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Lunacy: Gas in the Tanks

06/01/12

  06:51:00 am, by Nic Wilson   , 598 words  
Categories: Lunacy

Lunacy: Gas in the Tanks

Clod was sitting in the pilot's seat. Their shuttle was already on its trajectory, and she didn't have the steering systems active. But she had her hands on the stick, anyway, because it was where she was most comfortable.

Paul had developed a fast friendship with her, initially because she'd made a beeline for the inside of his pants. But it had progressed to something like a grudging, fraternal respect. That's why he was sitting in the captain's chair, just a little back from hers, but enough to the side that they could talk.

He was staring out at the stars, but caught enough of her reflection in the window to notice when she made a face. ?Ulck,? she said, her nose twisting up. ?I swear to God, Levy, you fart one more time, and I'm going to seal you back up in your suit. I don't care if we have to waste all of our O2 tanks, I'm done smelling whatever the hell you ate that makes that smell.?

?It wasn't me that time,? he said. ?I swear.?

?After that,? Rica said timidly, ?I'm kind of scared to admit this, but, it was me. And for the record, it was a calzone.?

?I didn't know hot chicks could fart,? Levy said, ?especially not like that.? He held up his hand, and Rica slapped it. ?Props.?

?I hate to disabuse you of that notion,? Clod said, ?but I don't think it was going to last a two year voyage; I just can't hold it in that long. But we do.?

?We?? Paul teased.

?Like you weren't trying to look at my cleavage five minutes ago.? 

?I've never seen someone cleave in a spacesuit.?

?Because you've never seen me in one.?

?Cool it, you two,? Martin said. ?Because we have neither a hose to turn on you, or a room for you to get.?

?No worries,? Paul said. ?Just having a little harmless fun.?

?It's always harmless until it isn't,? Martin said. ?Just behave; I'm taking a turn on the cot.?

?But we were going to use the cot,? Paul teased.

?That's not nice,? Clod said. ?Toying with a girl's emotions like that- getting my hopes up only to dash them.? Paul smiled.

?Go fish.? Rica said from behind them.

?I hate this game,? Alisa said.

?Then I don't know why you refused to play strip poker with me.?

?Because we're not nineteen year old boys, hoping to catch our first glimpse of real boob.?

?I am- at heart,? Levy said, leaning over the back of his chair.

?And it's not like we can get out of our spacesuits without help.?

?This is burgeoning on a letter to Penthouse,? Levy said.

?And there's him, leering as if he depended upon it to live.?   

?Leering is an important part of our biology; maybe my life doesn't depend on it, but the long-term viability of our species depends on men wanting to sleep with women, despite all the potential diseases, or the cost and responsibilities of children.? 

?So you're only now coming to understand what women have known going back to ancient Greece: that society depends upon the stupidity of men.?

?I don?t know that I would have nut-shelled it like that,? Levy said.

?So, strip poker?? Rica asked.

?It would just take that one word to make me believe in God and possibly an Easter bunny,? Levy said hopefully.

?Go fish,? Alisa replied.

?I don't know how I'm going to survive two years of this,? Martin said, and turned away from the crew, and covered his face with his arm.

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