Screw the Universe by Stephen Schwegler, Eirik Gumeny Page A

said First Lieutenant Duknerts. “How... Why...?”
     
    “Told you granting her sentience was a terrible idea,” said Private Redshirt.
     
    “Says you, you filthy hussy,” replied the computer.
     
    “Say that again, bitch! I will fucking cut you!”
     
    “I’d like to see you try!”
     
    “Ladies, ladies,” said Captain Tyler. “We’d all like to see that. But first, we have a time machine to poke with a stick. Computer, lock us into orbit.”
     
    “Yeah, all right, whatever,” said the ship’s computer.
     

     
    The Zdravo orbited the planet Timeskipado, as the landing party of Captain Oswald Van Vanderhoort Van Tyler, First Lieutenant Archibald Duknerts, Private Yvette Redshirt and Private Percival Q. Purplepants, against the wishes of the planet’s indigenous people, examined the first known working time machine.
     
    Assuming by “examined,” one meant “Captain Tyler immediately jumped into it and started pressing buttons, then vanished in a flash of pink dust and something that smelled like asparagus.”
     
    First Lieutenant Duknerts and Privates Redshirt and Purplepants, not really knowing what else to do, sat around and waited for their intrepid captain to return from the past. Or the future. Or wherever the hell he ended up. Again, ignoring the natives’ requests.
     
    Eventually, the first lieutenant and his girlfriend got bored and decided to start making out. Aggressively. Private Purplepants, horrified at what he was watching and clutching his helmet with both hands, began apologizing to the natives who, tired of being ignored, were gathering with lit torches and sharp rocks.
     
    Then, all of a sudden, Percival Q. Purplepants vanished. Disappeared into thin air. Then the natives turned into giant, sabre-toothed butterflies.
     
    First Lieutenant Duknerts and Private Redshirt stopped their grope fest and just stared at each other.
     
    “The fuck you think you’re doing?” asked the private, removing various parts of the lieutenant from various parts of herself.
     
    “Me? What about you? I’m your commanding officer!” retorted the first lieutenant.
     
    “You’re not commanding me to do anything, you pervert!” yelled Private Redshirt, before storming off to the teleportation rendezvous area and beaming back aboard the ship.
     
    “Crazy bitch,” grumbled First Lieutenant Duknerts.
     
    Three seconds later, Captain Tyler emerged from the time machine. Behind him stood a small hill of pirate gold.
     
    “’ Nerts! How ya been? How’s the missus?”
     
    “Uh, fine, sir,” replied the first lieutenant, looking confused. “And who?”
     
    “Booby McFuntits?”
     
    “I don’t....”
     
    “Damn it, I know she has a na— Redshirt! That’s her face.”
     
    “Oh, her. While you were gone, that harlot somehow covertly stuck my hand in her pants. I called her out on it and she got mad and now she’s back in the ship.”
     
    “Wait, you ‘called her out?’ Why would you ever not want your hand in her – Hey, where’s Purplepants?”
     
    “I don’t know who you’re referring to.”
     
    “Percival.”
     
    “I’m sorry, sir. Still got nothing.”
     
    “He was here five minutes ago when I left.”
     
    “No... It was just me and that sex fiend.”
     
    “What about the natives?”
     
    “The native... population? Of butterflies?”
     
    “No, they were people. I know because I tried to bone one and he slapped me.”
     
    “He, sir?”
     
    “Where did they go, Duknerts?”
     
    “Nobody went anywhere, Captain. Except Private Redshirt.”
     
    “Is this some kind of a trick, Lieutenant? Are you trying to bait me into doing something stupid so you can murder me again? Because that’s illegal now. I spoke with Space Marshal Orr and –”
     
    “Space Marshal who, sir?”
     
    “Orr. Space Marshal Phil Orr.”
     
    “There’s no Space Marshal Orr, Captain,” said First Lieutenant Duknerts. “Are you feeling okay? Did you catch something in