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[AUDIO | PA SYSTEM]

[ DING ~ DING ~ DING; what kind of sound do the HIGHLY ADVANCED PA SYSTEMS EVEN MAKE OKAY? The sounds of ALAN RICKMAN and a thirteen year old cool kid grace your ears, Tranquility. Unfortunately this is over the PA Systems, and you can't unhear this drivel or set it to mute.

blue = sherlock
red = dave ]

I am not reciting the lines of your Earth's slam poetry, 'Bow Chika Wow Wow', David. The premise is ridiculous.

It's Dave. David is your bible-thumping cousin who lives with his mom, christ, and dude you literally just said it. Again, with feeling.

Yes, but we've been over this. I am not rapping out the rest of the song with you, or passing air through my mouth to make noises you deem as music.

I've told you it's called beatboxing and it's one of the finest arts known to mankind.

You wouldn't know fine art if Van Gogh hit you on the head with his missing ear.

If the dude's going around whacking kids with his own severed features then he's crazier than Art Attack made him out to be.

[ The sound of a face hitting a palm]

Welcome to Radio Free Tranquility, this is Dave the Rave and co-host: Sherlock Holmes. On the list of things I am not doing, appending myself with a superfluous title, Dave is under item twenty-two. Had you bothered to read my list- Shercock Homeboy.

Regardless, we are here, to put our position as communications officers to better use and announce things people's dull existences on board deem important to progress with their lack of lives as they float on in space, empty, goalless and doomed. As you may have observed the little drop boxes that have been set up on board the ship, labelled 'Announcements' with a stack of post it's hovering over it, they were indeed created by the communications team as a way to announce going ons onboard. Their purpose, was in concept supposed to be beneficial to the whole ship.

So - will the person drawing male genitalia and dropping it in the dropbox, please do refrain from continuing to do so. That's sixty three in counting and your drawings are currently under analysis.

Can you draw me like seven more, I'm making a mural. Cocks II. First up is our lucky winner, and local Mother Hen, Doc Watson.

Doctor Watson, is pulling rank as he's a war doctor invalidated from Afghanistan, as if that wasn't obvious enough and has begun to amass his legion of non-humans with intents to bathe them, shelter them and teach them about bodily excretion from a mature and purely medical standpoint. Enlistment for his robotic army starts in the medbay; and if you formerly ran on an OS do so drop by. It's the room that says: Medbay. Or as Dave has so cleverly summarized it:

All down deep in the guts of this floatin' hood
gathering up his forces all robotic
getting' filthy despotic
that shit ain't for good
every retrained, rebrained circuit firing: yes sir, understood-- Dude, why the hell aren't you getting your beat on. Need my back-up.

- You're doing a fine job on your own. Spiffing job.

On my home planet I'm worshiped as a fucking rap god.

A questionable religion.

Speaking of fucks who need some serious Ill Stridmaticism in their lives, got a message here for some our favorite pony pals.

5- quite sure that's an S - Some ponies who will not de? b faces the other way. [ A pause, he takes a moment to reread ] - Strider, does this look like a 9 to you or a depressed g?

Dunno. Put it on the wall with the other dicks.

From what I can read out is, that a certain fellow who prefers to remain anonymous and has the worst penmanship I've seen tells the formerly whooved to keep their livestock under control. Is it racist to say livestock when we're discussing the ponies pets?

All I know is brother says he got problem to front
all up on a cathunt
prowling these decks
prepared to flex some specs about this pussycat
gonna take it to bat if it don't scat-- holy shit man are you really gonna leave me hanging like this every time?

[ Oh Strider, have a very dry sounding ] Bdmp-tssss.

[ An equally dry ] F for effort.

[ coughs ] Speaking of racism and moving on. We were asked to bring up the ongoing amount of racism on board and that oh, Aliens have feelings too. I personally think the aliens should in anger retaliate, turn over a nice murder, hide it somewhere on board and leave a substantial lack of evidence. Things should be more interesting.

Up in your area
causin' mass hysteria
it's our bros from outer space
laying' on the line the way you spitting be a disgrace
saying don't be a spacecase open your arms and embrace-- Every time you sit there in fucking silence is another knife right here in my heart. Talk about murder, bro, this is it right here.

Most murderers couldn't find the heart if their victims' lives depended on it. Too much rib and bone and superior vena cava to consider. A stab to the jugular is simply the more cost effective route.

Most direct route to my heart is through not threatening my life, holy shit.

I don't see you suffering through rigor mortis just because I refuse to rap with you.

I take back that fistbunp I taught you earlier. On to more people who should never, ever get fistbunps, something about a Puzzle Club or some shit.

It was fine the first time, and then you decided to add exploding ones into the equation. But yes, the puzzle club - you know who you are. Are meetings will shift from the Kitchen, due to the last incident we cannot talk about. We all know whose at fault and what does not bear repeating. Due to symptoms of trauma among some of our members, we should probably move the venue. The Oxygen Garden is currently preoccupied for other illicit activities; so anywhere outside of the Kitchen and the Garden should be grand.

First rule of the Puzzle Club, you don't talk about the Puzzle Club. If you'd rather never talk about the Puzzle Club again, you can help stomp out the last of their kind by joining in this parade of misery and signing up for your very own dead-end career on board.

If it is your first time in the puzzle club, you must puzzle. Speaking of things that are puzzles, the crew. We've all noticed the blatant lack of the crew on board. It's as if there's a gigantic over aching mystery as to why there is no crew on a ship this big and in blatant need of reassessment. Those of you who want to be under Ward and Resnik's mercies, do sign up for the crew. They obviously need more people.

Because there's no love like crew love
out here in the deep blue cause
we be chosen out here in space frozen
my gang be tight when they get their shit right-- I'm serious, you're killing me here. You're making this a hell of a hostile work environment.

You've hung sixty three pictures of male genitalia on the walls, and I'm making it hostile?

It's art. Fine art.

Van Gogh's dismembered bits disagree.

On a dismembered bits note, this next one is about a certain ballbuster on board. Also we can't say this fucking word on air, sorry, Anonymous Submitter.

Something rather rude and catty against a country. Belarus. The sender diagnoses her as insane, and tells the ship we shouldn't listen to anything she says. I find that rather rude and an aggrievance to the clinically insane. You've got no certification on that regard sender, your handwriting gives me no allusions to a medical degree much less one in the field of psychology. Graphology also dictates with the way you curve that 'I', you're strong willed and european by the sounds of it. The note also dictates a strong History with Belarus; shot in the dark but I'd even go as far as saying they're from the same world. Now, Strong Willed, European, Female from the same world as Bel-
Moving on. Dave, distract them with your sweet rhymes.

Don't even think we need to pile on more sick burns to that fiery blaze
but I'm up for throwing down the haze
we can talk 'bout how my rhymes be divine
how my poetry should be locked in a cell
left down there to dwell
let's just say this ruse went off with a hitch
flyin' high over the head of that bi-- I thought we had something good here, and you won't even beatbox for me. I thought you were my Holmeboy.

I'm not partaking in Vocal Percussion with you. I can go get a violin, if you'd like. What's next on the list?

Fuck yes you're bringing a violin next time. Got a note here from a lady telling me she wants your pasty bodies covered up dudes, seriously. I agree, that's fucking disgusting.

Noted. This is a respectable ship and not a nudist colony. Now will you rap about naked men or do we proceed to our final announcement?

You really want to hear my carefully crafted ode to free-balling?

You've prepared one?

[ there is only radio silence for an answer, but know that Dave's poker face has not moved an iota. ]

Oh, the last one. From the Doctor. Simply says: "Hello to you too."

And goodbye to the rest of you, we outtie.

[ We'll both be responding and tagging around! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

there is a lot of dicks in the announcement.
i think there are too many.

you cant just go halfway with your modern art or it makes you look like a jackass

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