[
And now, a public service announcement from your resident lord and master of gross exaggeration, poster child of pointless overreaction, supreme champion of the ninety-mile-an-hour whinge--]
There's a cow in the oxygen garden.
[
He doesn't even bother to hide the undercurrent of disgust in the audio feed, an edge to his voice that makes it clear he's most likely had a recent run-in with the aforementioned cow and/or a cow by-product.]
There's a
cow in the
oxygen garden why is there
a cow in the oxygen garden on what
strange, bizarro planet did
any of you think this was a good idea?
Agh, it's--never
mind, I'm absolutely positive that at least some of you come from strange, bizarro planets where this sort of thing is acceptable. I mean, the cats and the dogs and--I heard there's a horse, too--are bad enough, now we've got
livestock.
And don't even--don't even get me started on the bloody
birds. Filthy. Eugh.
I know we're probably still hung up on certain unnamed parties forgetting how to
swim, and
yes, fair enough, it's
tragic, but I think we could all use a, ah. Friendly reminder. This is, in fact, a
spaceship. Not a
zoo. How is that--What's the point, anyway? It's all--it's all great that the ship packed up your
giant killer wolf and dumped it in your locker
just for you, but maybe the rest of us are not entirely comfortable with the idea of cows and horses and
giant killer wolves out! Anyone think of
that?
You can't walk five
feet around here without running into someone's
pet. We have
got to start talking about what to do with all these
animals.
Honestly.