Ferdia2010’s Weblog

A joke that was around a few years ago.

BRAIN SYSTEM: Attention. Alert registered.

CENTRAL: Alert? Number One, report!

NUMBER ONE: Sir! We’re picking up loud music.

CENTRAL: Music? We were just asleep!

NUMBER ONE: Yes sir. Ears report it’s The Last Train to

Clarksville.

CENTRAL: Goodness, are we being tortured?

NUMBER ONE: Sir, Eyes are functional and request

instruction.

CENTRAL: Tell them to open up and try to find out what

is going on.

NUMBER ONE: Scope! Okay, I see darkness… darkness…

Wait, there’s a woman sleeping there.

CENTRAL: A woman?

NUMBER ONE: Sir, Libido Station wants to know if it is

Anna Kournikova.

CENTRAL: Forget about Libido. What can you tell me?

NUMBER ONE: Sir, Memory reports a near perfect match to

wife, sir.

CENTRAL: Well of course. Keep looking.

NUMBER ONE: Sir, urgent report from Stomach on the phone,

do you want to take it?

CENTRAL: Stomach, what’s going on?

STOMACH: Sir, we’ve taken a hit, it…it looks bad, sir.

CENTRAL: Get hold of yourself, man!

STOMACH: Yessir. It looks like a burrito, sir. It exploded

at about 1900 hours and we’ve been out of action ever since.

I don’t…I don’t know if she can take much more, Captain.

CENTRAL: Stomach! Now you listen to me, son. We’re all

counting on you up here. Dont give up now. Remember the

chilli of 1997? We made it through that, we can make it

through anything.

STOMACH: Yessir. You can count on me, sir.

CENTRAL: Good man.

NUMBER ONE: Sir, I’ve got a visual on the clock!

CENTRAL: Tell me, Number One.

NUMBER ONE: Oh my God, sir. It’s horrible.

CENTRAL: Dammit sailor, get a grip on yourself!

NUMBER ONE: It’s… It’s six thirty, sir. In the morning.

CENTRAL: In the morning? Not again. I thought…I thought

that we’d had the worst of it yesterday.

SYSTEM: Sixty seconds to consciousness.

CENTRAL: This is madness. Do you know what’s going to

happen if we go conscious now, this early?

NUMBER ONE: Work, sir?

CENTRAL: That’s right, Number One. It’ll be work, all right.

I don’t…don’t know if I can live through that hell again.

SYSTEM: Fifty seconds to consciousness.

NUMBER ONE: Sir? Do you have orders?

CENTRAL: Hmmm?

NUMBER ONE: Orders, sir. Do you have orders for us?

CENTRAL: Orders? Orders, Number One? Damn right there are

orders! Let’s get ourselves moving.

NUMBER ONE: Aye aye, sir!

SYSTEM: Forty seconds to consciousness.

CENTRAL: Shut that damn thing off, I’m trying to think.

Get our remote stations on line. I want a Search and Acquire

on anything that feels like a snooze button. Tell them to

MOVE. Bladder!

BLADDER: Yes sir?

CENTRAL: How are you holding?

BLADDER: All systems are flush and ready, sir. We can go

another three hours, easy.

CENTRAL: Very well, Bladder. Number One, get me Nose on

the phone.

NOSE: Sir, Nose reporting, sir!

CENTRAL: Good to hear from you, Nose. How are you doing

up there?

NOSE: We registered cat breath about twenty minutes ago,

but it was pretty faint and I didnt think…

CENTRAL: Steady on, nose. You were right not to trigger an

alert.

NOSE: Thank you, sir.

CENTRAL: Nose, I’m afraid I have bad news for you, son. We

took a burrito last night.

NOSE: Oh no, sir, not again!

CENTRAL: I said steady! Youre going to have to hold on,

you hear me? Hold on,and it will pass. I don’t want ANYTHING

getting through to Consciousness.

NOSE: Yes sir. I’ll try, sir.

CENTRAL: That’s the spirit. Stomach!

STOMACH: Sir?

CENTRAL: How are you doing down there?

STOMACH: We’ve been breached, Captain. The whole alimentary

is in flames. I’m trying to keep it contained, but I can’t

promise anything.

CENTRAL: Damn!

NUMBER ONE: Sir, Libido Station reports it is ready for

battle!

CENTRAL: Tell Libido to calm down, I’ll call him when I need

him. Any report from our search party?

NUMBER ONE: Sir, Fingers report they located and toppled a

glass of water, a pair of glasses, and a box of Kleenex.

No luck on the snooze, sir.

CENTRAL: Number One, I don’t mind telling you, if we dont

get this under control we’re going to lose her.

NUMBER ONE: Yes sir. Sir, Libido requests positive

verification that the woman sleeping next to us is not

Anna Kournikova.

CENTRAL: For crying out loud.

NUMBER ONE: Sir, Ears reports the song is over. It’s

going to commercial, sir.

CENTRAL: How much time on the system clock?

NUMBER ONE: Ten seconds to consciousness, sir. We’ve lost

smile control in the lower facial and we’re developing a

frown.

CENTRAL: Brace yourself, Number One. I’m afraid we’ve

had it.

NUMBER ONE: Sir! Fingers has located target. Repeat,

Fingers is on target!

CENTRAL: Fire!

NUMBER ONE: Hit! Sir, direct hit!

CENTRAL: Ears!

NUMBER ONE: It’s gone, Captain! Ears reports the music

is gone!

CENTRAL: We’ve done it!

SYSTEM: Consciousness cancelled.

NUMBER ONE: Sir, all systems are ready for sleep mode.

Repeat, sleep mode now ready.

CENTRAL: Trigger sleep mode NOW.

NUMBER ONE: Sleep mode triggered, aye aye, sir.

CENTRAL: Shut Eyes.

NUMBER ONE: Eyes off, sir. Frown relaxed, smile restored.

CENTRAL: By golly, that was a close one.

NUMBER ONE: Yessir. Sir, Dream Team requests selection.

Libido asking for something naked, sir.

CENTRAL: Request denied. Let’s roll the one where we

show up for church wearing only our underwear, I like

that one.

NUMBER ONE: Roger that, sir. Dream selection completed

and tape is rolling, sir.

CENTRAL: Good work, Number One. You take the helm.

NUMBER ONE: Aye aye, sir.

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