFEFORM INDIGENOUS TO PHLEEBHUT OTHER THAN THE PHLEEBHUTINSKIS, PODSNATCHERS HANG FROM THE PURPLISH ROCK FORMATIONS THAT DOT THE LANDSCAPE.
  • THEY ATTACH THEMSELVES BY MEANS OF A STRONG, SOLID MUSCLE, AND THEIR TOUGH, CHITINOUS OUTER SHELL PROTECTS THEM FROM POTENTIAL PREDATORS (OF WHICH THEY HAVE PRECISELY NONE).
  • AT BIRTH, THE PODSNATCHER CANNOT FOCUS ON ITS PREY. FORTUNATELY, IT HAS GLANDS LOCATED NEAR ITS TEAR DUCTS THAT SECRETE A LIQUID GLASS THAT HARDENS AND FORMS A LENS OVER THE EYE, USUALLY IN ABOUT AN HOUR.
  • (IMAGINE THAT! LENSES IN ABOUT AN HOUR!)
  • THE PODSNATCHER THEN LOOKS DOWN FROM ITS UPSIDE-DOWN PERCH AND UNROLLS A STICKY EXTENSIBLE TONGUE THAT CAN PICK UP AN ENEMY 250 TIMES ITS OWN WEIGHT, SNAG A FLY MOVING OVER 35 KPH ...
  • ... OR PERFORM SEVERAL DUBIOUS TRICKS DESIGNED TO GET IT ONTO "QUADRANT TWELVE'S FUNNIEST HOME VIDEOS."
  • THEIR FAVORITE FOOD IS PHLEEBHUTINSKIS, BUT SINCE THERE ARE NO PHLEEBHUTINSKIS LEFT ON THE PLANET, THEY MOSTLY EAT SAND.
  • PHLEEBHUTINSKIS
  • ON PHLEEBHUT, THE LAWS OF NATURAL SELECTION ARE CLEARLY ILLUSTRATED, PARTICULARLY IN HOW THEY CAN SOMETIMES GO HORRIBLY AWRY AND PRODUCE A POORLY-ADAPTED RACE TOTALLY INCAPABLE OF SURVIVING ITS NATIVE HABITAT.
  • THE CREATURES NATIVE TO PHLEEBHUT ARE COLLECTIVELY CALLED "PHLEEBHUTINSKIS" OR "BLATZ" FOR SHORT. THEY HAVE THREE FINGERS WHICH END IN SUCTION CUPS, IDEAL FOR GRASPING SMALL PREY OR SOUVENIRS.
  • THEY HAVE OVERSIZED PUPILS FOR SEEING IN DIM LIGHT, LARGE YELLOW INCISORS FOR CUTTING THROUGH FOOD, AND LONG NARROW NOSTRILS TO PROTECT AGAINST INHALING MOST FOREIGN OBJECTS (EXCEPT FOR THEIR FINGERS).
  • UNFORTUNATELY, THE PLANET OF PHLEEBHUT, A GREENISH DUSTBALL, HAS NO SMALL PREY TO GRASP, IS BRIGHTLY LIT THROUGHOUT THE DAY/NIGHT CYCLE, FEATURES DEPOSITS OF NATURALLY-OCCURRING PULPY FOOD WHICH MUST ...
  • ... BE GUMMED EXTENSIVELY BEFORE BEING SWALLOWED (REPLICATOR #6588644), AND HAS ROCK FORMATIONS WHICH CAST OFF LONG, NARROW SLIVERS OF MICA WHICH ARE EASILY INHALED BY THE BLATZ.
  • THESE MICA SLIVERS CAN CAUSE EXTENSIVE LACERATIONS OF THE SINUS CAVITIES. THUS ANY BLATZ WHO IS FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO SURVIVE THE ATMOSPHERE TYPICALLY LOSES HIS TEETH, GOES BLIND, OR STARVES QUICKLY.
  • IN FACT, THERE IS ONLY ONE KNOWN CURRENTLY-SURVIVING BLATZ (KNOWN AS "FESTER") WHO HAS MOVED OFF OF PHLEEBHUT TO SEEK A MORE HOSPITABLE ENVIRONMENT.
  • PINKUNZ
  • THE PINKUNZ ARE A RACE OF MANY CONTRASTS. THEY'RE SO CUTE, YOU JUST WANT TO EAT THEM UP. BUT YOU CAN'T BECAUSE THEY'RE VERY TOUGH AND YOU CAN CHEW THEM FOR HOURS WITHOUT MAKING ANY HEADWAY.
  • WHICH IS ALL RIGHT, BECAUSE THEY TASTE HORRIBLE.
  • THEY LIVE ON LABION AND CREATE ELABORATE WARRENS OR "DENS". THEY ALSO SWIM THROUGH THE LABION SWAMPS WITH EASE, SINCE THEY USE CERTAIN BERRIES TO REPEL THE SWAMP SLURPIES THAT INHABIT THE MARSHES AND BAYOUS.
  • HOWEVER, THE BERRIES ARE INEFFECTIVE AGAINST THE MONSTROUS KILLER CAVE BEAVERS, WHO INVADE THE DENS AND FEAST ON THE PINKUNZ WITHIN.
  • THE CAVE BEAVERS ARE NOT INTELLIGENT ENOUGH TO FIGURE OUT HOW TOUGH AND CHEWY THE PINKUNZ ARE, AND OFTEN SAMPLE EVERY PINKUNZ IN THE DEN BEFORE REALIZING THAT NONE OF THEM ARE TENDER ENOUGH TO EAT.
  • PINKUNZ ARE HERBIVOROUS, SO THEY ONLY EAT CREATURES NAMED "HERB." THEY WILL ALSO EAT THE YOUNG SHOOTS OF THE WANDERING ATHEIST (REPLICATOR #4366314).
  • That's my ComPost.
  • CURRENT MEDICAL ISSUES
  • 1. STARCON H/W SUBDIRECTIVE W-411-923 RECOMMENDS THAT HUMANOID LIFEFORMS INGEST NO MORE THAN 10% OF CALORIES FROM FAT. THEREFORE, KUNG PAO CHICKEN HAS BEEN DEPROGRAMMED FROM THE REPLICATOR MENU LIST.
  • 2. STARCON WOULD LIKE TO CONGRATULATE DR. BEVERAGE CRUSHER ON HER SELF-ADMINISTERED BALLOON ANGIOPLASTY. THIS PROCEDURE USES A TINY INFLATABLE BALLOON TO COMPRESS A BLOCKAGE AGAINST THE SIDES OF A VESSEL.
  • 3. SELF-ADMINISTERED CONGRATS ARE IN ORDER TO SCOTT MURPHY FOR FINALLY FIGURING OUT HOW TO FIRMLY WEDGE HIS HEAD BETWEEN HIS OWN CHEEKS.
  • PERIODIC TABLE
  • FOR MORE INFORMATION ON THIS, PLEASE SEE VOLUME 2, ISSUE 1 OF "SANITATION HOT SPOTS."
  • FOOD REPLICATOR
  • FOOD REPLICATORS ARE AVAILABLE IN MANY SHIP'S LOCATIONS. TO USE, ENTER THE NUMBER OF THE DESIRED FOODSTUFF. MENUS ARE AVAILABLE IN THE SEAT POCKET IN FRONT OF YOU.
  • IF THERE IS NO SEAT POCKET IN FRONT OF YOU, TRY LOOKING BEHIND YOU.
  • IF THERE IS NO SEAT POCKET BEHIND YOU, JUST HAIL THE WAITER AND REQUEST ONE.
  • IF THERE IS NO WAITER IN SIGHT, PLEASE WAIT AND ONE WILL BE WITH YOU SHORTLY.
  • HOLOJOINTS
  • THE HOLOJOINT CAN RECREATE ANY ENVIRONMENT FOR WHICH A PROGRAM EXISTS. TO START A PROGRAM, ENTER THE PROGRAM NUMBER AND PRESS ENTER.
  • WARNING: ALL MATERIALS IN THE HOLOJOINT ARE MADE FROM VIRTU-PLAST, A VIRTUAL MATERIAL THAT CANNOT EXIST OUTSIDE OF THE HOLOJOINT ENVIRONMENT.
  • ATTEMPTING TO REMOVE ANY VIRTU-PLAST ITEMS FROM THE HOLOJOINT ENVIRONMENT WILL RESULT IN THEIR IMMEDIATE DISINTEGRATION.
  • SO DON'T THINK YOU'RE GOING TO GO IN THERE AND CONJURE UP SOMETHING USEFUL AND THEN LEAVE AND EXPECT IT TO STILL BE IN YOUR INVENTORY.
  • KNOWN RACES S-Z
  • SARIENS
  • THE SARIENS ARE A HUMANOID RACE. TREACHEROUS, EVIL, BUT ALWAYS EAGER TO PLEASE, THE SARIENS MAKE WONDERFUL HOSTS, ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE THEIR ENEMY (AND WHO ISN'T?).
  • THEY PRIDE THEMSELVES ON THEIR TECHNIQUES OF TORTURE, MUTILATION, DISFIGUREMENT, NAPKIN-FOLDING, AND SELECTING THE RIGHT WINE TO GO WITH WHICHEVER ENEMY THEY'RE EATING.
  • THEY'RE ALSO EASILY OFFENDED SHOULD YOU INSINUATE THAT THEY'RE DOING LESS THAN THEIR BEST TO GRIND YOU INTO A FINE RED PASTE.
  • SARIENS ARE OMNIVORES, PREFERRING TO EAT OLD BACK ISSUES OF "OMNI."
  • SPACE MONKEYS
  • BILLIONS OF YEARS AGO, THE PLANET SORENIA WAS DEVASTATED BY A COLLISION WITH AN ASTEROID. ALL WATER EVAPORATED FROM THE ECOSYSTEM. EVERY DAY THE INHABITANTS SURVIVED WAS A VICTORY.
  • EVENTUALLY, ALL LIFE PERISHED. OR SO IT WAS BELIEVED. MANY OF THE LIFEFORMS ADAPTED BY ENCAPSULATING THEMSELVES IN CYST-LIKE EGGS. WHEN THESE EGGS ARE IMMERSED IN WATER, THEY HATCH.
  • ONE SUCH LIFEFORM WAS KNOWN AS THE BRINE MONKEY, A TINY WATER-BREATHING SIMIAN. CERENO PRODUCTS MINED THE PLANET FOR ITS HUGE DEPOSITS OF BRINE MONKEY EGGS.
  • (WHILE THEY WERE AT IT, THEY ALSO MINED ENCYSTED BRINE APES, BRINE MARSUPIALS, AND BRINE AARDVARKS.) CERENO HAS SINCE MARKETED THE MONKEY EGGS UNDER THE TRADEMARKED NAME "SPACE MONKEYS" IN COMIC BOOKS.
  • SPACE MONKEYS PREFER SPACE FOOD STICKS (REPLICATOR #6834468) OR TANGY, PIQUANT BRINE BANANAS (REPLICATOR #6588126).
  • SPINY ALIEN THANGS
  • SPINY ALIEN THANGS ARE A MARVEL OF ADAPTIVE ABILITY. WITH EXOSKELETONS FAR TOO CUMBERSOME TO PERMIT TRADITIONAL REPRODUCTIVE TECHNIQUES, SPINY ALIEN THANGS HAVE LEARNED TO PROPAGATE BY KISSING.
  • THIS IS NOT A LITTLE PLATONIC KISS: IT CONTAINS A FERTILIZED EGG WHICH HEADS STRAIGHT FOR THE VICTIM'S STOMACH. HERE IT ABSORBS NUTRIENTS FOR DAYS OR WEEKS, LIKE A PARASITE, ONLY ... WELL, JUST LIKE A PARASITE.
  • WHEN IT SENSES THE MOST DRAMATIC MOMENT POSSIBLE, IT BURSTS FORTH FROM THE STOMACH IN A SPECTACULAR DISPLAY OF SPECIAL EFFECTS. THIS EXPLOSION NATURALLY KILLS THE HOST.
  • BUT ISN'T IT WORTH IT FOR ALL THE COOL GORE, ESPECIALLY IF THE HOST WAS MERELY AN EXTRA AND NOT A HIGHLY-PAID GUEST STAR?
  • VULGARS
  • THE VULGARS ARE A PEACEFUL RACE OF BRILLIANT AND LOGICAL THINKERS WHOSE ONLY REAL JOY IN LIFE IS TO STRIDE AROUND THE GALAXY WITH SUPERIOR ATTITUDES AND CORRECT OTHER PEOPLE'S GRAMMAR AND SPELLING.
  • THEY ALSO ENJOY DESIGNING OUTER SPACE STRATEGY SIMULATION GAMES. THIS MAKES THEM NEARLY AS INSUFFERABLE AS UNIVERSITY ACADEMICIANS, BUT NOT AS WELL-PAID.
  • CONSIDERING THEIR PLACID AND STUDIOUS LIFESTYLE, IT'S INTERESTING TO NOTE THAT THE VULGARS HAVE DEVELOPED AN EXTREMELY PRACTICAL MARTIAL ARTS TECHNIQUE CALLED "THE VULGAR NERVE PINCH."
  • THIS IS A TACTILE/AURAL MANEUVER IN WHICH THE PINCHER PINCHES THE BUNDLE OF NERVE FIBERS AT THE BASE OF THE NECK WHILE WHISPERING DIALOGUE FROM EITHER "TANGO & CASH" OR "HUDSON HAWK."
  • THIS PARTICULAR COMBINATION OF STIMULI RESULTS IN A SEARING FLASH OF PAIN AND THEN UNCONSCIOUSNESS WHICH CAN LAST FOR SEVERAL HOURS. THE TECHNIQUE IS DEMONSTRATED IN HOLOJOINT PROGRAM #5551212.
  • You get fingerprints all over it.
  • This is your standard ComPost panel, where you can get information, travel to other ship locations, or just pretend to be doing some work.

470.msgEdit

  • Click where you want to put the Blue Cable.
  • Click where you want to put the Red Cable.
  • Time Passes ...
  • More time passes ...
  • Even more time passes ...
  • Ooops! It looks like you should have waited just a bit longer before hooking these up. Everyone knows that hooking them up too soon always causes a major phlange phase shift overload.
  • These are the shuttle's jumper cables. That sure doesn't make you feel real secure about this spacecraft if those are standard equipment.
  • That's the hatch back into the shuttle.
  • Okay, Manuel, we're all hooked up. Give it a try.
  • That's just another thing I don't understand.
  • What's with this fish deal? Now one's stuck in the engine intake.
  • It opens from the inside.
  • That's the hood. Beneath it is the shuttle's engine.
  • The unfilled hollow of space is now just a fabric's thickness away. You forgot just how much more spectacular the view is from outside. You won't find anything like this in any oxygen-filled environment -- except maybe for that small vacuous chamber barely holding your ears apart.
  • That, of course, is your freshly stolen shuttle from the DeepShip 86.
  • With the high-tech jumpstart having been performed, the shuttle is ready to bail.
  • It's a "HELP" sign.
  • Sorry, you can't break loose. You'll have to stick to moving to locations on the shuttle itself.
  • Might as well get everything while it's open. You never know what's going to go wrong next.
  • It's the shuttle's trunk.
  • Well, let's get a move on. I have a wax job in an hour and I still have a half light year to make up. Juanobbee is just going to murder me if I'm late again.
  • Is there anybody out there?
  • Hello, Sweetheart. You look like you could use a little assistance. Is there anything I can do?
  • Well, yes, there is. Thanks for stopping.
  • You just name it, I guess.
  • It seems I've stalled my engines. Could you give me a jump? I have cables.
  • I'd jump you in a heartbeat, Dollface. I guess you must'a got caught up in that anti-anomaly. They can be a real pain in the ... anyway, let's get it done.
  • Well, here's your end of the cables.
  • I'll let you know when I'm all hooked up.
  • Bye-bye, Sugar Bunny.
  • I've gotta be running along.
  • Hey, thanks for stopping to help me.
  • See ya'.
  • CONTACT!
  • Hallo! I really have to get going. Can we turn it up a notch?
  • No time for that. Besides, you've got enough to deal with in the relationship zone as it is.
  • I sure do appreciate you stopping and helping out.

480.msgEdit

  • Manuel tosses you a transport signaller.
  • You can only use this from the place I beam you to.
  • It would be rather hard to do that while wearing the EVA suit.
  • You've got way too much to do to spend time messing with THAT now.
  • You neatly replace the EVA suit in its proper place.
  • Step over to the transport pad and I will beam you down to the surface of Polysorbate.
  • Nope, nothing moveable here.
  • This is the shuttle's Personal Effects Stowage Compartment.
  • (This civilization never developed the inane habit of calling it a "glove compartment.")
  • I feel a little silly talking to an inanimate object.
  • Imagine how your crewmates must feel whenever they talk to you.
  • This is the lid to the Personal Effects Stowage Compartment.
  • It looks a little on the gross side. You hate to touch it.
  • Open, sesame.
  • How very original.
  • Close, sesame!
  • You're still trying that one?
  • You won't need any Monolith© Burger wrappers or empty cups. The shipwide recycling program was disposed of.
  • The rest of the junk in the Stowage Compartment is effluvium (oooh, a ten-buckazoid word!) from frequent trips to Monolith© Burger, a common change-of-pace from the usual replicator fare.
  • Don't be a garbage mouth.
  • It's a brain!
  • It's empty at the moment. No need to open it now.
  • You don't need to do that while on Delta Burksilon.
  • I don't need this suit right now.
  • The shuttle closet contains an EVA suit and helmet, for those infrequent repairs.
  • There's nobody in the closet to talk to, now that StarCon has adopted the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy.
  • You don't want that coffee, there's something green and fuzzy floating in it.
  • (Unless, of course, that fuzzy green thing is what you were really after in the first place!)
  • Somebody's left a cup of mocha java in the pilot's cupholder.
  • Which reminds you: isn't it about time you went to Mocha XII and stocked up on beans?
  • The fuzzy green mold growing in the cup of mocha java is a lousy conversationalist.
  • This is the shuttle cockpit. You sit here. You will be smart. You will make it go. You will make things work.
  • Yo! Anything hiding under the dashboard?
  • This compartment is sealed in order to shield the tachyon emitters from E-band radiation. C'mon, every second-year cadet knows that!
  • (Of course, you never made it beyond first-year.)
  • This upper compartment contains the subspace transmission relays and tachyon emitters.
  • Hello in there. Hello?
  • This compartment contains the Divalium crystal subprocessor and main flux coupling.
  • Yeah, it's right there where I left it.
  • Cool!
  • Don't screw with the pattern buffer array. If you get messed up during teleportation, it can unscramble you.
  • This compartment contains the manual override array and the pattern buffer subroutines.
  • Now what?
  • Come on! It's a manual override array and pattern buffer subroutine, not a hint system.
  • I guess the Divalium crystal won't work in this form. Fortunately, I have vast experience in the re-forming of broken items.
  • It's no wonder. You've had to repair a lot of stuff you've broken in your time. The word "clod" comes to mind.
  • You have put glue on the crystal but not in the compartment.
  • It feels nice.
  • You already fixed the crystal. I don't think it would work any better if you poured more glue on it.
  • There's no need to attempt gluing it again.
  • All appears well in the crystal compartment.
  • sdfsdf
  • sdfsdfgsf
  • Wow. The crystal seems to have broken. I swear it wasn't me!
  • Now we're in deep.
  • Hey, I've gotten us this far, haven't I?
  • Yes, and what a wonderful place it is.
  • (TO HIMSELF) How did I get hooked up in this deal? My agent's going to be hearing from me big time!
  • The compartment crystal has been glued already.
  • You're not that thirsty.
  • It's an old cup of MC Cola, "The Cola that Gets You Hammered."
  • Desperate for intelligent conversation?
  • Imagine how the rest of the crew feels when they're around you!
  • Through the shuttle's viewscreen is the visual splendor of Delta Burksilon V.
  • I don't want to go out there again.
  • It's pretty sticky out there, maybe you should wear your EVA Suit.
  • That's not a request, Roger. If you want out, put on the damn suit.
  • You don't have to wear your helmet out there.
  • This is the shuttle hatch. It leads back out into the Shuttlebay.
  • This is the shuttle hatch.
  • I command you to open!
  • The door ignores you. Don't take it personally, though. It ignores everyone.
  • It's the engine panel.
  • This is an EVA helmet.
  • No, that's just not a good idea now.
  • This is an EVA suit.
  • Such a petty act of vandalism would be dealt with most harshly.
  • And you've already been caned once this week for spray painting someone's shuttle.
  • This exit sign tells you where to get off.
  • But who doesn't?
  • Why are you talking to that? By now you should realize that no one, and nothing, listens to you anyway.
  • These passenger seats are for picking up colonists, ambassadors, visiting dignitaries, and people who are too neurotic to handle transporters.
  • Can you believe that, in this day and age, there are people who object to being dematerialized, broadcast to some remote location, and then rematerialized?
  • It's not as if we were asking them to take off from LaGuardia!
  • This is the shuttle's Personal Effects Stowage Compartment.
  • Any personal effects in there?
  • Apparently none that are any good at speechifyin'.
  • You hold the glue-coated segment to the broken Divalium crystal for ten seconds to set the glue.
  • Through the viewscreen you can see the unlatched hood of the shuttle.
  • Yes, it looks like the light bulbs DO need replacing, but this is not the proper time to bother with such minutiae.
  • The lights here are half-spectrum, in order to give everyone the same pale blue "mole person" look.
  • Why am I talking to a light bulb? C'mon, illuminate me.
  • Excuse me. I have a statement to make. The Space Quest 6 team would like to apologize for the previous, and also any future, bad puns the writer may have decided to indulge in. We have threatened his life and expect no further problems. Thank you for your patience.
  • Interesting. It's a recall notice.
  • It's empty.
  • On the back of the left seat is a pouch containing a card.
  • Being of holographic origin, Manuel is not impressed with your efforts to make physical contact with him. It is very unfulfilling.
  • That's Manuel Auxveride, your holographic navigator.
  • Your whimper is my command, Sir.
  • They're too far above you to reach.
  • Various conduits and pipes run through the shuttle, housing wire, delivering engine coolant, and piping in nearly-fresh air.
  • No, you can't play "telephone" by yelling into the pipes.
  • Despite the tremendously high heat of whatever's in this pipe, it's cold to the touch, thanks to a hundred microthin layers of expanded octostyrene polymer.
  • If you recall correctly, this thickly-shielded conduit routes the plasma runoff into the reintegration chamber.
  • It's either that or the hot water.
  • Didn't your mother ever teach you not to lick cold pipes?
  • It's the recall notice.
  • It's a recall notice.
  • The shuttle feels flimsy.
  • The shuttle always looks trashed like this when it gets back from one of those intergalactic tailgate parties.
  • It's some sort of recall notice from the manufacturers of the DS86 series of shuttles. Apparently, some electrical components can malfunction, leaving the pilot and passengers stranded.
  • These are the seats for the pilot and navigator, built of a semi-translucent gelfoam that molds itself to the shape of whoever's sitting in it.
  • The semi-transparency also makes it easier to spot loose change and crumbs that have fallen between the cushions.
  • The gel is flavorless. It's like there was a party in your mouth, but nobody showed up.
  • The Shuttlebay doesn't look so spacious from in here. In fact, it looks kind of fuzzy.
  • The stars look pretty this time of night.
  • Oh, geez, is that a stomach?!
  • The emergency oxygen tank is not removable, nor can you activate it by hand. It's patched directly into the Shuttle Door Sound Effects Matrix.
  • This tank of emergency oxygen serves an incredibly important purpose:
  • It ensures that the shuttle's hatch makes a neat "hissing" sound when it opens and closes.
  • Conversing with inanimate objects is a tankless job.
  • Gee, you finally decide to do some janitoring. Great timing.
  • Who in the world left all this trash in here? Isn't somebody supposed to clean up the shuttle when it comes back from a mission?
  • Oh, wait, that's me.
  • On second thought, it doesn't look so bad after all.
  • There's nothing in the Monolith burger wrappers that looks big enough to bother eating.
  • Depositing oils from your hand on the window is not as entertaining as it was when you were a child.
  • It's a pane of quintuple-thick hyperglazed safety glass. If it breaks, it instantly solidifies on a molecular level and reglazes itself.
  • Beats washing them.
  • Hey, I can see myself!
  • Oh, joy.
  • You know as much about fixing diagnostic relays as you do about performing a tetryon particle sweep.
  • Loser!
  • Someone must have been fixing the diagnostic relays.
  • Licking bare wires is a cheap thrill that you gave up when you were six.

490.msgEdit

  • Well, that was pretty darn gross! Now, where am I? I guess I'm supposed to be on Stellar's stomach based on what Doctor Beleaux said.
  • Well, I guess this isn't going to help me now.
  • What may I do for you, Sir?
  • Beam me down to Polysorbate, please.
  • Oh, never mind.
  • You're all suited up and ready to go.
  • Step over to the transport pad and I will beam you down to the surface of Polysorbate.
  • Don't you recognize you? It's you, only bigger.
  • Even studly old you can't budge them. (What a surprise!)
  • Structural braces strengthen the viewscreen during those times when a planet's atmosphere must be penetrated and, thus, pressure builds on the outside of the ship.
  • Yipes! So this is the old grey matter, huh? What a mess.
  • MERCURY
  • SODIUM
  • NITROGEN
  • NEPTUNIUM
  • COBALT
  • BARIUM
  • PRASEODYNIUM
  • IRON
  • LANTHANUM
  • STRONTIUM
  • CHLORINE
  • TIN
  • SULFUR
  • NITROGEN
  • COBALT
  • PHOSPHORUS
  • NEODYNIUM
  • PLATINUM
  • RHODIUM
  • TANTALUM
  • OXYGEN
  • GOLD
  • MANGANESE
  • OSMIUM
  • POTASSIUM
  • COPPER
  • FLUORINE
  • KRYPTON
  • HELIUM
  • HYDROGEN
  • CERIUM
  • TUNGSTEN
  • SILVER
  • LEAD
  • PLUTONIUM
  • SILICON
  • NEON
  • ZEON
  • ARGON
  • RADON
  • SULFUR
  • IODINE
  • TELLURIUM
  • YTTRIUM
  • INDIUM
  • ZINC
  • LITHIUM
  • URANIUM
  • LASAGNE
  • SNOWY
  • NAPKIN
  • FENCES
  • It's the skyline of Delta Burksilon V.
  • It's the most indespensible item in the universe: duct tape.
  • RETINAL SCAN RESULTS:


UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL

INITIATING LAUNCH SHUTDOWN

  • You press it but nothing happens. Too bad this option wasn't installed.
  • Cool! This button is for the games option package available on the DS86 series. Too bad StarCon was way too cheap to spring for it.
  • GAMES MENU:


NOT INSTALLED

  • It appears to be the shuttle's version of a glove box.
  • It's a tube of Elmo's Gluzall.
  • It reminds you of one of those hand pumps you use when the astrohead plugs up.
  • Even though you're in space, you shouldn't pop the trunk or hood while traveling.
  • The hood is already open.
  • It appears to be a release handle for the hood of the Shuttle.
  • INTERMIX CONFIRMATION DISPLAY:


THE INTERMIX PARAMETERS CANNOT BE CHANGED ONCE THE SHUTTLE ENGINES ARE IN OPERATION.

  • It's the Intermix Confirmation Display button.
  • This is the Intermix Confirmation Display. Once the proper four elements have been selected, along with the proper confirmation code, the shuttle is ready to fly.
  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


INTERMIX NOT CORRECTLY SET

MAKE NECESSARY ADJUSTMENTS BEFORE INITIATING LAUNCH SEQUENCE.

  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


INTERMIX CONFIRMED

STAND BY FOR RETINAL SCAN

  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


LAUNCH INITIATION FAILED.

  • Perhaps I'd get farther if I kept the Subroutine Disc in its slot.
  • I guess I won't get far without fuel.
  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


INITIATING WARP SEQUENCE.

  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


LOCATION LOCKED

HEADING TO THE BRAIN

  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


LOCATION LOCKED

HEADING TO THE STOMACH

  • This looks like the launch initiation button. At least, that's what it says it is.
  • That's the pilot's seat. You silently hope that the seats are only built that well for comfort, and not out of necessity.
  • Can't you read? It's the Subroutine Program disc slot!
  • Jeeesh! So it's little small. (TO HIMSELF) I'm so tired of hearing that.
  • Those are the words which inform you that the slot below accepts Subroutine Program discs.
  • This is the pilot's wheel. It's from here that you will next be risking your life.
  • You leave a greasy little smudge on the window.
  • This is the main cockpit display. Various subsystems of the shuttle are monitored and controlled from here.
  • The PTS is on-line and working. We can now launch to Polysorbate.
  • I am here to serve you, Sir.
  • Your whimper is my command, Sir.
  • What may I do for you, Sir?
  • ... then the Galacticon said, "If I did have hover capabilities, I wouldn't need the Cleftsnorter!" Ah, excuse me, Sir. How may I enhance your efforts?
  • My sole purpose is to help you, Sir.
  • Within reason, that is.
  • It would appear that the picture and negative are in the wrong order.
  • Being of holographic origin, Manuel is not impressed with your efforts to make physical contact with him. It is very unfulfilling.
  • That's Manuel Auxveride, your holographic navigator.
  • Sir, I believe I may be able to tap myself into the PTS and perform a limited set of functions.
  • PTS?
  • Yes, Sir, PTS -- the Photo Triangulation System. It was installed as a crude backup navigational device to the modern navigational computer system. It's what you see before you mounted in the middle viewscreen.
  • Sir, I am unable to access the navigational computer. I am guessing that it may have overloaded just as the Divalium crystal somehow went off-line. Once repairs have been made and the shuttle engines have been re-fired, I believe I can follow the DeepShip's ion trail back to Delta Burksilon V.
  • That would be quite cool, Manuel. You sure about that?
  • Once the Divalium crystal has been repaired, our electrical system re-established, and the engines fired, I am 97.2 percent certain.
  • Why only 97.2 percent?
  • I judged 97.2 to sound more hip to our audience than would 100. (SLIGHTLY ANNOYED) You would have to mention it.
  • Sorry.
  • Don't apologize to me. It's the players you ruined it for.
  • Good work, Sir. I believe I can now follow the ion trail of DeepShip 86 back to Delta Burksilon V.
  • Sir, I believe the Divalium crystal is still off-line.
  • Sir, there still seems to a potential engine blockage, and the Divalium crystal is off-line.
  • Sir, we are unable to proceed with the Divalium crystal off-line, a lack of power to restart the engines, and with a potential engine blockage.
  • Sir, the Divalium crystal seems to be in proper configuration, but I'm afraid we'll need a power boost to restart the engines. I'm sensing that we may also have some sort of engine inlet blockage as well.
  • Sir, there seems to be a problem with one of the engine intakes.
  • Oh great! What's next!
  • Sir, the Divalium crystal is still off-line, and we'll need a power boost as well once that's repaired.
  • Sir, all seems to be ready, but I'm afraid we'll need a jump to restart the engines.
  • One of the Intermix tanks seems to have been breached.
  • Cool! This button is for the Movies option package available on the DS86 series of shuttles. Too bad StarCon was way too cheap to spring for it.
  • MOVIE MENU:


NOT INSTALLED

  • These are navigational system readouts.
  • NAVIGATION COMPUTER:


OFF-LINE

SYSTEM INTEGRITY FAILURE

  • You take a chance and give the manual override button a push. Suddenly, something begins to happen in the right seat.
  • Oh, that's right, Manuel is off-line in here. He can't help me now.
  • Nothing happens. That button must not work at this time.
  • The manual override button is no longer functional.
  • This button activates the manual override state. It is effective only while in flight.
  • RETINAL SCAN RESULTS:


AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL

LAUNCH SEQUENCE INITIATED

  • Swell! There's not enough power to restart the engines!
  • It says "POWER". Could it be that this button has something to do with the power system of the shuttle? Nah, that sounds way too obvious.
  • The power is not currently on.
  • You can't snap a picture if the PTS is off-line.
  • There are no more pictures available for snapping.
  • You must remove the current photo before you attempt another shot.
  • Obviously this button controls the Photo Triangulation System which is the heart of the navigational selection system on the DS86 series of shuttles.
  • This is the Photo Triangulation System unit. It houses the optics as well as the print recorder and ejector.
  • This button activates the PTS system.
  • You might want to fire up the sucker before you try that.
  • This looks to be just a backlit screen of some sort.
  • PHOTO TRIANGULATION SYSTEM:


ON-LINE


SYSTEM MARGINAL


2.0 PHOTOGRAPHS REMAINING

  • PHOTO TRIANGULATION SYSTEM:


ON-LINE


SYSTEM MARGINAL


1.0 PHOTOGRAPHS REMAINING

  • PHOTO TRIANGULATION SYSTEM:


ON-LINE


SYSTEM MARGINAL


0.0 PHOTOGRAPHS REMAINING

  • PHOTO TRIANGULATION SYSTEM:


OFF-LINE

  • Josh Mandel


1990 - 1994

  • Don't. You'll distort the optics, making it inoperable.
  • That's the retinal scanning unit. Upon launch initiation, the operator is asked to place his or her eye against it to be checked for proper authorization for operation.
  • Let's see if this sucker works.
  • That won't be of any help at this time.
  • That's the co-pilot's seat. You wonder why it looks stained.
  • It's the right side display panel. It's just mostly pretty lights and stuff.
  • Oh, real nice. It really needed a nice big dollop of skin grease smeared on it.
  • It's just another in the array of displays you are totally mystified by.
  • That's the co-pilot's wheel. It doesn't really do anything. It's just supposed to make the co-pilot feel important.
  • This is the shuttle's cockpit. All the action takes place right here.
  • Through the cockpit glass you can see the Shuttlebay interior.
  • Wow, look at all the pretty stars.
  • My, that sure looks tasty. What the hell is it? It looks like a stomach or something. Check out that membrane.
  • ACME NANITE DETECTOR

SHUTTLE SUBROUTINE


DESIGNED BY:

DR. HAYDEN BELEAUXS


CRACKED BY:

THE NUMBKNUT GUYS

  • You pull the handle and hear something release on the outside of the shuttle.
  • The trunk is already open.
  • The trunk is empty, you really don't need to open it again.
  • Looky there. It's the trunk handle.
  • Janitor Wilco, what are you doing?! You have no authorization to take that shuttle. To make matters worse, you have launched into the middle of a Super Double Reverse Anti-Anomaly!
  • You will turn that ship around immediately and head back to the Shuttlebay! Do you understand, Wilco?!
  • (A LITTLE QUIETER THAN NORMAL) Bite me, Commander.
  • What was that last transmission, Wilco?!
  • Uh, we're, uh, having a little problem with the signal, Sir.
  • I mean ... uh, with all due respect, Sir, I did plead with you not to leave Stellar behind. Sir, I sense that something's just not right with that community.
  • I don't believe Stellar is dead and I just can't leave her there. I am going to do this, Sir, regardless of the consequences. Stellar saved my life not once, but twice. I owe her.
  • Well, that was her own stupid mistake. I demand that you return at once, Wilco! If you do so and surrender now, your record will be taken into consideration during your disciplinary hearing.
  • Oh, that'll help you loads!!!
  • I'm sorry, Sir, but I just can't. I have to do this.
  • WILCO! YOU FOOL!
  • Just then the shuttle is sucked into the anti-anomaly. Communication with the DeepShip has been disrupted.
  • This panel would control the weapons systems were this shuttle so equipped.

495.msgEdit

  • Hang on! I think we're going in!

500.msgEdit

  • Just as you crash to the floor of the Turboshaft, the HydroRiser piston gives way and the door slams shut -- with Stellar still trapped inside.
  • You claw and pull at the seams of the bulkhead door, but to no avail. Just then, you hear and feel an explosion which seems to have come from behind the door.
  • The door is sealed tight. You can hear no other noise after the ear-ringing from the blast subsides.
  • My God! I can't believe this. It can't be happening!
  • She was ... I was ...
  • S T E L L A R !!!
  • Unless you miss your guess, this button will take the Ascend-O-Pad to the Docking Bay.
  • I want to go to the Docking Bay. Up, up, and away!
  • Ascend-O-Pad, take me away!
  • The ceiling appears to be one seamless surface, reassuring you that you won't have to do any shaft-climbing in this adventure.
  • The Ascend-O-Pad's ceiling is a seamless plate of anodized lightweight quaturium, for high tensile strength, low maintenance, and easy monthly payments.
  • (SINGING) Ceilings ... nothing more than ceilings ...
  • These are indicator lights, not buttons! C'mon, get with the program!
  • These arrows cleverly indicate the direction in which the Ascend-O-Pad is moving.
  • Which direction am I going now?
  • Judging by the way you keep speaking to inanimate objects, I'd say you're going downhill fast.
  • You and what army?
  • Just walk through it. No sleight-of-hand is required!
  • This hatch is closed, but it opens automatically when the Ascend-O-Pad is on the Docking Bay level and there's a vehicle in the Bay.
  • The hatch is now open, allowing you free egress to your shuttle.
  • (Just what I need, a shuttlefull of free egress!)
  • I bid thee open!
  • (IN FALSETTO) If you're going in there, Graham, I'm staying out here!
  • I bid thee close!
  • (IN FALSETTO) If you're staying in here, Graham, I'm going out there!
  • You can't operate these hydraulic brakes manually. You'd shear your hand off into a thin smear of blood, mashed flesh and pulverized bone.
  • But hey, it's something to think about, right?
  • These hydraulic brakes allow the Ascend-O-Pad to stop smoothly. Note that you can't really see them from where you are, but you ... uh ... you somehow sense they're there.
  • Yeah, that's it, you somehow sense that they're there. That's the ticket!
  • Hi, draulics!
  • You try to rust, chip, peel or repaint the walls of the Ascend-O-Pad, but the dual layers of expanded Polycorbomite prevent you!
  • The wall panels of the Ascend-O-Pad are formed from a core of Fibersteel between dual layers of expanded Polycorbomite sheathing that's guaranteed not to rust, chip, peel, or need repainting for at least twelve millenia.
  • This is probably more than you wanted to know.
  • You mistake the dual layers of Polycorbomite sheathing for some sort of lickable wallpaper, and you give the wall a lick.
  • Hey! The snozzberries taste like snozzberries!
  • Your keen janitorial instincts tell you that this button takes you to Lab A.
  • You deftly attempt to press the Lab A button with your tongue.
  • Unfortunately, you lack the lingual strength to depress the button fully. But you deduce from the taste that whoever pushed this button last has recently been sifting through sewage.
  • You press the Lab B button, but the Ascend-O-Pad doesn't move. Apparently you need some sort of clearance to get to Lab B.
  • So it won't open. I didn't want to go to Lab B anyway.
  • Every fiber of your being cries out, "This button will take me to Lab B!"
  • Take me to Lab B! I have clearance!
  • Believing you utterly, the Ascend-O-Pad immediately descends to Laboratory B, where it drops you off and you save the galaxy. The end.
  • AS IF!
  • You can't reach them, you're inside the Ascend-O-Pad and they're out in the shaft.
  • (A feeling not wholly unfamiliar to you!)
  • These lights illuminate the interior of the shaft, just in case someone falls down it and needs some light to die by.
  • It's no use screaming for help at a time like this!
  • Nobody cares what happens to you!
  • The box is permanently sealed.
  • They must've known you were coming.
  • This box contains the atmospheric equalization subcircuitry, which automatically monitors the atmospheres of all the floors and subtly corrects the Ascend-O-Pad's interior psi, O2 concentration, gravity and ambient fragrance.
  • Right now it seems to be "Pine Landfill."
  • What's the current atmosphere?
  • Strangely unfunny.
  • Don't touch it, you'll break the magic spell that keeps it working.
  • This display shows you the Ascend-O-Pad's current location.
  • You're about to ask, "Where am I?" until you notice that the little lights overhead actually spell out the name of the location! Wow!
  • You find numerous trap doors in the Ascend-O-Pad's floor, but all of them are locked with big, heavy, rusty padlocks. Too bad!
  • You are standing on the Ascend-O-Pad, a platform that moves up and down inside a shaft that connects with all the possible floors in this underground building.
  • You examine the surface of the Ascend-O-Pad with your tongue, but other than a fair amount of dirt, you don't come up with anything.
  • Your highly-developed sixth sense tells you that this button will take you to someone's quarters.
  • You attempt and fail to press the "Quarters" button with your tongue.
  • Mmmmm! Ben-Gay!
  • It feels like an elevator.
  • The Ascend-O-Pad works much like an elevator.
  • In fact, if you can figure out why we didn't just call it an elevator, please let us know.
  • Can anyone hear me?
  • Unfortunately, the player can!
  • Just walk on through. The portway opens automatically.
  • This portway interfaces the Ascend-O-Pad with most of the rooms in the Golden Lightyears Research Building.
  • Listen to me! "To Serve Mankind" ... it's a COOKBOOK!
  • You're far too much of a wuss to pry open the portal doors.
  • It feels open.
  • Apparently, the door's been sealed off since the explosion.
  • The portal is closed, signifying that you're on the Docking Bay level.
  • This portal is open, allowing you to pass through the shaft into one of the rooms.
  • Open, you!
  • Make way! Here I come!
  • The Ascend-O-Pad guide rails are, like elementary algebra, beyond your grasp.
  • The Ascend-O-Pad slides smoothly along these four rails, usually.
  • It's times like these that we know your elevator doesn't quite reach the top.
  • This port interfaces visiting shuttles with the Ascend-O-Pad.
  • These components are permanently sealed so that clumsy, ham-handed adventurers who like to fiddle with everything won't accidentally kill themselves.
  • These hermetically-sealed components house the Ascend-O-Pad's Direction Correction connections, the Quark Torque fork, and the Ascension-Descension Suspension Tension extensions.
  • Don't distract them. They're holding your life in their hands.
  • I don't know.
  • From inside the Ascend-O-Pad, you can't reach the Liftbay Relay Outlay Array.
  • Heck, you can't even SAY "Liftbay Relay Outlay Array."
  • Beneath the Ascend-O-Pad, the Liftbay Relay Outlay Array quietly does its thing.
  • The Liftbay Relay Outlay Array is permanently lubricated. Licking it will not help.

510.msgEdit

  • Dr. Beleauxs explains in exacting detail precisely what you'll need to do. For Stellar's sake, you'd better pay attention!
  • The Doctor explains that he has a plan. He wants you to pull the shuttle into Lab B.
  • Commander Kielbasa and that other guy look like they're just finishing up a conversation.
  • Janitor Wilco, Dr. Beleauxs and I were just talking about you.
  • Please report to Sharpei's quarters, Janitor Wilco. She is in need of someone with your special skill set. Be quick about it.
  • Yes, Sir.
  • Wilco!? If you don't follow my orders immediately, I'll bust you down ... oh, I forgot. You're already as low as you can get. Trust me. I'll make your life more miserable than it already is! Now, move it!
  • Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir.
  • Utterly and totally bored with the incredibly slow on-line service, you wisely click it away.
  • Dr. Beleauxs is fortunately able to return you to your original size. (You wonder if he can make any parts bigger.)
  • Janitor! (VERY FIRMLY) I believe you were given specific orders. Carry them out immediately!
  • Oh, well, I ... um ... sorry. I'll get right on it, Sir.
  • Overwhelmed by the evidence you have confronted him with, the Doctor spills the beans.
  • Once you have finished loading the tracking software into your navigational computer, I will shrink your shuttle, with you in it, down to nanite scale.
  • I will then introduce the shuttle into a liquid which will serve as a vehicle for your injection into Stellar's bloodstream.
  • You consider switching the Multiband UV Wave Bath to UV-A so you can catch a quick tan, but you're pretty sure someone would yell at you about it.
  • Hey! They've got their own Multiband UV Wave Bath, straight out of the Edmundane Catalog.
  • I like how you make my shirt and teeth look so bright and snazzy!
  • You've got far more important things to do than read books right now.
  • (Like play computer games!)
  • Say, they've got all four volumes of Assic Iasimov's FOUNDATION trilogy!
  • These are old-fashioned books. You can't talk to them, print them out, edit them, transmit them, or upload them.
  • There's a nice variety of books on the doctor's shelf:
  • "The Hidden Life of Orats" ...
  • "What They Don't Teach You at StarCon Academy" ...
  • "All I Need to Know, I Learned from the Q Continuum" ...
  • and "The Hunt for Red Corpuscle."
  • I think it's a damn box!!!
  • They're permanently attached to the counter. You're hosed!
  • A couple of bunsen burners sit on the counter.
  • Burn, baby, burn!
  • Those buttons seem to be self-explanatory. I wonder what they do.
  • Don't let the Crip Thrip out, it could be rabid, and there's nothing more dangerous than a rabid moth!
  • You peek inside the cage and see ...
  • ... a Crip Thrip, a kind of moth that beats you up, steals your team jacket, and then eats it.
  • The sound of your voice irritates the caged creatures and makes them jump up and down excitedly and hoot and holler.
  • That's odd, you had the same effect on the inmates when you toured the StarCon Penal Colony.
  • (And stop giggling at the word "penal.")
  • You'll keep your hand out of the Ruby-Backed Flagellant's cage unless you're looking for an angry red welt across your knuckles.
  • (And who isn't?)
  • A beautiful Ruby-Backed Flagellant hops around in this cage, whipping itself with its prehensile tail.
  • Careful, the Orion Vivisectional Mudpuppy also enjoys vivisecting the occasional humanoid finger.
  • In this cage, you can just make out the familiar form of an Orion Vivisectional Mudpuppy, the only creature in the universe that sedates itself, pins itself down, dissects itself, and lets you copy its lab notes.
  • Hey, hey, hey, careful! These endearing little furry purring creatures have only three rules: don't get them wet, don't feed them after midnight, and ...
  • Oops, wrong endearing little furry purring creatures.
  • This cage appears to be full of endearing little furry purring creatures. You vaguely remember seeing similar creatures on someone's screen saver.
  • Gee, Dad! It's a Northgateway with five jigabytes of RAM, a Molecular Memory hard disk with infinite capacity, a dodecaspeed CD-ROM drive, Microsloth-compatible mouse, and a built-in 10K-pin laser printer.
  • (Just three more jigabytes, and you can install OS/2 on it!)
  • You can't talk to a computer! What do you think this is, 20th Century Earth?
  • It looks like maybe it holds a set of books or something. (This would be something foreign to you.)
  • Just leave, Mr. Wilco. I have to (SLIGHT PAUSE) prepare for the opening of Golden Lightyears. I wonder what your commander would think of your annoying presence here? Why, he'd haul your keel and ... anyway, I must finish what I've started. Don't let the door mash your glutes.
  • What is this?
  • Well ... I ...
  • Is this supposed to prove something?
  • Well, uh ... actually ...
  • What you have there stacks up to nothing more than a significant waste of PolyPulp, Boy! Now, leave me to my work.
  • Is their any hope? What can we do?
  • I don't know. Let me think.
  • Why, I believe I have a plan that will work, Wilco. Pull your shuttle around to Lab B. You're going to get to know Stellar much more closely than you ever imagined.
  • Well, Dr. Beleauxs, I think you've got some explaining to do.
  • You're out of your mind, Wilco.
  • So, what do you have to say for yourself now, Doctor?
  • Confronted with the facts found in the files you located, he freaks and spills all.
  • Oh ... my ...
  • Eloquently stated.
  • I ... I didn't think this all the way through until I'd crossed my own personal ethical line. I was already ...
  • It had already gone too far. The experiments alone ... I thought I could do just this one thing and still live with myself.
  • Love can move a person to do some strange things, Wilco. She knew how I felt and used it to her advantage.
  • I think I know what you mean about that love thing ... But wait a minute. Slow down.
  • Are you saying you have the hots for ... er, I mean, you are actually romantically intrigued by SHARPEI?
  • Wow, you are serious. (LONG PAUSE)
  • I agree that love can make you do some weird stuff. In this case though, it made you do some stuff that was unethical and illegal, Doctor.
  • Where is Stellar Santiago? I know she was alive -- that her death was faked! What have you done with her?
  • Great Caesar's ghost! The woman ... she's still alive, but I'm afraid not much time remains.
  • She is? What do you mean, "not much time remains"?!
  • As you must realize by now, the Golden Lightyears project was merely a front for the research I'd been conducting per Sharpei's wishes.
  • She is intensely fearful of death. You probably didn't notice that she is getting up in age a bit.
  • (SARCASTICALLY) Yeah, who could have guessed that?
  • In very simple terms, Janitor Wilco ...
  • That's Janitor Second Class, Pal, and don't you forget it!
  • Excuse me, Janitor SECOND CLASS. As I was saying, Sharpei feared dying -- enough to take the lives of others to save her own. She knew I loved her. I remember the day I met her.
  • It was at the funeral of, oh, I believe it was her fourth husband, and I remember never having seen her look SO radiant! I fell for her -- hard. And she knew it. You should have seen her in black!
  • I'll pass, thanks. Just tell me about Stellar!
  • Okay, the bottom line is that I have developed a way to extend Sharpei's life by transferring her mental essence into the body of another. It was to be you until your friend Stellar Santiago got in the way. We thought no one would miss you. Go figure.
  • What I have done is to employ nanotechnology to take over the designated host body, as is happening with your friend as we speak.
  • Stellar's body is being taken over by Sharpei? Geez! But I don't understand! Is there anything we can do to stop it?!
  • I've never really thought of it that way.
  • Well, think about it NOW! We have to save Stellar. You can't let her die. You can redeem yourself at least to some degree, Doc.
  • As much as it pains me to admit it, you're right, Roger. You're right. (LONG PAUSE)
  • Okay, I think I may have a plan. WE can save her. There were some interesting spin-off technological breakthroughs. I'm going to send YOU in to stop Sharpei.
  • Say what? No, I don't think ...
  • It's her only chance. If you seriously care for your friend, you'll do this.
  • Oh. The only way, huh?
  • The only way.
  • Well ... Okay, then. I hope you're sure about this.
  • I'm positive. Here's how we shall go about it. You will move your shuttle into Lab B. Meanwhile, I will generate new software for your shuttle's navigational system which will help you locate the nanites -- the very small robotic devices I developed for the intrusion. One of them is Sharpei.
  • If you can stop Sharpei ... well, your friend's chances of survival improve immensely. Then ... then, once I have located and extracted YOU, I shall work to repair whatever damage may have been done to Stellar during the attempted incursion.
  • So, what do you have to say for yourself now, Doctor?
  • He's kind of gross-looking. Let's not.
  • He seems to be busy with his experiments.
  • It's Dr. Beleauxs, Delta Burksilon's token evil scientist.
  • Hello, Doctor.
  • Janitor Wilco? What in blazes are you doing here?
  • Well, Doc, I got a distress call.
  • So, why are you here?
  • Because I know it originated here. In fact, it was from Stellar Santiago.
  • You're out of your mind, Wilco. Now go away and leave me alone. I've got important work to do. Good-bye!
  • I ... I know something's up here, Doc, and I'm gonna get to the bottom of it. You'll be sorry, Pal!!
  • Yes, whatever you say, Wilco. Just get out of my face!
  • You know, he's a bit ticked at you. I'd leave him alone unless you've got something really important to bug him about.
  • Wilco, I insist that you leave me alone!
  • What do you think you're doing, you nincompoop?! I'd appreciate it if you would leave my computer alone while I'm working.
  • Mr. Wilco, I would advise you to stay out of my personal belongings. I do not want to have to get physical with you. Mind you, I will if I have to. And don't think I can't take you!
  • These are the call buttons for the Ascend-O-Pad.
  • Come get me! Here I am!
  • Insert your own excuse here for why you can't pick up the flask.
  • You think it's an Erlenmeyer flask.
  • As usual, though, you're sadly mistaken. An Erlenmeyer flask is conical; this flask is spherical. Shows what YOU know.
  • There's nothing to drink in the flask.
  • After your recent experience on the SCS Goliath, you've had quite enough of crawling around below floorboards to last you for a while. They'll have to find a fresher sap.
  • It's too dark to make out any details beneath the grid, but you think you can hear whirrs, clanks and clicks far, far below.
  • Just for the purposes of exploration, you hork a loogie down the grid to see how long it takes to splat at the bottom.
  • You never hear a splat!
  • Coooooooool!
  • You hazily recall from a childhood experience that waving your hand in front of an electric eye is a good way to need the top half of your head surgically re-attached.
  • There's some sort of infrared motion detector unit at floor level.
  • You hazily recall from a childhood experience that licking an electric eye is a good way to need your torso surgically re-attached.
  • The tank of bunsen seems firmly rooted.
  • (Unlike yourself.)
  • Judging from the way this tank is hooked up to the bunsen burner above it, you figure it must be a big container of bunsen.
  • You guys must be under a lot of pressure.
  • ALL ACCOUNTING FUNCTIONS ARE CURRENTLY DOWN DUE TO BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE IN THIS MATTER.
  • These aren't on-line yet. Apparently, budget isn't a big concern here.
  • It's a button to access bean-counter land.
  • After a click of the screen button, Plodigy begins to painfully slowly fill the screen.
  • Oh, screw it. Even you don't have the time or patience for this.
  • It's a button to go in to some sort of communications mode, as indicated by its title.
  • INSERT CYBERSPACE JACK NOW.
  • Nothing happens. Maybe something needs to be plugged into the jack plug opening.
  • Yeow. Something's happening now!
  • It's a button to operate cyberfunctions.
  • It's just an old-fashioned disk drive.
  • That's an interesting idea. Not a good one ... but interesting nonetheless.
  • It looks like a cyberjack plug receptor.
  • It's a touch-sensitive screen.
  • It's a monitor. You've seen one before. In fact, you're seeing two right now.
  • I wouldn't screw with it if I were you. The doctor already holds you in poor favor. Messing with this might really fry his shorts.
  • As indicated in the picture, it's a power button.
  • ALL RESEARCH FUNCTIONS ARE DOWN UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE DUE TO INSUFFICIENT FUNDING. TALK TO YOUR LOCAL CONGRESSPERSON TO COMPLAIN.
  • Ah, who wants to look at boring old research records. Try something else.
  • It's, as labeled, a button to access boring research information.
  • You have no use for that, you silly little janitor.
  • It appears to be an old 1586 circuit board. Oh, that's right, you're not supposed to be a tekkie. We hope we didn't confuse you.
  • It's just an old, beat-up chip.
  • You've heard of black boxes, haven't you? Well, this one's red.
  • By Levy's Shoemaker, you're rude! What do you think you're doing?
  • I was only going to ...
  • Spare me the details and please leave me and my chair in peace! You're not even supposed to be here.
  • Hey, this guy ordered himself one nice desk chair!
  • You have surprisingly little to say to the chair.
  • The door is a microbe-safe biofilter with quasi-redundant filter seals. You'll never get it open by hand.
  • This is the door to the Ascend-O-Pad. Unless you're on the other side of it, in which case it's the door to Laboratory A.
  • Hey you, door! Let's see some opening and closing action!
  • You see no on/off switch. That's because this lamp has a motion-detection rheostat that turns it on whenever anyone enters the room.
  • It's also cheaper to animate that way.
  • Halogen! And it's from the Schlepper Image catalog! Swank!
  • You take possession of it.
  • It appears to be a Callahan moddie. Hmmm, seems you remember someone talking about these recently.
  • There are no controls on this monitor. It operates with an Optical Retinal Feedback FT, which allows it to constantly monitor your eyes and adjust itself automatically for contrast, brightness, hue, tint, and convergence.
  • And it's got works-in-a-drawer for easy on-site service!
  • On Dr. Beleauxs' monitor, you see the familiar opening screen of "Plodigy, the World's Most Leisurely Bulletin Board." (Yeah, right.)
  • Sorry, this computer uses a primitive manual interface.
  • By Losira's Chromosomes! What are you doing?
  • I thought I ...
  • I don't care WHAT you thought! Take your hands off my private papers and get out of here!
  • You pick up the memo and read through it. Sharpei was concerned that the Secondary Transplant Subject had "evaded recruitment" and that steps would need to be taken to either procure the subject forthwith or find a new STS.
  • As usual, you're not really sure what they're talking about, but you're sure you don't like the sound of it.
  • This page appears to be a memo from Sharpei to Dr. Beleauxs.
  • You begin to read the memo out loud, but the sound of your own voice always makes you queasy.
  • By Arnold's Accent, what precisely do you think you're doing?
  • I was just ...
  • No no no, I don't have time for your gibbering. Just leave that alone. And don't slam the door behind you.
  • You quickly thumb through the report. It goes into nauseating detail about how certain parts of the Orbital Village were constructed using microtechnology. A race of microrobots, developed here in the Lab by Dr. Beleauxs, built critical sections of the Village that would've been hazardous to assemble by normal means.
  • This helped the project come in under budget and in record time. Moreover, the technology developed for the project can be applied in countless other ways, further defraying the cost of the research and development.
  • The implications of this don't hit you for several years.
  • This lab report charts the progress of the Golden Lightyears Orbital Retirement Village.
  • You start to read the report to yourself, but stop when you start to nod off.
  • What in the Pleiades do you think you're up to?
  • I was only trying ...
  • I'm not interested in your excuses. If you're not going to make yourself useful, kindly leave me to my work!
  • You surreptitiously page through the memo. It's a little too dense for you (there's a switch!), but it's apparently a discussion of how to graft attenuated neurons to computerized controllers, whatever that means.
  • Your brain starts to hurt, so you replace the memo.
  • The subject of this memo reads, "Submicroscopic Neural Linkages."
  • You try sounding out some of the longer words, but you still can't understand most of what's contained in the memo.
  • You'll flood the entire containment area with cybergenes!
  • Now we want you to go sit in the corner and just THINK about what you almost did.
  • A cybergenic incubator! You've heard about them, you've seen pictures in magazines, but you never thought you'd actually get to see one up close!
  • Big whoop.
  • Yes, it resembles a Tootsie Roll Pop(TM), but you're still better off not applying your tongue to the cybergenic incubator.
  • Some printouts have emerged from the Doctor's printer.
  • You're hesitant to touch that, what with everything in here being so clean and dust-free and all.
  • Wow, a mad scientist working on a planet called "Delta Burksilon." You wonder what he's doing here. Designing women perhaps?
  • Sorry.
  • This is one of the nanotechnology laboratories in the Golden Lightyears Research Installation.
  • Nano nano!
  • Say! Sturdy!
  • This depiction of a reagent holder is based on science fact and current NASA research, science so hard you could bounce an asteroid off of it.
  • It's meant to hold beakers, not to hold your tongue. So, hold your tongue.
  • You wipe a few crumbs off the corner of the lab table.
  • Corner? What corner? But ... okay, I'm confused.
  • This lab table has a pleasingly round shape and a conveniently flat surface.
  • You decide to table the dumb remarks for now.
  • You write "wash me" in the dust on the lab table.
  • This is clever of me!
  • This lab table has a conveniently round shape and pleasingly flat surface.
  • You counter with another silly remark.
  • A Trithisonium bulb produces temperatures in excess of 2500 degrees Fahrenheit, which is slightly more than enough to instantly charcoal-broil your skin.
  • Thus sealing in the natural juices.
  • The lab table is illuminated by a full-spectrum Trithisonium bulb that simulates the naturally-occurring light of a trinary star system.
  • You have no particular desire to broil your tongue ... at least, not now.
  • Nice try, but highly-refined Smegminium such as this weighs over two tons per gram.
  • It also won't win you any friends on the singles circuit.
  • It looks like a typical tank of Smegminium, a cheesy substance used in the manufacture of projectiles, thrusters, and pistons.
  • Way too disgusting. Cut that RIGHT out.
  • Hey, trust us, you don't want to get within ten feet of Fresnon.
  • The markings on this tank indicate that it's full of Fresnon, a deadly nerve gas.
  • Symptoms of exposure include slurred speech, a red neck, raisin-like wrinkling of the face and extremities, and a sudden fondness for livestock.
  • Yeah, you try sucking down a lungful of Fresnon and you'll end up marrying your cousin and shooting rats down at the junkyard for kicks.
  • You take possession of the Callahan moddie.
  • There's nothing in here for which you have any use.
  • It's just tekkie stuff. There is a Callahan moddie here. Seems you remember talking about those things to someone recently.
  • It's just boring tekkie stuff.
  • That's odd, they're all marked ROGER WILCO: DO NOT TOUCH.
  • That looks like a standard test tube rack.
  • Nice rack you've got there!
  • It's not your job to change the lightbulbs here. But someone seriously needs to.
  • Just what this room needs: a wall light that gives off a pleasant red glow.
  • Can you change color, or are you just going to ignore me?
  • The monitor is too high overhead to reach.
  • An overhead readout constantly displays the Lab's status.
  • Oddly, it reports that all conditions report green. Perhaps it's color blind.
  • Shouldn't you just say "Condition Red"?
  • You've already got plenty of garbage in your inventory.
  • It's an ergonomically-designed aerodynamic hole to throw trash in.
  • Didn't anyone ever teach you not to apply your mouth to garbage receptacles?
  • You're not sure whether to turn it on, turn it off, open it, close it, disassemble it, pet it, wear it, whip up a batch of Margaritas in it, launch it, or clean it. So, in your decisive way, you do nothing with it.
  • This is the only piece of equipment in the Lab that's totally unfamiliar to you.
  • It appears biomechanical in nature, with a metallic skin that seems to expand and contract slightly.
  • Do you understand me? Sprechen sie Deutsch? Parlez-vous francais? Klaatu Barada Nikto?
  • Apparently it is either non-sentient ... or sentient but a good enough judge of character not to want to encourage you.

520.msgEdit

  • Hey, what the ...
  • While we await a fully formed thought from Roger, it should be mentioned that there seems to be some sort of gas entering the room through the left vent.
  • Hey, there seems to be some sort of gas entering the room through the left vent!
  • I seem to be in a world of deep ... (SUDDEN REALIZATION) Ah, geez, the door!
  • Janitor Second Class Roger Wilco reporting as ordered, Ma'am.
  • Wilco, you say.
  • Yes, Ma'am.
  • Well, Mr. Wilco, I expected you here some time ago. I've been kept waiting for MINUTES now!
  • I'm very sorry, Ma'a ... (INTERRUPTED BY SHARPEI)
  • Ah, save the pathetic whimperings for your StarCon superiors, which I would expect includes everyone and everything on the food chain over there.
  • Ma'am, I came as ...
  • Young man, I lack the time, and most importantly, the PATIENCE to indulge you as you whine your way from one excuse to the next. May we please just begin?
  • Sorry, but I wasn't briefed on what tasks would be required of me.
  • You are a janitor, Mr.Wilco! What do you THINK I want from you, a heart transplant? What has become of StarCon?
  • When my fifth husband, Admiral Blundtphang, served, the crop of up-and-coming cadets seemed to have such promise. I recall this one rather striking cadet who ... oh well, never mind that.
  • But you! I pray you do not typify what might be slithering down the halls of our formerly prestigious academy. That is one thing I do not look forward to witnessing.
  • Get to work, Mr Wilco. You'll find a mop and a bucket right over there. I have no time to devote to your education. That would take a lifetime and the most copious amount of patience a universe could muster. My life is soon to expire. Please, just clean. I must rest now.
  • Ahem! ... Mr. Wilco, I asked you to mop the floors. Do I have to get Commander Kielbasa in here to get you to do your job?
  • No, Ma'am. I'll get right on it, Ma'am.
  • Mr. Wilco, are the little voices in your head drowning me out? Get in there and take care of that toilet. My report of your performance to your commander is not looking too favorable at this time.
  • Yes, Ma'am. I'm very sorry, Ma'am. It'll never happen again, Ma'am.
  • Mr. Wilco, please rattle the handle on that commode. It is positively maddening.
  • You got it, Toot ... ooh, uh, I mean, right away, Ma'am. Whatever I can do.
  • Please do it -- and quietly! I must have my rest.
  • Wilco, did I stutter? Get my medicine -- immediately!
  • I'm sorry, Ma'am. I'll take care of it.
  • Mr. Wilco, it is time for me to take my meds. Please fetch my trysonixsortium from the medicine cabinet.
  • Yes, Ma'am!
  • (UNDER HIS BREATH) Maybe I can get this old hag to overdose.
  • What was that, Janitor?!
  • Uh, nothing, Ma'am. I'll get those for you right away.
  • (URGENTLY) Wilco!
  • (CALMLY) Oh, hi, Stellar. What're you doing here?
  • There's no time to talk, Roger! We've got get out of here NOW!
  • ONE!
  • TWO!
  • (MORE LABORED) THREE!
  • Seems like a few sequels since we've been in any bathrooms. I know what you've been thinking. You're probably thinking, "Have they waited four sequels to do bathroom humor or has it been just three?"
  • Well, to tell you the truth, in all the sequel-generating excitement we've kind of lost track ourselves. So you've got to ask yourself just one question. Are they hard-up enough to resort to that level of humor at this point in the game?
  • Nah, not yet ... That is, I MEAN, we like to think we've slithered up a fair number of floors from the basement level of the comedic food chain.
  • Either that or it's one of those relative things. Maybe it's because Al just continues to lower the basement. Anyway, uh, what were we talking about?
  • This, as clearly indicated by the porcelinite throne and other similiar types of hardware, is a lavatory, head, restroom, think tank, can, throne, library, waste extrusion facility, etc.
  • This would appear to be the bathroom door. Perhaps not everything should be shared.
  • Yes, you've seen the holo-ads! You've seen the infomercials! Here it is, ladies and gentleman! The one, the only, the CrapMatic Adjustable Bed!
  • Yes, there's no mistaking it. The programmable mattress shapes to at least five different skeletal types as well as two non-skeletal modes. The CrapMatic harnesses the latest in time-proven, very versatile -- and patented -- HydroRiser technology.
  • Don't be the last one in your colony to own the most capital-conscious therapeutic stationary device known to being-kind, and at a price you will find stunning. (DISCLAIMER SPOKEN RAPIDLY) Some exo-skeletal types not supported. Not available in all quadrants. Please allow two to three light years for delivery.
  • The CrapMatic HydroRiser Adjustable cradles the incredibly old-looking Sharpei.
  • (ROGER'S MIND) Geez, she's old-looking. I mean OLD-looking. Her face looks like an aerial map of a primitive irrigation project. You have the urge to grab a pen a draw topographic lines around it just for fun.
  • There's this one "Grand Canyon" kind of area where erosion in the skin folds may reveal dermal layers indicating this person's age in epochs. Geologists and Dermatologists alike would compete viciously for the opportunity to explore this Lost Dutchman Mine of faces.
  • Lodged in those imperceptibly deep folds is material that could be carbon-14 dated, perhaps holding keys to the very creation of the universe itself. Oh, yeah, this is Space Quest. Let's just say she's old.
  • The CrapMatic Adjustable Bed minus HydroRiser piston stands impotent.
  • Despite your proclivity for screwing with things you should not, you decide to pass this time.
  • There sure are some cool-looking machines here. That one has neat blue lights.
  • You as a janitor would only have a clue as to what was contained in those bottles if the contents showing through them resembled some sort of waste product or cleaning supply.
  • Like you need another one of these!
  • Ah, a bucket, one of the staples of any janitor's arsenal.
  • I guess even the ill rich must have some extravagances. Where's the cyberpoodle? Oh well, they're making them too well now, anyway. You just can't seem to kick them hard enough.
  • You don't need it and you aren't here to play with stuff.
  • It looks like an empty specimen jar. Maybe later if you find some free time, you could give it a fill. Keeps the techs guessing.
  • Things are stored in there probably. It's incredibly common.
  • The HydroRiser piston gleams proudly, truly up to the task of propping up the most expansive of dermally housed humanoids.
  • The doormat sucks you absolutely clean of any kind of debris, virus, bacteria, lawyer or transient product manager which may have become attached to your person. Pretty cool, eh?
  • Mr. Wilco. Where DO you think you're going? I am sure my friend the Commander of StarCon intended for you to attend to me until otherwise ordered. I'd hate to have to tell him you were anything but committed to the task assigned and entrusted to you by your superiors.
  • Drats! It won't budge. I've got to get out of here somehow! No windows and the walls are solid bulkhead. And I'm too big to flush myself out of here. This is the only way. What would MacGyver do now?
  • You realize your strength alone will be no match for the mechanized door.
  • You are able to budge it only a couple of more inches -- not enough to slip through, though. Must have been that depression-induced eating binge you went on after being demoted.
  • All of a sudden behind you, Stellar beams into the room and helps pull the door!
  • ROGER, PULL HARDER!
  • You've heard that sentence before, but with a different verb.
  • The door grudgingly opens a few inches. Just as it does, Stellar gives you a big push from behind, knocking you into the turboshaft just as the door slams shut -- for what seems to be for the final time. Unfortunately, Stellar's still on the inside!
  • You know, if you do what Sharpei asks, we might all get out of here a lot more quickly.
  • Good thinking! Wedged in the door, the manual override control causes the piston to strain against the door.
  • It pushes a few inches and seems to strain at that point.
  • Wow! Suddenly you see another pair of hands.
  • This is apparently her dresser. With glaciated facial terrain like that, the escort services must rake it in.
  • Cool. Another machine that lights up and goes "PING."
  • Be polite. You should only do that if Sharpei asks you to.
  • The headboard unit houses a really nifty eight-track laser disc player.
  • It looks like a heart monitor. It must be amazingly sensitive since this crusty old beast appears rather heartless.
  • Ah, the door which allowed you into this room.
  • It's a little high up on the wall for what you have in mind.
  • There's a small hole in the wall here. Perhaps it's for the central vacuum system. How you've longed for StarCon to upgrade to that kind of system!
  • There seem to be a few redundant systems monitors here. A more alert person would be led to believe that someone has accounted for the possible arrival of different types of humanoids in this otherwise personal facility.
  • It's a cabinet containing old Sharpei's drugs.
  • I can't find her medicine! I don't think she knows what she's talking about.
  • The cart contains many devices which could be held in the palm of one's hand, but, for the sake of the much more fiscally important impressions which must be made on patients, administrators, and wealthy contributors, they are incorporated into large carts with neat devices which make nifty "beep" and "ping" sounds. Helps the funding.
  • These are supplies of a medical nature for the "cratered one".
  • It's some sort of medical unit. You don't what it is. After all, you're a janitor, not a doctor, dammit!
  • It's a neat round design on the floor to break up the flatness of its look but more than anything else, it serves to be more of a clod trap for people like you who trip over it even though it's absolutely flush with everything around it. Go figure.
  • Yeah, you just can't get enough of that mopping action.
  • You've seen plenty of these babies in your lifetime.
  • A wall-mounted interface appears to have jacks for the flow of data and/or power.
  • Ah, one of the much-heralded "Just Say No To Death" devices designed to make you at least feel perky and more upbeat about the big "D".
  • Instead of the nervous-making blips and occasional flat-line -- depending on what kind of night the old doc had -- these machines seem to help make the whole death thing less of a downer.
  • With these machines the survivors can leave the room humming a final but not so downbeat ending theme or replay in their minds the pleasant electronic wither of the monitor when the heart makes that final squeeze, instead of some real downer thing like last words or something inconsiderately spewed at that last moment by the soon-to-be-declared deceased.
  • While it looks like it might detach, you have no use for it. Don't be greedy.
  • You give the piston a yank and, sure enough, it comes loose in your hands. Perhaps it was your raw strength. More than likely, it was defective.
  • The HydroRiser piston seems to be the real power behind the adjustable bed.
  • A round inset light glows softly in the morbid setting.
  • This is the emergency light that helps you find the toilet in case you find out that something really bad is about to happen even when the ship's main power is down.
  • Some people have security blankets. For you, it's the bathroom.
  • It's a red panel in the foreground. You really don't know what it does, nor do you care.
  • That's a joke can. The old-timers use it to fake the new interns into thinking they have sucking chest wounds. It's a real hoot.
  • It's some kind of red medical-type thing.
  • This is the personal medical suite of the legendary Sharpei. She spends her advancing days here at the ever-expanding retirement complex on Delta Burksilon V.
  • It's some scanner-looking thing above the bed.
  • Don't even try it, Wilco! Just do what is asked of you.
  • That's not going to help! Move it, Man!
  • The wrinkled one rests quietly in her CrapMatic Adjustable Bed.
  • She seems to be resting rather peacefully.
  • Hello, Ma'am.
  • Just do your duties, janitor.
  • As fulfilling as a conversation with Sharpei might be, you can't talk to her in her current state.
  • A sink uncharacteristically clutters up the restroom.
  • (GO TO 500 - TURBOSHAFT TO CONTINUE ANIMATION SEQUENCE?)
  • It's Stellar's hand! You're wasting time!
  • That'd be way too much like manual labor and we know how you feel about that. Also, they're useless to you.
  • You look at it but nothing strikes your fancy.
  • A porcelinite throne serves as the centerpiece of the bathroom.
  • Through the passage of time some personal habits haven't changed with humanoids of earth heritage. Although no one knows the true origin, people have been hanging rolls of flimsy paper called azwipe next to their extruded item disposal units. Since no one is certain of its actual use, it is a mere cultural decoration in most circles.
  • A clean towel dutifully hangs, awaiting its next use.
  • It looks like a vein juicer.
  • A vent for careful climatic control takes up a significant portion of this wall segment.
  • A contaminated waste items receptacle stands awaiting contaminated waste items.
  • This is a circuit analysis diagnostics unit.

530.msgEdit

  • The shuttle is nicely miniaturized by the beam deal. Hopefully, it is reversible. Perhaps you should have asked about that. There are some things you can't afford to have smaller.
  • (THIS IS A NEWLY ADDED PROGRAM CONTROL ROOM ON DELTA BURKSILON)

540.msgEdit

  • Oh, there you are, Wilco.
  • Nice shot!

550.msgEdit

  • You smartly drop the board in place, spanning the gap between the two bridge sections.
  • Leave it alone. It's just there for decoration.
  • Hey, leave the signs alone. Were you born in North Fork or what?!
  • Well, there's still plenty of room to grow. But if it's going to be as well-developed as what's in the foreground, why bother? Don't you just love bureaucracy?
  • Forget it. You don't resemble that bird. Well, except for the pinfeathers in those chicken legs of yours.
  • Hey! FREE bird seed! And so conveniently placed under a huge boulder, too!
  • Nah, leave it where it is. You never know when you'll need it again.
  • It's the board you so cleverly used to span the bridge gap.
  • That's quite a leap. You'd be able to clear it if you could get a running start. But you can't run in this game, only walk. In this Space Quest, you can't switch to "Sprint".
  • Were you hoping for a cyberprick?
  • Cool. Cybercacti.
  • Whoops!
  • Guess you're about to find out if there's cybergravity.
  • Apparently, it does exist. As you plummet to your cyberdeath, you are confronted by a variant of an age-old question: if you fall and hit the ground within cyberspace and no one is there to hear it, will you make an audible splat?
  • Yep.
  • It's an office sign.
  • Talk about a brave new world. You'd better be up for it if you plan to explore this cyberterrain.
  • This cyberterrain is just a little arid. It's just more evidence to confirm the old adage that, if there's time enough to do it, there's time enough to do it half-assed.
  • For those of you who aren't paying attention, that's a stop sign.
  • Not even cyberspace is immune from the mentally deficient types who shoot at road signs. How macho they must think they are.

560.msgEdit

  • Bet you can't fit that thing in your pants.
  • Guess I was wrong. It does fit. There must be plenty of spare room in there.
  • A long section of board lies on the ground.
  • There's nothing you can do now. It did have potential at one time.
  • A carelessly discarded bucket of building material has been spilled and allowed to harden.
  • You etch your initials in the rust. Like anyone will notice.
  • Girders -- some of the building materials some airheaded committee thought necessary for their project -- lay unused and heavily rusted.
  • You give the rust a lick. Mmmm, mmm good.
  • The information highway needs a bit more TLC ... about $50 trillion worth.
  • There's no Monolith Burger in this game, so there's not much need for it. The non-existent workers sure aren't putting a strain on it.
  • Oh, Momma! I'm guessing one too many burritos for the last guy in here!
  • The PortaHead by Shroade Johns, Inc., stands silently waiting to make its designated collection of organic waste products.
  • Hello ...
  • It sounds real empty.
  • A rag hangs from the sawhorse. Who knows what it last wiped up.
  • Lordy, Lordy, Lordy! You want to stick this rag of unknown spillages in your mouth? Momma!
  • This seems the to be the contractor's office for the information superhighway. It's not too congested.
  • Hello! Is there anybody out there?
  • Sounds as uncongested as it looks.
  • It's as useless to you as it is where it stands.
  • Old highway safety devices recycled from either a decade or ten years ago stand alert and ready for the non-existent workers to use.
  • A screwdriver lies on the ground, probably discarded by the malcontent who vandalized the sign.
  • Remembering how cool Manuel Auxveride looks with a toothpick hanging casually from his mouth, you contemplate trying a screwdriver. You've heard that bigger is better -- a few times too many!
  • Fresh out of spray paint, you are only able to read it.
  • The sign says it all. There was much talk and rhetoric about the information superhighway, but the executive and legislative branches seem quite opposed to getting together on just about anything either one of them introduces ... just look at the space program.
  • Anyway, the frustration of a former employee is documented in the amendments to the "Opens" date.
  • It's the skeleton of a skyscraper curently under construction.
  • At least they've gotten a good start on the executive headquarters. Guess that's business as usual.
  • A blue sky complete with moon is visible above the fog of cyberspace.
  • It's been sitting far too long to be able to start now.
  • It's a BFT 9000 cyberearth mover.
  • It feels trailer-like.
  • This is the temporary on-site supervisor's office. It was abandoned with the rest of the project once funding was slashed.
  • Nah, you decide to pass since you've never really aquired a taste for oxidized paint.
  • As nifty a souvenir as that would make, you don't want to risk the pocket splinters.
  • In case you are able to see text only and not pictures, the sign says "office".
  • Come on, now! You really want to look through the garbage? Didn't you get enough of that in your quarters on the DeepShip?
  • It's a trash can that probably hasn't been emptied in a loooong time. By the looks of this place, it needs to be a LOT bigger.
  • It's out of commission now, but you did always dream of driving one of these babies when you were a rugrat.
  • Wow, a genuine Tonkoid M501, and the best year, too. It's been a long time since it's rolled over any plasticrete.
  • I thought that phase passed in the seventies.
  • These weeds are a handy place to mark your territory. Go ahead ... no one's looking.
  • A cute little whirlwind races by. Kind of reminds you of those warm and fuzzy nuclear holocaust movies they showed you when you were a kid. Don't forget -- duck and cover.

570.msgEdit

  • EX-cuse me, Mr. Wilco. Those are reference files only and not available for loan. You may leave, but the folders will remain here.
  • Goodbye. Come back. We're here to serve you blah blah bah. Don't you have something you should be doing?
  • You give the desktop bell a tap to get the attention of Sis Inny.
  • It looks strangely like a bell.
  • Does your number match the one shown by the counter?
  • Yo, Bit Boy. Do you like standing in line? You already have file room access. Move it!
  • No, uh, I don't seem to have that one, but ...
  • I A M S O R R Y, S I R! (PAUSE) Strangely enough, there is no provision for "buts" in this system. You either have the number shown or you do not.
  • Now, please await the calling of your number. Thank you very much. I have important things to do.
  • As a matter of fact, I do possess that number. Read it and weep, Pixel Woman.
  • Oh, no, you can't possibly ...
  • Oh. (SLIGHT PAUSE THEN IRRITATED) Well, I guess you're right.
  • You bet your palette, little 32 by 32 pixel mama.
  • Your virtual breath can get no mintier.
  • You virtually eat the nearly real mint. Your virtual breath is now virtually minty fresh.
  • Similiar to the mint bowl found on the desks of receptionists in those pre-super information highway days, a mint candy icon symbolically takes up valuable desktop space.
  • Either somebody sneezed in a major way or this constitutes the remains of someone in the virtual waiting room. Virtual death seems as real as the real thing.
  • That's a clock icon.
  • Ahh, that's the thing about cyberspace. We don't HAVE to let you close Windows! We control your picture.
  • That looks like the close box.
  • I wouldn't touch him if I were you.
  • Looks like a programmer just prior to shipping.
  • But he might fall apart. And the smell really isn't worth the cool visual, believe me!
  • It looks like some poor slob actually waited for his number to be called -- and died for his troubles.
  • Guess this guy never quite recovered from KQ7. He's getting a bit moldy.
  • A darling little fan icon decorates the accessories program group.
  • (SASSY) Just what do you think you're doing, Sir!
  • Well, I ... uhhh ... I didn't think you'd mind if I just looked through your files.
  • And I thought I'd seen it all. Just step back and wait your turn.
  • You may just have improved your chances of getting to the files with that slick little manuever. Sometimes you do surprise me, Roger.
  • Cool. That looks like the file place.
  • Everyone knows that's the File Manager.
  • Whatever. It still blows. Even a lowly pond-sucking janitor knows that.
  • I'm sure Win2001 will be better.
  • Well, you hold your breath and I'll hold what I want while waiting for it and we'll see whose ...
  • Cheese it. Someone is listening to us and I'm certain they didn't pay to hear this.
  • You're right. They'd probably like to hear more of me. I am the hero.
  • Get your head out. That's not a good thing to do.
  • What, you expect a help function for only $59.95?
  • Don't be lookin' for your father's Playboys in here, either!
  • This game's already as big and bold as it's gonna get.
  • Like that's gonna happen. Who do you think we are, Microsoft?
  • This feature won't be ready until Win2095 ships.
  • This feature couldn't muster enough congressional support to budget it.
  • I already have the right number.
  • Wow, isn't it cool the way the number card on the wall matches the number changer?!
  • Ohhhh. This must be one of those ... puzzles again.
  • I guess that's a good number. I prefer the numbers 6 and 9 myself.
  • Uh oh. Looks like it could be a long wait for you, too. The spirit of DMV lives on.
  • You have none.
  • The cyberprinter accepts your cyberfile gratefully, and begins to print. The question is, what exactly is the output of a cyberprinter?
  • Well, what do you know! Maybe there is something to this superhero reputation thing after all.
  • And after that episode with the eggbeater, I thought you'd never impress me again.
  • What do you know, an OoohLets PukeHard Fusion 500!
  • Although just a false front icon, it holds the promise of a tomorrow where true plug-and-play AM radio is no longer just a dream.
  • That's the refreshments folder.
  • You saw it here first -- a preview of the famed information superhighway!
  • Wow!
  • Wow! This makes my nipples hard.
  • Look, they even plan to have screen savers. A good idea for when those lines are all tied up. Who says they aren't thinking ahead?
  • You probably want us to say something corny like, "Klingons in sector 2-8, Captain!"
  • Don't touch her, she's cranky. Ring the bell.
  • That, boys and girls, is Sis Inny. She runs things around here like an iron maiden, with the firmness of titanium BVDs, with the control of a steel belt-reinforced brassiere.
  • Do you have a number, Sir? I can't help you unless you have a number.
  • Very funny, Sir. Please wait until YOUR number is called.
  • Next!
  • Numbered cybercards hang here, chiming peacefully in the cyberbreeze.
  • Cut! Wait a minute! What's is this "chiming in the cyberspace" crap? Scott, get over here! Change this.
  • What? Frikkn' director! This guy wouldn't know a good line if it climbed up his ... oh, here!
  • All right, that's better. Try it again, Gary.
  • Numbers hang here.
  • It's not pick-up day.
  • Very tidy. A trash can. That might be a perfect place to store all those vital "screen saving" programs. Like that cool Yassir Arafat version you downloaded from POL.
  • Pardon me, but I'm just a little nervous about this trashcan thing. Didn't someone already go to court and spend wads of buckazoids over this?
  • Gary, Gary, Gary! Just read the copy, for chrissakes! We're not paying you to think. We just want that pretty voice of yours. (UNDER BREATH) All right, ya' frigg'n union geek.
  • Okay, people. Mr. Owens has gathered himself together and we are ready to pick it up from that oh so fascinating Barney Fife-meets-Perry Mason segue. All right. Animation to speed ...
  • ... and roll!
  • This is the magic window whence you came.

580.msgEdit

  • Now there's a good expenditure of time.
  • The ceiling has all the accoutrements any self-respecting ceiling should have. To be honest, it's not quite what you imagined when you thought of superhighway.
  • Yeah, good idea! You could climb to the top! And then, when you get to the ceiling, you could ...
  • ... slide back down and try to do something useful.
  • An aluminite column. It's very warehousey.
  • You stroke the sign but, despite your generous ministrations, it is unaffected.
  • Do I really have to tell you what that is?
  • Massive file cabinets stretch off into the distance. This should be a cinch.
  • Nothing's burning. What's wrong with you?
  • A darn capable fire extinguisher stands ready to save all this paper in the event of a fire. They've spared no expense.
  • You give it a brief thought but you realize you've felt plenty of floors in your career and one more isn't gonna pitch your tent.
  • This floor looks pretty clean -- at least by your standards.
  • No good. All the WD-40 and LZ gel in the galaxy aren't gonna budge this corroded hunk of useless hardware.
  • Oh, that doesn't look good. Apparently the ladder hasn't been relocated in some time.
  • You seem quite interested in the simplest forms of illumination. This is an old style of incandescent illumination. It was deemed inefficient because of the large quantity of by-product heat it generates, but you know government contracts. They probably have enough of these to last longer than William Shatner's first chest toupee.
  • What a nice touch! Cyberlights which need replacing, just like the real ones. They sure do think of everything in here, don't they?
  • Yeah, you need more junk!
  • There are some useless papers strewn about the floor. This is inexcusable -- especially since it's not YOUR floor to clean up.
  • You do enough of that in your off time.
  • Cooling pipes are seen strewn throughout the game to cool these hot graphics.
  • Oh, great. Nice automated filing system!
  • Sorry, but we don't have enough for everyone.
  • Each sign denotes the range of alphabetized files in that row.

590.msgEdit

  • That file apparently doesn't want to open.
  • (crackly) Now, now, now (PATRONIZING)... what have we here? You haven't found the clue to this file's existence, yet somehow you know ... Perhaps subtracting a few hundred points from your score will teach you!
  • Nyah! Nyah! Nyah! Cheaters never prosper!
  • THAT drawer isn't even CLOSE to a drawer that starts with the letter R.
  • Man, these filing cabinets are a mess. Even I could keep them up better than this.
  • Product Liability
  • Project: Immortality*4
  • Prokofiev
  • Prometheus
  • Pronghorn
  • Propaganda
  • Propeller-Heads
  • Prostate
  • Behan, Brendan
  • Behavioral Sciences
  • Beiderbecke, Bix
  • Beirut, Lebanon
  • Belasco, David
  • Beleauxs, Dr. H.*1
  • Belinsky, Vissarion
  • Bellamy, Ralph
  • Rancid, Nigel*3
  • Rand, Ayn
  • Randolph-Macon W.C.
  • Rankin, Jeanette
  • Raspberries
  • Rasputin, Grigori
  • Rats
  • Rattlesnakes
  • San Francisco
  • Sanger, Margaret
  • Sans-Culottes
  • Sans Souci
  • Santa Claus
  • Santayana, George
  • Santiago, Chile
  • Santiago, Stellar*2
  • Sharif, Omar
  • Sharpei*5
  • Shaw, Irwin
  • Sheen, Charlie
  • Sheen, Martin
  • Sheep
  • Sherman, Allan
  • Sherman, William T.
  • Shetland Ponies
  • Space Medicine
  • Space Quest Team!**
  • Space Quest 7
  • Space Shuttle
  • Space Station
  • Space-Time
  • Spatial Coordination
  • Crud. I can't seem to reach it from here.
  • I don't see how I can walk up there.
  • As much fun as it is to see you plant your face on the granite floor, we advise against it. After all, you'll just have to clean up the blood afterwards.
  • General Drawer Failure. Please step off and try another approach.
  • You get the idea .... don't you?
  • That looks like a heckuva jump. Maybe I should get off these files first.
  • Here we are, enjoying a humorous, well-coded game with great art, and now we have to look in a friggin' file cabinet. Good thing you didn't know about this when you bought the game!
  • A
  • B
  • C
  • D
  • E
  • F
  • G
  • H
  • I
  • J
  • K
  • L
  • M
  • N
  • O
  • P
  • Q
  • R
  • S
  • T
  • U
  • V
  • W
  • X
  • Y
  • Z
  • Oh, great. Nice automated filing system.

600.msgEdit

  • You've arrived at the nose!
  • There are pores all over this area, but one looks to be a bit dome-shaped and somewhat transluscent.
  • It looks like it might be a zit on Stellar's nose.
  • I can't believe you make me say some of this. I'm a professional, darn it!

610.msgEdit

  • It's alveoli, but it reminds you of spaghetti.
  • You gently palpate the abdomen.
  • Hmmm ... tenderness, swelling. Could be the body's natural defenses responding normally to the injection of a large male sanitation engineer.
  • I ... I don't know WHAT that big round thing is. I'm a janitor, dammit, not a doctor!
  • Wow, that's some interesting-looking stuff you've got collected in the engine intake. Looks like a small collection of blood capillaries.
  • Judging by the spongy, sticky surface and the rippled, undulating muscle churning underneath, you deduce that you're standing on a stomach.
  • But you're not 100% certain. It's just a gut feeling.
  • You're treading on the fundus, a broad expanse of tissue covering the outside of the stomach.
  • For some reason, doing so gives you the feeling of being a one-man army.
  • After all, an army DOES travel on its stomach.
  • Quit boinking the fuel tank light.
  • The light's friendly green glow tells you that all is right with Fuel Tank 1.
  • "If it ain't broke, don't screw with it," a wise old game designer was once quoted as saying.
  • For a moment, you're stymied by the thought, "What's the proper name for this flap over the fuel tank?" The thought suddenly evaporates as your mind wanders aimlessly, finally gravitating towards its favorite subject, "self-survival." To your relief, the first fuel hatch is being properly sealed.
  • The nonthreatening and physiologically calmative green glow emanating from the Fuel Tank 2 status light gives you a warm fuzzy feeling. This tank is full and functioning properly.
  • The light's green. No problem there.
  • Despite the way you used the Braille system of intravenous shuttlecraft navigation, the second fuel tank is properly sealed.
  • The reassuring green indicates, "Yes! I am ready to rock and roll!"
  • Red light. Hmmmm, this is not good. Apparently some or all of the intermix element in Fuel Tank 3 was disgorged during your heinous veinous joyride.
  • (That's not all that was disgorged, but we'll skip the details.)
  • Good boy! Now leave the pretty shuttle tanks alone. They're all happy now.
  • The third fuel tank is as closed as it can get, considering the damage you've done to it.
  • Doi!!!
  • She's filled up with what passes for silver in these here parts, and she's sealed up and ready to go.
  • Thanks to your sophisticated futuristic garbage picking, this tank is full and sealed.
  • She's all topped off.
  • You suppress the urge to check the oil, wash the windshield, empty the ashtrays and shake out the mats.
  • Uh-oh. This tank's cover must've come open during Mr. Wilco's Wild Ride.
  • The stomach curves away too sharply for you to reach over and touch Stellar's diaphragm, but you can be reasonably certain it's damp, slick, fleshy and gelatinous.
  • Yummy!
  • You didn't quite make it all the way to the stomach, having ripped a brand-new shortcut through the greater mesenteric artery just off the aorta. Now you're parked on top of the stomach, and around you looms the heavily-veined diaphragmatic musculature of the abdomen.
  • Holy moley! That was a mouthful!
  • Actually, I do have a vague recollection of some junk they made us study in school. Something having to do with the body. Anatomology or something like that. I think it was required.
  • Heh. Now that I think of it, It was pretty funny. (SLIGHT PAUSE) At least I think it was. I remember how the class laughed and laughed. (LONG PAUSE) Anyway, where was I?
  • Funny. I still remember that the teacher made me feel real special about being in that class. He said something like, "What an interesting challenge you are. How am I going to fit one liter of knowledge into a half-liter head?"
  • We hope you're taking notes, because there's going to be a short quiz at the end of the game.
  • You're treading on the fundus, a broad expanse of tissue covering the outside of the stomach.
  • (LOUDLY, BUT HALF TO HIMSELF) OK, I've changed my mind about doing this.
  • Is it too late? Can I still back out gracefully?
  • But as soon as the words spring, gazelle-like, from your lips, you regret them. You're here to do a job. You're here to save Corpsman Stellar Santiago from a fate worse than death. (As if having you inside her wouldn't already be considered such a thing.)
  • That's right! I'm Roger Wilco, dammit! Man of action! Savior of the galaxy! A man trapped in the body of a woman!
  • Wait, that didn't come out right.
  • The walls of the broken blood vessel feel like the heavy-gauge rubber of a coolant hose.
  • In fact, the body resembles a car in many respects. It needs fuel to run and converts that fuel into energy. Our digestive system is like a fuel tank and our nostrils act like a catalytic converter!
  • Oh, that looks real nice.
  • (JUST OPEN THE DOOR AND GO IN)
  • That little thing? That's the stolen, miniaturized door to your stolen, miniaturized shuttle.
  • Good eyesight! Now we'll have to do one of those puzzles where you have to find a one-pixel coin or something.
  • But hey, who'd design a mean, unfair puzzle like THAT?
  • This heat tile looks loose.
  • (SOUND EFFECT AS NOTED IN COMMENT BELOW)
  • Whoops, I have to stop doing that.
  • Your stolen, miniaturized shuttle has become mired on the fundus of the stomach like a beached whale.
  • Although the concept of rubbing silver particles all over the shuttle is interesting, perhaps putting it in the fuel tank behind the blinking red light would be more effective.
  • You recognize that festering, infected crevice! As if Stellar didn't already have enough to worry about, she's got an ulcer! And it's not JUST an ulcer, it's puckered. It's a peptic ulcer!

620.msgEdit

  • That's not really recommended. You're outfitted for the vacuum of outer space, not the inner acids of Stellar Santiago.
  • As do most computer game characters who find themselves in sequels of sequels, you stop the action to reflect on your past exploits. You realize you've spent a lot of time looking at the contents of your OWN stomach, but this is the first time you've gotten such a good look at a pool of someone ELSE'S potential discharge.
  • The pools are deceptively still and shallow. They look harmless, but they're seething with pepsin and hydrochloric acid ... a chemical brew of protein-dissolving, bacteria-destroying glop strong enough to dissolve almost anything, especially organic life forms like yourself.
  • (SHOW ANIMATION OF THE ACID POOL RISING JUST SHORT OF THE NANITES THEN RECEDING.) Interesting. The acid rises, but just not quite high enough to submerse those nanites.
  • Cool! The acid rose to dissolve that twinkoid, and took out the nanites at the same time! They're down the digestive tract, partially or wholly dissolved by now.
  • I've got to admit, it's interesting the way you manage to accomplish some things.
  • I mean, I thought this gig was up sequels ago.
  • Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence.
  • No, really, I thought you'd bite the big one games ago. Even cost me a few buckazoids down at the Game Narrator's Guild.
  • OKAY! I heard you!
  • You know, there are other narrators who wouldn't mind hooking up with this series.
  • Touchy, huh? Anyway, I've got a contract. If I were you I'd get back to playing Joe Space Hero so both our checks will cash.
  • Nice shot!
  • The uppermost portion of the stomach gathers together here in a purplish, puckered, flesh-draped sphincter-like drainage outlet.
  • That reminds me. I hafta get one of those inflatable doughnut things if I'm going to keep driving this shuttle. My 'rhoids are flaring up again.
  • Once the gastric juices partially digest the stomach's contents into a semifluid mass called "chyme" (PRONOUNCED "KIME" TO RHYME WITH "SLIME"), the clumps of slurry trickle into this drainage hole. It leads to the duodenum (PRONOUNCED "DEW-ODD-ANUM"), the beginning of the small intestine. The duodenum also happens to be one darn fine organ.
  • Now, let's see. Although we could let you do a macho Tarzan swing, fall down and make a complete fool of yourself, we would advise you to go back down and climb up the old way.
  • Good lord! It's an esophagus, just like the one I saw dangling from somebody's head in MORE DULL KOMBAT II! Except that one was just in a video game, and this one is REAL!
  • (TAKES IT)
  • A feather? When ... rather, if, you get the chance, you'll have to quiz Stellar about her dietary habits.
  • You acquire a candy. (CAN TAKE ALL OF THEM ONE AT A TIME. SEE ART)
  • I already have one.
  • Dang, these look tasty. Boy, that microprozac she inhaled slowed her systems down to a crawl. These things haven't been touched by stomach acid yet.
  • Go on over there and check 'em out if you want.
  • A cluster of stomach acid-shy nanites is lurking near the entrance to the duodenum.
  • They know all the cool places to hang out.
  • An interesting idea. What are you up to, Roger?
  • It's one of those tiny timed-release pills.
  • There's just this one thing. Those little robots are the nanites sent down to aid in taking over Stellar's body. They look like guard nanites.
  • But then, for all you know they could be ballerina nanites.
  • (TAKES IT)
  • How odd. A bent staple. And thus far it has resisted being dissolved by the stomach's acids, probably because of its location and Stellar's apparent lack of oral nourishment during her captivity.
  • The acid probably hasn't risen high enough since this item found its way in here. What in the hell was she doing eating a staple, anyway? Maybe it was some fad diet thing in the "Galactic Enquirer."
  • You give it a tug but it resists, so you resort to actually putting some real effort into it and voila! It is now yours. Enjoy.
  • Hmmm. Loosely woven into the stomach lining is a piece of celery string. That stuff could be used to make steel-belted radial tires stronger. Rumor has it that it was the original inspiration for dental floss. I think I saw that on one of those James Burke shows.
  • This gaping wound is the result of gastric juices eating away at the lining of the stomach, which can happen as a result of excess stomach acid, reduced formation of the mucus which typically lines the stomach's inner wall, or other irritants.
  • But this ulcer is special. Most ulcers aren't big enough to allow janitors to crawl through.
  • You'll have to remember to tell her about it -- if you're real lucky and actually survive.
  • The inside of Stellar's tummy is slippery, mostly because of the mucus secreted by the stomach lining, and there are a few pock marks here and there, but when push comes to shove, this is the most beautiful stomach you've ever been in.

640.msgEdit

  • Stellar is being kept alive by machine now, but she's going to need everything she has -- as intact as possible -- should your mission prove successful.
  • I know I'm not holding MY breath.
  • Those appear to be the aorta and the vena cava. Who knew this was going to be so much fun?
  • At least, I think that's what they are. I've never been much of an artery man, myself.
  • You may think that's a very funny thing to do, but remember that you have to save Stellar's life. You aren't here to play touch-and-giggle with her innards.
  • That's the epiglottis. It's sort of a traffic manager for the lungs and stomach.
  • This is no time for chamber music. We have adventuring to do.
  • I don't know why, but the larynx has always given me the creeps!
  • There's something stuck in between two of the chords.
  • This is another one of those cutaway views. There's nothing you can do to that from in here.
  • Check out the lungs on this girl. You don't get an opportunity like this everyday.
  • You now own one of those tiny timed-release pills.
  • It's one of those tiny timed-release pills. As I recall, these are designed to not melt down and release their medicines until they've gotten to an area past the stomach.
  • What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen an esophagus before?
  • This is the lower part of the esophagus. Just below this is the stomach.
  • This is the upper part of the esophagus. The larynx branches off from here, winding its way down to the bronchi and the lungs. Looking above, you see some sort of medical equipment blocking the way to the mouth. Looks like that's not an option for an escape route.
  • These are the trachea and bronchi. That's where the lungs hook in.
  • Good idea. Unfortunately, that doesn't work. You don't have the weight to unwedge that chunk of empty calories.
  • A large hunk of twinkoid cakefood product is hanging just below her epiglottis. It appears to have gotten jammed on the way to her stomach for digestion.
  • Doesn't this woman chew?

650.msgEdit

  • Oh, yeah, let's git us a feel o' that. All kinds of interesting foods and body squeezings have made their way through this narrow opening. Who wouldn't want to touch it?
  • That's the pyloris. That muscle has the final say over who makes it out of the stomach and into the duodenum.
  • Yeah, good idea. You don't have quite enough slime, mucus, phlegm, and bile on you already.
  • This is the upper area of the duodenum. Matter preprocessed from the stomach enters here through the pyloris above. It has a lovely bile-colored decor, and for a very good reason: this is the area in which raw processed ingestibles are mixed with a variety of secretions for further breakdown.
  • There's nothing to touch there from this area.
  • On the other side of that opening is Stellar's stomach.
  • It's not Tarzan time.
  • That's just some of the interesting flora of the digestive system.

660.msgEdit

  • This looks like the center section of the duodenum. It has that same lovely bile-green brilliance.
  • Although tempted to pluck it like a harp string, you wisely decide for Stellar's sake to not mess with anything you don't have to (or want to, for that matter).
  • Ah, the mucosa are so lovely this time of year.
  • Wow, this is a tight fit. I think things are supposed to go out, not in.
  • Ah, the old Ampulla of Vater surrounded by the sphincter of Oddi. Didn't you always wonder what it looked like? The bile slick seems to be a little fresher there.

666.msgEdit

  • Restore
  • Try Again
  • Couldn't you just die ... horribly?
  • Come into the light, Carol Ann!
  • Wow, he really creased your can! Pretty impressive -- (PAUSE) maybe not from your point of view, of course.
  • I'm not going to say he told you so, but he did.
  • Ahh, the Laws of Cartoon Thermodynamics. Boy, that had to feel interesting -- for a split-second, at least.
  • Smooth move, ex-lax. Guess this cyberspace thing can be pretty painful -- and I'm not just talking about the rates.
  • Well, it could've been worse. He did come from the groin region, after all! Ouch!
  • And you thought the fumes from lactose intolerance were bad!
  • Roger, Roger, Roger. What're we gonna do with you?
  • So that's how you're gonna play it, huh?
  • Perhaps you would have preferred to learn what the word "churlish" meant in a more conventional manner?
  • Being a good samaritan is one thing, but you should've been just a little skeptical about that move.
  • EVA suits weren't designed just as a fashion statement, Roger.
  • I'm sure you must've known better than to do that. We'd like to think you did that just to see how cool it looked.
  • I'm sure he's most grateful that you supplied him with his Recommended Daily Requirement of carbon-based nutrition.
  • So close and yet so far away. How embarrassing to get wasted by the Laurel and Hardy of nanites.
  • Pretty embarrassing getting wasted by an old lady, tentacles or not! You'd better hope no one saw that.
  • My goodness, those little guys are efficient! However, based on how they left your boots behind, you might consider some Odor Eaters.
  • That's pretty far to go just to do your Wizard of Oz impression. Makes you feel tingly all over, doesn't it?
  • I'll bet Magnum kicks some serious butt playing marbles!
  • Cool, a chance to check out your own digestive tract!
  • Toss in some Entrail Helper and I think we've got a nice potential feast here.
  • You've got to respect this guy. At least when he kills, he uses all the parts. Unfortunately, they're ... Oh well, that's life, er, I mean, that's death.
  • Don't you just hate it when that happens?
  • Since you've entered the tapeworm not partially digested, you'll probably give him heartburn. I hope you're proud of yourself.
  • You pick strange methods of getting a charge out of life.
  • Oh great! Like that's going to help Stellar. You're so selfish!
  • And you were so close, too.
  • Dead Again, eh?
  • Common sense? What's that?

670.msgEdit

  • This is the place where the duodenum meets the small intestine. The mixture of food, acids, bile, and enzymes move on from here and pass over the villi, where nutrients are absorbed into the bloodstream.
  • It's a fascinating place, wouldn't you say?
  • This is the very bottom of our old friend, the duodenum. You can see the beginning of the jejunum. The villi start here. They increase the surface area of the small intestine a great deal, giving more area to absorb nutrients.
  • All in all, it just looks like a french tickler turned inside-out to me.
  • A what?
  • Never mind. It's not important.
  • Please remember to keep your arms and legs on the worm at all times.
  • That has no effect. At least it appears that way.
  • Well, now that DID have an effect. Not probably what you had hoped for, however.
  • It's a tapeworm. He seems to be lazily grazing in the valley of the villi.
  • Great scott!!! That certainly is one buff parasite.
  • I think I'm gonna spew. But who'll notice? Man, that thing's ugly.
  • The tapeworm is a little wired, thanks to you. He looks like he has plenty of energy.
  • Hmmm. Impressive. The tapeworm suddenly becomes much more animated!

680.msgEdit

  • You can't pass through with the alveoli in the way.
  • (TO HIMSELF) Yeow. This is way too snug. This blockage needs to be cleared. Stellar's going to have to change her diet.
  • That is, if she can face life after having you inside her.
  • Don't take it back out. It's all fine where it is.
  • The alveoli are well placed in the blockage.
  • As logical as that seems, it isn't the answer to any of your questions.
  • This is the main pancreatic duct. It appears that there's some blockage toward the tail of the pancreas. It definitely gets a bit snug. Seems to be a build-up of cholesterol arterial plaque.

690.msgEdit

  • No. You should have thought about washing your hands a long time ago.
  • You've got plenty of that stuff, or did you want to take some home to Mom?
  • You maneuver your helmet beneath the drip and manage to snag a nice little dollop of the stuff.
  • Drops of pancreatic enzymes drip from the overhanging cell units.
  • Naw, you really, really don't want to suck on those!
  • Your hands won't hold much of that.
  • A nice pool of pancreatic secretions made up of insulin and glucagon fill the bottom of the islands of Langerhans.
  • And here we have the islands of Langerhans. They're a big deal here in the pancreas.
  • Apparently, they play an important part in introducing hormones to the blood system as well as adding an enzyme which, when joined with the bile secretion from the gall bladder, form some kind of spew that breaks down stuff the stomach acids don't -- fats and that kind of thing.
  • Not only that, but some cells release insulin and others release glucagon to counter the insulin. It even offers up a bicarbonate to counteract the stomach's acid. All in all, it's a pretty strange and busy organ.
  • It just looks like a uvula warehouse to me.
  • Despite the overwhelming urge to play Rocky with these cute little dangly things, you are wise enough to realize that you must inflict as little damage as possible to Stellar's interior.
  • Your helmet wouldn't fit on the islet.
  • These little islets drip a pancreatic enzyme. This is later mixed with some stuff from the gallbladder to make that wonderful green bile antifreeze-looking stuff that humanoid hurlers the universe over have come to know and hate.

700.msgEdit

  • You can't actually do that. This is a cutaway view.
  • No tour of the duodenum would be complete without this unique outside view.
  • Check out the cool membrane.
  • Please keep your arms and legs inside the duct at all times. Thank you.
  • That's the top part of the head of Stellar's pancreas. An odd feeling passes through you just being amongst Stellar's organs.
  • That sounds like a good idea but it won't help here.
  • Welcome to the heart of the bile belt. This is indeed spew central. At this location, secretions from the liver, gall bladder and pancreas merge to form a duodenal delight guaranteed to break down almost anything the stomach doesn't. The common bile duct runs up from here.
  • This is the cystic duct. You are quite near where the gall bladder becomes part of the bile parade.
  • You don't need any more stones -- at least not that kind!
  • Nice gallstone collection.
  • That wouldn't be wise. Those suckers could fall and smash you flat.
  • A large gallstone hangs above the entrance to the gall bladder.
  • You can't change its location, alter its position or affect its current velocity.
  • Not only that, it won't budge.
  • The gallstone is wedged in the bile duct, and that's just a fine place for it.

720.msgEdit

  • You already have plenty of that -- or did you want to take some back to Mom?
  • There's just no telling what interesting nuggets are going to roll from that orb comfortably containing your version of a brain. All of a sudden you're Mr. Anatomy. Go figure. Well, good luck. Unfortunately, we're stuck with you to get us out of this.
  • I'm feeling a bit queasy. Is that my life I see flashing before my eyes?
  • Drips of bile collect in the gall bladder.
  • If you're feeling froggy, swim on over there.
  • Actually, that's a bad idea. You ARE in Stellar's body and should leave as much untouched and unbruised as possible. She's got enough working against her presently.
  • Naw, that's not a good idea.
  • If I'm not mistaken -- and I seldom am -- that's the mucosa, or inner lining of the gall bladder. It helps make the bile even more vile by absorbing spare water content.
  • You chuck one of the taped capillaries over the muscular ledge. It drops into the pool.
  • You have no need to touch the bile.
  • Wow, check out all that bile. Looks like her liver's been doing just fine. That's a pool of bile any liver would be proud of. You sure can't speak highly of its aroma.
  • You give the pump a stroke or two, and in the process gather a nice helmet-load of bile. I guess congratulations are in order.
  • Now, if you just had something to collect the bile in, you'd be all set.
  • It's the same pump you've been carrying around. Now it just happens to be attached to a bunch of duct-taped segments of capillaries.
  • Here before you in all its magnificence is the gall bladder. Wasn't this worth the trip?

730.msgEdit

  • YEOW! Now that's a ride you won't take in the Magic Kingdom.
  • Here's a tip: don't mess with your colon. You'll be glad you didn't.
  • That's the beginning of the large intestine, or the colon as some call it. I believe this would be the cecum.
  • Egads, Man, just how low have we sunk?
  • All the way to the junction of the large and small intestines, that's how low. This also happens to be the home of the appendix.
  • That's the bottom portion of the small intestine, or ileum.
  • So you like the worm, huh?
  • You like to ride the worm, huh?
  • I let you ride the worm.
  • That's your vermiform friend who, with a little help from organic and pharmaceutical resources, was kind enough to give you that ride along the approximately six and a half meters or so of small intestine that lies between here and the duodenum.
  • It's not very conversant. Few cestodes are. This one's a dwarf.
  • Hopefully, life's path will not lead you to meet any other kind.

735.msgEdit

  • You can't budge it.
  • Talk about hard currency. The buckazoid has proven itself once again. This is even one of the old style ones. Might be worth some money. Too bad you can't carry it.
  • You carefully -- VERY carefully -- stow the paper clip in your pocket.
  • It's a relatively unscathed paper clip.
  • Here's a tip: don't mess with your colon. You'll be glad you didn't.
  • The lower part of the colon, called the cecum, goes on from here. It joins up with the rest of that final piece during the digestive process.
  • No, I think I've already done things above and beyond the call of duty. Hey, a guy has to draw the line somewhere, and gosh darn it, this guy's drawing the line right at the ... right at, er ... at, at the colon.
  • You've never even met her mother.
  • Yeah.
  • You pull away a cracked piece of the filling.
  • You've got as much of that as you can carry.
  • It looks like an old silver amalgam filling. Must have been bouncing around here for years.
  • You snap off a shard of fingernail and gingerly introduce it into your pocket.
  • It's a fingernail, complete with paint. These have a knack for making it down here.
  • Suddenly you wonder when Stellar grew such long nails. Perhaps you haven't been thinking of Stellar as a woman as much as a crewmate. You feel an interesting longing.
  • One look at your surroundings kills that feeling fast. But maybe after this is all over ...
  • This is the appendix. It's a strange piece of the humanoid anatomy considered by some medical types to be fairly useless.
  • It may not be useful, but it does seem to collect some strange stuff.
  • How does she get this stuff into her digestive system? That's a screw Stellar probably doesn't remember.
  • No sense in it. You couldn't feel its magnificent texture through the gloves. Smelling it should be more than adequate for a sensory experience.
  • This seems to be a sludge of rather heavy and not-so-digestible items.
  • Sludge. Reminds you of your old nemesis. Well, you finished him off, but he still causes you to change your clothing more than the average person.

740.msgEdit

  • Ooooooff!
  • It's pretty tough; it manages to resist your manly efforts.
  • This is the meninges. It's a three-layer cover for the brain. Check out the cool blood vessels.
  • You slice away with the nail and, amazingly enough, manage to cut a slice in the barrier!
  • Tattered remnants of your incursion into the brain mark the spot you entered through.
  • Come on. By now you should know to take it easy on the merchandise.
  • It's the old grey matter itself: our friend, the brain. (At least some of us are familiar with it. I don't remember seeing you at the meetings.)
  • For some reason, you're drawing a complete blank on information regarding the brain.
  • Don't be lame. I know it doesn't come naturally, but give it a go anyway.
  • There's a post with some buttons on it.
  • It's an elevator built by the nanites to help gain access to the interior of the brain. Yuck!
  • You attempt to shinny on down through the hole.
  • Geez, this feels weird. It's one time I'm absolutely certain I know I'm on Stellar's mind.
  • It's big enough. You don't want to cut more than you need to.
  • Nice mood lighting!
  • Yikes, how am I supposed to jump across this one?
  • Man, that was close!
  • A mine shaft has been built by the nanites for access to the inner sanctuary of Stellar's brain.
  • That was quite effective! That was very impressive, Roger. I'll bet that's not something you hear every decade.
  • Why, it appears they're going to rumble. Very clever of you.
  • Walk on up there if you want to touch them.
  • You chuck a gallstone at one of the robots -- causing it to think the other one did it.
  • You chuck another gallstone -- this time at the other robot who also thinks the other one did it.
  • I don't think I can hit them from here.
  • Those nanites are still there, and they look real pissy.
  • Nanites are there and they look real pissy.
  • The self-deactivated nanites now pose no threat.
  • Holy Captain's Log, Batman! There are a few more of those nanites here. How am I gonna handle this one?
  • Ah, you've made it to the meninges! It's a tough three-part covering of the brain inside the skull. It's built like a tire in three layers -- one of which is tough like a steel-belted radial.
  • It's right where you left it.

750.msgEdit

  • I'd better never, ever touch that while I'm in here.
  • This button takes you down.
  • This button stops.
  • This button takes you up.
  • Oh, this is her "choice of men" center. It looks a little odd.
  • This is the elevator control panel.
  • Interesting. The sign says this is Stellar's cough control center.
  • No,I'd better not mess with that. I've got to go easy on Stellar if I expect her to be able to survive.
  • So this is the motor control center.
  • No, I'd better not. It would get too violent in here.
  • This sign says this is her "pleasure" center. Hmmmm.
  • It's a recently constructed shaft between the hemispheres of Stellar's brain!

760.msgEdit

  • It's no use. None of these actions is going to aid in moving this huge pile of brains and debris.
  • That's the elevator you rode down from the surface of her brain.
  • It's too small for you to even fit your head in. (Bet you've never heard that before.)
  • It won't help for you to start chucking your possessions into the opening.
  • A small opening between the brain wall and the debris pile allows a small amount of light to escape.
  • Your effort to move it is futile. This would be a challenge for you even if you were full-sized.
  • That's not necessary anymore. There's nothing in the pile which would be of value to you.
  • That's not helpful in moving the pile.
  • A huge pile of debris is standing in front of what appears to be some sort of passage. Light pours through the opening.
  • The pile has shifted away from the opening.
  • This is strange-looking. Used pieces of nanite hardware as well as some stuff that looks vaguely like mining equipment litter the area.
  • Used hardware still litters the area -- but it appears that the large pile of debris has shifted away from the opening you could barely see through before.

770.msgEdit

  • Wow! Talk about brain dead. That thing was most gruesome!
  • Fish! That's brain food!
  • (MOANING IN AGONY AS SHE DIES) Ahhhhhhhh!
  • All right! She actually chowed down on that rancid fish!
  • Well, that ought to give her some gastric distress.
  • I thought I'd never get rid of that fish.
  • Ahhhh! (SOUND OF BEING SQUEEZED TIGHTLY BY A TENTACLE)
  • Hey, watch those tentacles, Lady! And I thought that being partially embedded in the street on Polysorbate was a strange feeling.
  • Oooofff!! (SOUNDS THAT WOULD BE GENERATED DURING A TUMBLE)
  • Owww!!! Even in this suit, that hurts like a ... (REALIZATION) Geez. What's going on here and what's with that big robot?!
  • Well, well, Mr. Wilco. I must confess to being impressed that you made it this far. You are either a very lucky man or the classic case of how looks can be deceiving.
  • From what I know of your history I can't say that, in this case, looks are necessarily deceiving. On the other hand, I don't think luck accounts for it all either. There's definitely something different about you, Mr. Wilco. It's a pity though. I'm afraid this is where the odds catch up with you, Roger.
  • I do hope you don't mind me referring to you as Roger. I feel we can both be on a first name basis now since we will soon be sharing such intimate moments -- my rebirth and your death -- not necessarily in that order.
  • I'll attend to you in a moment. I have a few more little details to finish before I transfer my consciousness into this body. Enjoy it, Roger. It'll be among the very last of your memories.
  • Oh, and by the way, escape attempts will prove to be futile. You will be incinerated, if necessary.
  • (TO HIMSELF) Geez, what a bit ...(INTERRUTED BY SHARPEI)
  • I'm sorry, what was that you were saying?!
  • Me? Uh, I was, uh, I was saying, uh, "What a bite." Yeah, I had a little trouble with some parasites a while ago down in the digestive tract. That's all it was.
  • Yeow! Guess she wasn't kidding about escape being a futile thing!
  • Hey! You could hurt me doing that!
  • A conveyer moves freshly dug brain cells to the top of the pile.
  • It's a piece of mining equipment! She's been digging around in the cortex.
  • Hmmmm. That's quite a drill! (Hopefully you're not having any feelings of inadequacy.)
  • Hmmm, I've got this bundle of nerves. I wonder what I can use to make this into something?
  • It looks like a bundle of nerves with electrical current through them.
  • It's a lovely pile of brain matter.
  • The robot's head swivels constantly to keep an electronic eye on you.
  • It's the robot Sharpei is using -- just as Dr. Beleauxs told you about!
  • Wow! That was actually a great idea! Go figure.
  • Yeah, I kicked her butt. Just look at me. MacGyver wishes he could be me.
  • (GETTING COCKY) It was bound to happen. The never-ending battle between good and evil was once again waged. And once again good has emerged victorious.
  • Yes, and with me on its side, how could it lose?
  • Yes, once again I have struck a blow for good over evil. It was ineviii ... (SHARPEI LIFTS HIM WITH A TENTACLE)
  • Ahhh! What? But I thought I took care of you!
  • Well, it appears you thought wrong, now doesn't it, Roger?
  • (SHE SNAGS ROGER WITH HER TENTACLES) Oooooff!!!
  • Welcome to the cerebral cortex. It looks like someone's been mining brain matter.
  • My, she has a different look now. I don't know which I like better!
  • Wilco! I haven't survived this long without taking precautions. The robot was just hardware. My mind still exists.
  • Oh, real wonderful.
  • It looks like that shovel's been busy.
  • The sight of the claws mounted on the turret make you wish you were wearing a Depends undergarment.

800.msgEdit

  • The access panels are all tightly sealed to keep people who don't know what they're doing away from the controls.
  • Yes, people like you!
  • These panels resist every attempt to get them to open.
  • This access panel contains the Food Replicator's Resonance Flux Shield.
  • Even with the pliers, you can't seem to disengage the access panel. Nice try, though!
  • Access panel, I command you to open!
  • Not surprisingly, the access panel doesn't open. But it does appear to glance your way, give you a "Who made you the boss?" look, then shrug and glance away with a superior attitude.
  • Or was that all in your mind?
  • This access panel contains the Food Replicator's Transwarp Field Stabilizer.
  • This access panel contains the Food Replicator's Quantum Inhibitor Conduit.
  • This access panel contains the Food Replicator's ...
  • ... um, the thing that keeps the ... uh ...
  • Well, it's got this lever with this other thing connected to it ...
  • Anyway, it keeps the Replicator from getting the ... um ...
  • Never mind.
  • It's a backspace key, so that you can change your mind before you enter a number into the Replicator.
  • It's also the key you use most frequently.
  • The keys are made for touching, not talking.
  • It sure doesn't feel punctured!
  • The plastosaran keyboard overlay is punctureproof and liquidproof.
  • Attempting to carry on a conversation with the plastosaran overlay is a sign of your continuing slide into serious mental illness.
  • You place a finger in the hole and wiggle it about. Nice shot, only you were aiming for the keypad.
  • It doesn't seem to fit in the phaser hole.
  • Ah, yes, you remember this hole. You got ticked off because "the Sirian Goat Cheese on the Grilled Orat Salad tasted fakey" so you shot the Replicator with a phaser welder.
  • (That was back in your salad days.)
  • That little prong might fit in the hole, but it might fall into the wormhole, land in the Restaurant Universe, and ruin any chance you might've had to fix that ClapMaster™!
  • There's nobody in there to talk to.
  • It's a button with a number on it.
  • Button, button, who's got the button?
  • I crack me up.
  • Mmm, a jiggling, fragrant, lumpy mass of Bjorn Chow!
  • There's nothing else like it in the universe (thank goodness!).
  • Are you trying to talk to that mess?
  • It's a button.
  • You feel a sharp crunch under your fingertip.
  • What are you trying to do? Fingerpaint??
  • Oh, no! This game has BUGS in it!
  • It's a good thing this replicator doesn't work, 'cause you've just lost your appetite.
  • The roach doesn't need a clip.
  • Hey! Get the heck outta my kitchen, you cockaroach!
  • This is the Enter button, also known as the Return key. It is the button you press to indicate that you have concluded the process of entering alphanumeric information into the display from the console.
  • There, did we clear that up?
  • The pipe feels tepid and seems to vibrate just slightly. Whether that's from an influx of fresh Soylent or just the natural vibration of the ship, you're uncertain.
  • This is the Soylent Intake Shaft. It delivers freshly retreated Soylent to the replicator for those few foods which are actually manufactured from Soylent.
  • Hey! Anyone up there in the kitchen? Can you hear me?
  • That was fun.
  • You stick a finger into the vent and feel a cool, gentle draft.
  • Not unlike the one that seems to drift from your ears.
  • These vents prevent the odors of the food from spreading throughout the ship.
  • Which is a good thing, as you know if you've ever smelled Poached Seaslug in Orat Coulis.
  • Hello? Anyone in there?
  • Apparently not.
  • Ouch!
  • That was a bright idea.
  • The light releases photons that travel through the air, bounce off the surface of an object, shoot through the lenses of your eyes, and focus on your retinas to form an image. The brain interprets this image and attempts to form it into a cohesive pattern, which it then attempts to recognize through a complex memory matching process.
  • Some objects absorb certain light frequencies and reflect others. When a particular frequency is reflected from the surface of an object, we see that object as having a property which we call "color."
  • This explanation is referred to as "overkill."
  • Even you are not lamebrained enough to talk to a light.
  • Or so we thought, until now.
  • Don't try to get anything out of this machine. You'll only succeed in getting your fingers stuck to the replicator ... again!
  • Your food replicator is a nightmare of pooled sticky stuff, dried-on gunk, dents, dings, and roach droppings. In fact, the computer's self-survival circuitry cut in days ago and turned off service to your room.
  • Work, darn you! Replicate me something!
  • This button has a period on it.
  • Hmmm...something tells me you're thinking of the demo.
  • Demo?
  • Yeah, you remember. The demo that had more version numbers than the game.
  • Uhhh ... yeah. THAT demo.
  • You want this stuff? Maybe we should relegate the Roger Wilco character to demo-only status for the next game. You did have a brother, didn't you? Perhaps his IQ broke double digits.
  • I don't think I actually want that stuff.
  • Never mind.
  • Didn't your mother ever tell you to finish what you've got on your plate before taking more?
  • This is a "Mr. Soylent" Food Replicator. Most foods actually aren't replicated, they're sent through miniature wormholes from the Restaurant Universe, a parallel reality where everyone owns a restaurant.
  • But some foods aren't worth sending out for, so they're replicated from soylent -- a mixture of soybeans, lentils, flavorings, emulsifiers, binding and surfectant agents, and a secret special ingredient which we won't tell you about lest we shock you senseless with the mind-reeling revelation.
  • Replicate! I command thee!
  • You have no power here.
  • You shouldn't try to open this door by tugging on it. You'll strip the gears, just like you did to the replicator in your quarters.
  • This is the Replicator Hatch, a sliding door behind which is hidden the Vortex Resonance Coils and the Molecular Soylentization Generator.
  • Open up in there!
  • The pipe is slightly chilly.
  • This is the Effluvium Outtake Pipe, which shuttles waste and recyclable leftover soylent back to the Soylent Sludge Reprocessing Tanks on Deck Four.
  • Anyone down there in the Soylent Sludge Reprocessing Tanks? Can you hear me?
  • You leave a greasy smudge on the screen. One of these days you'll have to wash out that little screen cleaner pad you've been using for the past few months.
  • This is the screen used to display the numbers as you enter them.
  • The button has a star on it. It's supposed to be a "last food redial," but it never works correctly.

900.msgEdit

  • Oh, great! The datacorder seems to be fried!
  • You can't daisy-chain circuit plates. Nor do you need to.
  • There's already a plate in this socket. Please remove it before attempting to insert a new plate. Thank you SO much.
  • There seems to be something stopping the datacorder from transmitting.
  • It's not transmitting very well from here. Maybe I should try a different place.
  • Didn't that Sally Struthers learn-at-home course teach you not to stack components on top of each other?
  • That plate's chip socket is currently occupado! Please remove the first chip before attempting to insert the new one.
  • The power must be ON before you can reconfigure this unit.
  • You have successfully reconfigured the Datacorder™ for standard use.
  • The |c84|RECONFIGURE|c82| button will reset the internal chips, plates and IRKs to standard Datacorder™ setup. Use this button if you have rearranged the components and wish to restore them to their original positions.
  • This circuit board is not user-serviceable. You don't want to void the warranty, do you?
  • It's a circuit board. And a darn good one.
  • If you want to open it, you'll have to find the button.
  • This is the faceplate of the Datacorder™. During normal operation, the faceplate is closed. It should only be opened to repair, replace or reconfigure the internal components.
  • This is the Dentium chip.
  • This is the Dimtel chip.
  • Ahem. This button doesn't do squat unless the power is on.
  • This button scrolls the information on the Datacorder's™ LCD viewscreen in a downward fashion.
  • Does that look like a Divalium crystal chip to you? I don't think so.
  • You poke around looking for a spare crystal chip, but no dice.
  • (Interestingly, you find dice, but no crystal!)
  • This is the Feedback Cutter-Offer plate. Hence the clever "FC" label.
  • This is the Fermentium chip.
  • You carefully lift the Divalium chip out of the stasis circuit board. Hope you know what you're doing, Bucko! The Datacorder™ won't work without it!
  • This is the Datacorder™ power source: a tiny chip of Divalium crystal (the Offical Power Source of StarCon)!
  • Your skin is soft and supple.
  • NOT! Actually, it's sweaty and rubbery.
  • You notice your firm, muscular fingers ... the graceful bone structure ... the elegant blood blister under your thumb. These are a MAN's hands! Grrrrr!
  • They don't do anything when you touch 'em. They just light up.
  • This is the Datacorder's™ proximity display. If one light is on, the selected chemical compound (shown on the LCD screen) is present, but at an extremely low trace level. If two lights are on, the compound is within 100 meters. If all three lights are on and flashing, the compound is within 10 meters.
  • If no lights are on, either the Datacorder™ is not turned on, or there is no detectable trace of the compound.
  • You missed! Hah!
  • There you go again, staring off into space.
  • Don't open the Datacorder™ when it's switched on. Doing so could damage some of the delicate internal components.
  • Such as your central nervous system.
  • Put all the plates back before you close the faceplate.
  • Put all the chips back before closing the faceplate. Thank you.
  • This button opens and closes the datacorder's faceplate.
  • You should close the faceplate before turning the power on.
  • Sorry, Bucko, the Datacorder™ won't work now that you've removed the power source. You'll have to put the Divalium crystal chip back.
  • This button turns the Datacorder™ on and off.
  • This is the Particle Shield plate. Hence the helpful "PS" appellation.
  • This is the Repentium Chip.
  • This is the Recalibrating Fluctuator plate. Hence the always-lovely "RF" tag.
  • It has no effect here.
  • It's your modified datacorder.
  • This is your highly sensitive Datacorder™. Its primary use is to scan for and indicate proximity to any chemical compound.
  • It has other possible uses as well, but that requires significant tinkering with the internal components.
  • This is the Subspace Emitter plate. Hence the handy "SE" abbreviation.
  • There's nothing in this Sensor Array socket.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "A". The interchangeable plates fit neatly into these sockets.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "B". The interchangeable plates fit precisely into these sockets.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "C". The interchangeable plates fit snugly into these sockets.
  • You clumsily try to wedge it into the empty socket, nearly breaking it. Smooth move.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "D". The interchangeable plates fit securely into these sockets.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "E". The interchangeable plates fit with utter sureness into these sockets.
  • This is the Spentium chip.
  • Captain! There be switches here!
  • These are IRK switches. Only one switch for each Sensor Array may be on at any time, and only one IRK switch of each number (1,3,5,7, and 9) may be on at any time.
  • This is the Tachyon Transmitter plate. Hence the awesome "TT" moniker.
  • This button scrolls the information on the Datacorder's™ LCD viewscreen in an upwardly-appearing fashion.
  • You try to mush the liquid crystals around a bit with your finger, shortening the lifespan of the unit. Nice going, Guy.
  • This is the Datacorder's™ LCD viewscreen. When powered up, the chemical compound being scanned for appears on this screen. When reconfigured for other modes, the name of the mode appears on this screen.
  • See how easy? And it really, really works!

950.msgEdit

  • Did you hear about the artist who killed himself? He couldn't draw his own breath.
  • buh bye 1
  • farewell
  • bye 3
  • credits
  • credits
  • As Roger and Stellar warp off into the nebulaset, many questions remain. Will Roger and Stellar become an item? How will Beatrice Wankmeister react when she hears about this new friend in Roger's life?
  • Will Roger's voice be a few octaves higher as a result? Would they dare to make another one of these things? Only time -- and money -- will tell.
  • Thank you for playing Space Quest 6. This is Gary Owens signing off.
  • Boy, Stellar, with all that's happened recently, I never would have imagined that we'd be standing here together.
  • It is a miracle, Roger. I was afraid that by the time you got my message it would be too late. I was certain I was doomed, but you didn't let me down.
  • What you did was incredibly brave, Roger, not to mention intensely risky. It took Dr. Beleauxs a lot of work to clean up after you and Sharpei.
  • I must say, Roger, there's not a man in the universe who knows me inside the way you do.
  • It was a strange feeling, but I went in there all business. There wasn't a moment I wasn't thinking of your welfare.
  • Oh, give me a break. Let me put my boots on. It's getting deep in here.
  • Cheese it, Pal, or I'll rip out your larynx and you won't be able to get a job doing bad voice-over work for Chinese action pictures!
  • What did you say, Roger?
  • Oh, uh, I was just mumbling to myself. You know, Stellar, there was one thing I noticed while inside you that I thought I might share.
  • And what's that, Roger?
  • You eat like a goat! You really have to change your eating habits, Stellar. I saw some things in your digestive tract that I wouldn't wish on Sludge Vohaul. You really have to clean up your consumption act.
  • Yes, I know, I know. Dr. Beleauxs said he was able to fix most everything done to me during Sharpei's invasion, as well as patching an ulcer that was playing havoc with my stomach. He told me the same things.
  • You might also try chewing. You had a hunk of a twinkoid wedged in your throat that would have gagged Linda Lovelace.
  • Okay, Roger, okay! I got the message. Let's change the subject, shall we? Ask me where I'm stationed next.
  • Why don't you just tell me.
  • Boy, some fun you are.
  • Sorry, I guess I'm a little grumpy. I had a real day. I had to clean the Captain's Log entry container. Then, somebody got a nice buzz in 8-Rear and decided to take a wormhole ride in the HoloSuite.
  • They hit a few wrong buttons and the next thing I know I'm cleaning Vergon Nebulasets and hors d'oeuvres off every wall and ceiling. Apparently, they truly did make the room spin. Boy, they spackled everything! Had to use a putty knife to chip loose some of the chunks of ... (INTERRUPTED BY STELLAR)
  • Uh, Roger? I'm sorry you had a rough day, but can we please change the subject?
  • Oh, sorry.
  • Anyway, I think you're going to like your next assignment.
  • Really? What is it? Where is it?
  • Sorry. You're just going to have to wait to find out.
  • My next assignment? What, more janitoring? What is it? How do you know?
  • I've been up to my lips in urinal pucks lately. I hope it's something different.

64990.msgEdit

  • Cancel
  • Change Directory
  • Delete
  • \1e
  • No
  • Cancel
  • OK
  • Replace
  • Restore
  • Save
  • \1d
  • Yes
  • Are you sure you want to

delete this saved game?

  • Restore a Game
  • Save a Game
  •  %s

is not a valid directory.

  • This directory/disk can hold no more saved games. You must replace one of your saved games or use Change Directory to save on a different directory/disk.
  • New save-game directory:
  • Replace
  • with:
  • You must type a description for the game.
  • Select the game that you would like to restore.
  • Type the description of this saved game.

64994.msgEdit

  • Cancel
  • An error occurred while attempting to read the save game catalog file. The saved games in this directory are no longer usable.
  • Change Directory
  • GAME
  • Insert the %s disk in drive %s.
  •  %s

is not a valid directory.

  • Message not found.
  • OK
  • SAVE GAME
  • An error occurred while attempting to save your game. Try saving to another directory or saving over an existing saved game.
  • That game was saved under a different game or interpreter version. It cannot be restored.

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