Agent-23

[KandySingular]

On board the CorbySchapelle, a Cryer Pharmaceuticals Titanic, the Captain was not in a good mood. He was looking at the delivery receipt from the Hellhounds gig. He knew if Ms.Singular found out how he had wasted time and fuel and gotten 20% less on two runs of contraband he would be further in Ms. Singulars debt than he already was.

"What do ya' mean de fust t'deliveries wont count towards de total. You's honkyfool, ah' told ya' t't'row de damn subscripshun fees fust man. 'S un-coo', bro. Dat be goin' t'really cut into our profit margin." he shouted down at the radio officer from his captains chair.

"Hey, it aint mah' fault. ah' did not get an account t't'row it t'till yesterday. Slap mah fro.! What wuz ah' supposed t'do, guess where t't'row dat cash to?" Sam the radio operator was known to loose track of things like paperwork, because of his habit of being drunk all the time.

"Sheeeet, dude pay mo'e attenshun next time, we kinnot make missnatch'd likes dat, Ms Sin'ular gotss'ta our asses in some slin'. You's know how she gets when she goes on de warpad. Dont let ha' size honkyfool ya' dude. She gotss'ta straight waaay down put da damn hurtin' on us. De loss gotss'ta t'mosey on waaay down out uh our cut, ya' know dat right?" Suave Charlie lifted up is sunglasses and gave him the bugeyed stare down, just to let him know he was not playing around in the least bit.

"Captain, we are comin' waaay down on planet Crete. Ah' gots da damn dockin' sequence dialed in and everydin' be in de green. 'S coo', bro. We gots an offload crew waitin' at da damn docks. We should be waaay down and eyebally t'move in few hours again. 'S coo', bro." The navigator, Narcisus Slim gave the Captain an update, and went back to steering the ship up to the mooring fixture.

"Finally some baaaad ass news. Alright den sucka's, nodin' t'it but t'do it. Lets get it unloaded and reloaded and back out into de void." He knew they would have to make up the time, but it was no use letting Ms. Singular know about it. "And we keep dis mess waaay down t'ourselves. What da damn devil duznt know, de devil kint use t'kill ya'." Everyone nodded in agreement. "And, someone turn that music up, dat gotss'ta gotss'ta be mah' favo'ite song fo' sho' nuff. What it is, Mama. Right On! dat be some old time classy stuff." Suave Charlie knew that old sol classics and a bit of good Synth always made bad situations better.