Wednesday, June 30

finding skip, by means of (fluid) elimination

as you know, my little robot friend skip, whom i love dearly and would never, ever, evereverneverever wish anything bad to happen to, has had something bad happen to him. this is a problem... for one, i have a lot more fucking work to do around hangar 23... for two, flapjack doesn't stop crying... for three, i miss him and for four, nobody steals from me and gets away with it...

the mood around our little gang of strays has been maudlin recently... that means sad and weepy, but drunk. we can't figure out what the fuck happened. mal-aka and longshanks seem to think he is being held ransom by either the insurgency or the pangalacticists... i haven't heard anything in the shack of beration lately. although... that's probably because no one is stupid enough to admit to it in a confession to me... right....

flapjack seems to favor the theory that he has left on his volition, to become a roboporn star. that idea gives me a smile.

sooooo..... it was time to do some investigation. like fuck was i gonna get myself abducted by the pangalacticists or the insurgents, and i didn't feel like looking around again, to see if his battery had gone dead or something and he was just lying underneath some enormous mountain of garbage, patiently waiting in a fugue state for the only man that ever loved him to come and rescue his sad little robot countenance.

looking at a mountain of roboporn seemed like a much much better proposition. so off we went to zog's to see what we might find. flapjack, being the roboporn aficionado that he is, knew at an instant that the several hundred or so vids that zog had in his shop were a no-go... he'd abused himself to those many a time and promised me that skip was nowhere in them.

'well flapjack, you fucking tell me then? when is the last time you saw a broken fucking robot in a robo porn? what kind of sick bastard wants to watch a damaged bot get repeatedly penetrated by... uh...'
i looked down trying to find the name of an actor...
'gavoid with the huge processor or uh...'
... i scanned again...
'hiltron 2.0, now with more fuckvolts?'
flapjack mentioned something to me about if you can dream it, someone else has already masturbated to it  and the market exists. sometimes he ain't so stupid. must be his daddy's genes rubbing off on him.... hahahahahahahahahah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

zog freaks out at us yelling about retarded robo porn and kicks us out. we knock over a few displays and throw a bottle at him.

understandably, we left zog's a bit upset. all of the sudden this largish, soggy, brownish spacesponge named spajjy squishes his way up to us. i've seen spajjy about every now and again... his lot live on comets and other moist bits in deep space, so where he actually lives on the station is a bit of a mystery... i suspect somewhere in the bilge, where he can soak up the effluent of the thousands of rotten souls that infest this hulk.

anyway, spajjy is a good sort. his own biological inclinations have impacted his career choice - he is a scavenger, except he gets all the shit that i won't even touch... mostly because i'd contract some horrible disease down there. but lucky for him, that's how his species eats, so he's one of the happier people er... sponges... i've ever met... plus, being a sponge means he can outdrink anyone on the station, which makes him good company and a good partner to fleece richkids and starclowns who think they've embarked on some grand adventure.

spajjy moists the grating underneath him as he splooshes up to us. he mentions that he couldn't help but overhear that we might need some vids of a... say... less than legal nature. we verify his suspicion... he tells us to meet him at zargle's... not a problem... he slorps his way down the corridor and we settle in a for a few drinks over at the old watering hole.

spajjy returns after an hour or saw, oozing some color i've never seen before, his usual brown now a kind of iridescent pinkish black, if you can imagine such a horror. he plops down three vids for us...

when he speaks, it sounds like a very long sneeze mixed with a drowning man's cry for help.

'i found these the other day. started watching the first few minutes and i couldn't watch anymore...'
this from a man who lives in a sewer.
'too much, too much. i love skip, but i can't handle these films. look through 'em if you want and see if he is in there. you'll not find any name-brand robo porn actors... no one with a vibrator or plasmaplug endorsement deal... this shit is like baby spacemonkey fights or those films where they drug a spacesponge and see how quickly he gets torn up by rats... fucked up.'

i've never seen such a look of eroticism and revulsion on a person's face as was on flapjacks right now. i suspect he may have had a little accident from spajjy's description.

we thanked the sponge and bought him a few drinks. then flapjack and i retired to our chambers, booze in hand, to suffer through pornography in order to find our missing friend...

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