Scene 9.09 - The Great Race
EST: INT. U.S.S.S. Light Zodiac Cruiser Regula - March 7th, 7037 A.D.
(VERNE is sitting calmly in a two-seat cockpit, occupying little of the bench seat, not-yet-buckled-in.)
STARBASE CONTROL V.O.
Roger, Lima Zulu Charlie Zero One, you are cleared for departure, estimated time of return?
VERNE
Uh, Control, uh, Jerry, just keep it open -- between two-zero-zero-zero and two-two-zero-zero. Gotta take her to the Big Wash... The Admiral likes a little extra polish on the paint.
STARBASE CONTROL V.O.
Roger. You know, Roomie, we could shine her up for you in our motor pool, save you a long wait in line and maybe you could get in our poker game in the commons -- (Coy, teasing:) Shelia and her sister are going to be there-
VERNE
Sounds tempting, Jerry, but if the Admiral's gonna inspect this baby tomorrow, I got to make sure she's in tip-top shape in addition to just looking good. I figger I'd take her out for a five parsec run just to put the shine back into the chrome. You know, to be sure.
COMPUTER
New Destination, Admiral: Staging Area, Sevren's Arena, Local Supercluster.
STARBASE CONTROL V.O.
Suit yourself, Sickle. Might see you topside tonight if my luck runs out -- they gotta new movie playin'. Cosmic Warlord 2 is out. I'm grabbin' some beer. Hope we'll see you back by...
(VERNE taps a button and instantaneously materializes in a particle-filled area that resembles a speedway pit in cosmic scale. Various sleek-and-fast spaceships litter the pit are while numerous slow and sensor-oriented ships line the course, which look much like speedway spectators, perhaps. Yet another hologram appears on the windshield.)
COMPUTER
Voyage Complete.
GAME COMMISSION V.O.
You're late.
VERNE
No, I'm not.
GAME COMMISSION V.O.
Two minutes to green. You almost forfeited.
VERNE
I got held up by command. I gotta day job, ya know.
GAME COMMISSION V.O.
You forfeited your position that was based off your recorded time trial, your last race posit-
VERNE
Aw man, that was in another ship, and-
GAME COMMISSION V.O.
You were not present to take your assigned position at the call, so you lose your pre-run position and are assigned your last-race position. You are 17.
VERNE
(Taxis over, sparks one. Damn, his last. Got a fresh sack just this morning. Should have tapped into it. Well, hells-bells. It will hafta do. Fortunately, it's a quick race...) Aw, that's crappy.
GAME COMMISSION V.O.
It's in the rulebook. Race now, argue later. Out.
VERNE
Sh- (-it, left the damn mike open. Damn smart cars... Tokes.) Okay, 17, 17, I'm there.
(He does a few punches on the dash and the powerful ship maneuvers into its starting position. It's decked with all the pedals and shifters of a race car. The back of VERNE'S head and the rest of his body become fixed in a rigid, yet-flexible, gel-like bodysuit; custom-made for individual race car drivers and molded to his form perfectly. He tokes the joint several times. A chime, a long red light, a long amber light and then a green light and all ships phase away, going out at near-light-speed. VERNE slowly moves the accelerator lever forward, taps a button and the ship lurches forward, slowly, slowly gaining speed, the tail lights of the ships in front of him now appear as one faint, solitary dot. Ships parked along the sides of the course look less like a blur and more like a throbbing, hazy line of silver. Still accelerating. VERNE shifts from first. Gaining. The faint red dot has split to two, now three, four, more dots. Gaining. Slowly, then not so slowly, all the ships ahead in the race come into view -- their streaked, streamlined bodies hover for a moment ahead, then astride, then just behind, then drops into a small, solitary, dim white/pink light, surrounded by weaker glimmers against a backdrop of countless reddened stars and galaxies. Shifts to third. Still accelerating.)
COMPUTER
(Flat male voice:) Warning! Human gravity-intolerance levels rapidly approaching.
VERNE
(Exhales toke:) Erewwiiiouirooiii-
(The ship begins to shake & shimmy. Shifts to fourth. Still accelerating.)
COMPUTER
Warning! Critical tolerance levels reached in hull integrity, inertial dampening fields, quantum stabilization buffers-
VERNE
Mmmmm- Manual... C- control!
COMPUTER
Warning! Course turn of ninety degrees right one parsec away.
VERNE
(Downshifts to third, tokes.) B- Brakes!
COMPUTER
Full Manual Control enabled. Braking system applied. 4 G's. 3 Gs. 2 Gs.
VERNE
(Exhales.) Ugh... I feel drunk. (Tokes; lazily downshifts.) Computer, hard right on my mark, 13 over pi.
COMPUTER
Ready.
VERNE
Go!
(Exhales. The ship careens hard right; a small shudder becomes a rough ride becomes a violent shake and then a skidding rumble.)
VERNE
(Brow crinkles as he engages the blackstar overdrive:) Punch it!
COMPUTER
Sir?
VERNE
Ready overdrive. (Jumps to fourth gear.) Now, ease her up to 6 or 7 G's-
COMPUTER
Sir-
VERNE
(Tokes. Narrowly misses going off-track.) Nah, jus' being cute -- keep her accelerating and when we round the next bend, I want you to hit them after-burners and be ready to pull all the chutes we got so we don't blow a hole through a moon or something.
COMPUTER
Sir?
VERNE
Parachutes, your braking systems. Look, we only got a few short seconds to the next curve and this one's a doozy, keep it at 1 or 2 over pi, give or take 1 over pi, Capiche?
COMPUTER
What shall it be, Admiral?
VERNE
Pick one. As close to being zero as you can get without going into the negative and keep them quantum generators running cool. Don't let us hit the moon, keep us on course and away from the- I don't need to use up all our juice before we hit them afterbur- now, man, now!
(Computer squelchy sound as the computer enters 1 over pi. The cockpit darkens as VERNE violently shifts into fifth and puches the overdrive button.)
WIPE TO:
INT. Oblivion - Day
ANIMATION STYLE 1
(JYNX is unloading a moving van while VERNE carries a large, gaudy lamp and a pink-and-black trunk while VIOLET carries a small box of towels, an ice bucket. Both head toward a space-age loft apartment while JYNX continues to make stacks of items outside the back ramp of the truck.)
VIOLET
Oh, it's so beautiful! Just like I've always wanted!
VERNE
(Struggling to scale the steps.) Glad I could oblige...
JYNX
Hey! Don't dally in there! We gotta butt-load of trips to make!
VERNE
We'll be right out!
INT. Apartment
(The two walk into a large, empty, well-lit apartment, perched some fifty feet above the wooded area. Hard-wood floors, abundant windows, a circular main room. VIOLET sets her stack of folded towels by the door and walks to the kitchen island and deposits the ice-bucket with wine and a stack of pastel sippy-cups. She dances about the room, arms spread wide. VERNE crosses to the center of the room, eyeing her oddly as she prances.)
VERNE
Where do you want all this stuff?
VIOLET
(Arms wide; enjoying the space vs. the obstacles of hoarder-style stacks of stuff crammed in her thirty-third-story high-rise apartment in the city.) Oh, just set it down. Plug in the light, tho -- it will be dark soon.
THUD!
(VERNE sits on the trunk. His last apartment was also much smaller.)
VERNE
Whew! Wha the hell you got in there?
VIOLET
Just my underwear.
VERNE
Huh?
VIOLET
And a couple books.
VERNE
Uh.
VIOLET
And my barbell set.
VERNE
Errgh.
VIOLET
Oh, and my fire safe. I keep all the ammo to my vintage Colt in there.
VERNE
(Gets up and plugs in the tall, thin, wrought-iron-and-ceramic, purple-flamingo lamp with the satin-pink, mauve-fringed lampshade. VERNE produces a joint and strikes a match against the fat, curvy, yellow ceramic beak of the lamp.) I'm going to need a break after that one. Glad I got the heavy one out of the way.
VIOLET
Oh, there's still lots of heavier stuff than that. You might need Jynx to help you, tho.(Shoves a stone ashtray to the corner of the granite kitchen island. Pours a drink of white wine into her pink styro-foam sippy cup. Fondles with her stash box -- which was the one weighted thing she bothered to carry, or for that matter, plans to carry:) I brought up an ashtray. Use it.
VERNE
Whatcha got there?
VIOLET
Chardonnay. Want some?
VERNE
I'll go with some tap water if it's on. I mean in the box? You holdin'?
VIOLET
(Shoves idle cup of tap water toward ash tray, nearly splashing it across the purple-cosmos-looking granite surface.) Hereyago. I'm rollin' us all a joint.
VERNE
A Christening. Cool.
VIOLET
(Sparks it and crosses. Looks at herself in a warped-chrome full-length wall mirror mounted on the interior wall. The beatnik black leggings and gray-and-black, horizontal-striped shirt complete with black beret blend well with her purple-and-black-striped body. She admires her figure from the side as she scratches her calf with the top of the opposing foot's black pump. She takes a large gulp.) I think I'm going to love it here. The mirror makes me look tall.
VERNE
(Takes joint from her, embraces her from behind with his free hand, pulling her back to a mounted barstool at the end of the kitchen island; popping her onto his lap as he sits. He kisses her neck and tokes. He exhales as he looks from the foyer mirror, then about the apartment.) I wish it was always like this.
VIOLET
(Blows him a kiss.) It will be. It took me long enough to finally decide I like ya.
VERNE
I knew you'd come around. (Kisses her again, below her ear.) I'm glad we're doing this.
VIOLET
Me too. I love it.
VERNE
It's a big step, tho.
VIOLET
I know. I haven't moved in with anyone since college.
VERNE
I think you're my first roomie since the Academy...
VIOLET
Oh yeah? (Tokes.) What was her name?
VERNE
Bucky Finnegan.
VIOLET
(Giggles.) She sounds delightful.
VERNE
A gem alright, nothing compared to you. I'm sure you won't smell up the bathroom as much.
VIOLET
Not as much. (Beat.) You think I'm gonna be doing all the chores around here?
VERNE
No, I... didn't mean it that way.
VIOLET
What way did you mean it?
VERNE
Is this our first argument in this place?
VIOLET
No... just a question. A question like: You gonna share that joint or what?
VERNE
Oh, sorry. (Passes.) Should we put the couch over there or by the windows?
VIOLET
Let's get everything in here first, then decide where everything goes.
VERNE
Sounds good to me.
JYNX
(At door, holding an assortment of blankets and bulky, lightweight things. He drops them near the door.) Me too. There's alot more stuff to bring in, ya know.
VERNE
We're out in the middle of the country, that stuff ain't going nowhere.
VIOLET
(Tokes.) We're taking a break.
JYNX
You just got started!
VERNE
We got all night.
VIOLET
Say... You guys up for a pizza?
JYNX
I'll call. You always get it wrong. I hate tofu.
VIOLET
No, I'll call, it's my house. We're vegetarian here.
VERNE
Again?
VIOLET
What do you mean, again?
VERNE
I mean, well, I thought you stopped that.
VIOLET
What made you think I stopped being a vegetarian?
JYNX
He's gotta point, Violet. There was the cookout last week; you had pigs-in-a-blanket.
VIOLET
Tofu pigs. And it was so nasty, too! Covered it with relish and it still tasted like fried butthole. (Tokes.) Hey, I'm not gonna gorge myself on potato salad and I'll be damned if I let myself starve. You only had one bag of chips and no veggie dip! What kinda party was that anyway?
JYNX
Uh, it was supposed to be an anniversary party for you two. Kinda like a present to ya...
VIOLET
Ah, well, thanks. And thanks for helping us move. We couldn't have done it without you.
JYNX
You guys are not exactly doing it with me, either.
VIOLET
(Tokes. Passes.) Thanks all the same.
JYNX
Don't sweat it. (Tokes.) I'll still be close enough to visit -- just a phone call away.
VERNE
You want me to call the pizza in or what?
JYNX
They deliver all the way out here?
VERNE
Yeah, yeah, I checked that out before I signed the lease...
VIOLET
(Flicks earring.) Yeah, delivery. Two large pizzas, one vegetarian and one meat-lovers.
JYNX
Ask if they got coffee.
VERNE
You serious? We got beer...
VIOLET
They ain't got coffee. Huh? No, I was talking to someone else. Yeah, that's it. You got my addy? Yeah, that's it. Tell the driver to ignore his G-P-S or he'll go too far, it don't work for nothing out here for some lame reason; have him tell his car take the second turn on the right and go up the driveway to the left after the big oak, and if he sees the duck pond he's gone too far. Okay, thanks. He says it's gonna be be thirty minutes, at least.
JYNX
Enough time to blaze up one of these? Wanna smoke this now?
(Okay, this star-spangled blunt not only has horns, but a hide of resinated Blue-Tooth. Apparently, JYNX prepared for the Christening above-and-beyond what one would expect.)
VIOLET
Is that a question?
VERNE
You been holding out on me, Jynx?
JYNX
I was gonna save it until we moved the entertainment center, but what the hell.
VIOLET
Spark it already! This one's just paper.
JYNX
You wanna help me carry the tube up next?
VERNE
Which wall we gonna put it on?
VIOLET
That one.
VERNE
Something good coming on? A pay-per-view fight or something?
JYNX
There's a zombie flick coming on at nine.
VERNE
I should-a known.
VIOLET
Oh yeah, which one? What movie?
JYNX
I Married A Teenage Zombie.
VIOLET
Ope! No good, done seen it already.
VERNE
Really?
VIOLET
Hell, I've probably seen them all.
VERNE
This is something new about you I didn't know. I never took you as the cult-horror type.
VIOLET
Aw, just the zombie stuff. I was doing research.
JYNX
Research? Research for what?
VIOLET
For my magic act. One of my stories involved zombies and I wanted it to be kinda scary; in a silly sort of way.
VERNE
Really? What, praytell, was this story about?
VIOLET
I told you; zombies taking over the world.
JYNX
Go ahead and pour me summa that vino you got there and let Uncle Jynx hear all about it. I like your stories, Vi, they're way more interesting than any of the movies I've seen.
VERNE
I agree. You should write movies; and hey, you never told us a zombie story before.
VIOLET
Maybe I should wait until it's dark. It's a halloween story.
VERNE
Nah, tell us now while we're relaxin'. We'll pretend to be scared.
JYNX
Maybe we should wait until we get all the other stuff brought in.
VERNE
Nah, we got all night and her stories sometimes take so long to get to the point sometimes it will be dark by the... I think that instead of rephrasing that; I'd better just stop talking.
VIOLET
Hey, not a problem! If you don't like my stories...
VERNE
Nah, I love 'em. (Smiles, tokes, passes, kisses.) I didn't mean it that way, Babe.
JYNX
We're all ears...
VIOLET
Okay. (Tokes.) It's called NOT UNDER: NIght Of The Unholy Necro-Demonic Entombed Resurrection. And there's like this guy, and he's like a famous rock star, and the time is so like way back in Jynx's day when people still had to drive their cars by themselves to get anywhere... I mean we're talking ancient...
ZOOM OUT
ELS: EXT. OBLIVION
ZOOM IN
MS: WASTELAND OF OBLIVION, BLACK FLOOR, WHITE CEILING, HORIZON LINE, INFINITY
MS: A PARTICULARLY BARREN SPOT
STILL ALL MOVEMENT
SILENCE
FX: Quantum implosion/explosion - alternate space-time
VERNE AND HIS STOLEN SPACE SHIP APPEAR, UNMOVING
CU: COCKPIT, VERNE IS UNCONSCIOUS
(The dash indicator shifts to 0 over pi as a red glow eminates briefly from the ship. VERNE is unconscious.)
LS: Regula parked in Oblivion, motionless
(The ship rests, unmoving, on the floor of Oblivion. ZERO is seen in the distance, walking quickly but calmly to the ship, waves of sand washing up to the infinite black shore across the expanse, lap the man's booted heels as if he were leading a sandy ocean toward the ship. Small dust devils form from the folds of his long, silken, dusty cape. sand trails from his appendages as he walks briskly toward the craft. He carries a small box and is smiling. ZERO'S face and visible skin seen through his Arabic clothing is covered with red and purple tribal tattoos, intermingling with one another where it appears to be one grand illustrated design with small pictures within -- all lighty coated with a transparent, cracked mud shroud made from sweat and white desert sand. ZERO opens the canopy and sits next to the unconscious VERNE. It is Sandman VERNE ZERO, carrying what appeards to be an ornate cigar box wrapped with a violet bow. He regards his former self. Long Pause. ZERO checks VERNE'S medical status, checks the dashboard indicators and then chuckles. Over the following seventy-two seconds, ZERO does the following: Roaches VERNE'S pinner, still lit in his hand, materializes a lit blunt of his own, toking it throughout, enters a series of pre-set commands for VERNE'S stolen ship, takes a few colored crystals from the "glove box" takes a small cube from the dash and leaves the gift-wrapped box of fantabulous blunts in its place. He exits, then walks away slowly.)
ZERO
Starcar Regula's log, Captain Julian Sickle, U-S-S-S Enrapture reporting: Having been delivered from a time-loop in an ion storm by an entity from another dimension and another time, and then escaping further horrors of miscalculation in a parallel universe, I have now become hopelessly marooned in a timeless world; one that the others entities here call "Oblivion", Thanks to the serendipity of your driver's quantum course, I have acquired the tools necessary to possibly affect a transport for myself and the others marooned here to escape. With the help of... (looks at sleeping self) this ship, I've been able to acquire a primary-matrix quantum replicator and a few fragile-but-rare blocks of raw Ellisonium. Of course, this may be the first time fuel has been removed from a racecar during a pit-stop, but as you may-well-know, Admiral, there's a first-time for everything -- like hop-headed-yet-forgivable Ensigns joyriding in a stolen starcar. Many thanks, Admiral, I have to go replicate a pizza for my wife; duty calls... Truly, thanks for the replicator, Admiral. Hopefully, the person I know best and love most won't use his added time aboard your ship to sample all of the gift I left for you as a token of thanks. In your time, that strain hasn't been developed yet. Captain Julian Sickle of The U-S-S-S Enrapture out.
FX: Quantum Flash
QUICK DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. SPACE-TRACK
(A flash and we see a departing ZERO and the rest of Oblivion vanish as the ship returns to normal space, completing a final turn at the extreme edge of the end of the racetrack, nearly confounding the laws of physics and setting new speed records -- having folded space and all. It appears as if the ship had never left this dimension of normal space and moved past the speed of light -- the computer masterfully brakes the super-soniic ship once across the finish line as VERNE awakens. Seventy-two seconds have elapsed.)
VERNE
(Seeing the celebrations and fireworks about the ship.) What happened?
COMPUTER
You've won the race, Admiral.
VERNE
How?
COMPUTER
Unknown. The data concerning your pre-set flight path is... overwhelming. The race was won in record time.
VERNE
I won? No... pre-set? No, I didn't do this pre-set.
COMPUTER
I am receiving the last of your pre-set commands now, Admiral.
VERNE
I ain't the Admiral. And I didn't do no stinkin' pre-sets. What you doing? What is this?
COMPUTER
New Destination, Admiral: We are to travel to sub-sector 1-9-2 in the Virgo-
VERNE
(Over:) What? (Interrupting:) The hell we are!!!
(They phase out.)
COMPUTER
Voyage complete.
VERNE
(The gel suit melts away magically.) Wh- What did you just do?
COMPUTER
TESTI travel per pre-set command; it took six point five nanoseconds to execute-
VERNE
Naw! (Looking out:) Where in the hell are we now?
COMPUTER
In an asteroid field in the ordinance debris cluster known as sub-sector 1-9-2 in the Vir-
VERNE
A junkyard? Oh... Great. Call up the game commission and claim my prize and tell the motor pool I'll be back closer to twenty-two hundred. Navigate me a direct quantum path there so I can get the boys in the motor pool to doll this baby up and set back the odometer before the Admiral will even have a chance to notice it's missing.
COMPUTER
Unfortunately, Admiral, all remaining stores of Ellisonium were depleted with the last jaunt.
VERNE
What? Aw, no! (Looks at gas guage, slaps it a bit) No! You sure? No! Every drop?
COMPUTER
Yes, Admiral. The distance to travel instantaneously to this point was precise up to the remaining nanogram of atomized fuel crystals.
VERNE
Fantabulous. What in the hell happened here? I had a weird dream and- (Regards box.) Who left this in here?
COMPUTER
You did, Admiral.
VERNE
The hell I did! This isn't making any sense. I ain't the Admiral! Review the log of when I blacked out.
COMPUTER
Sir?
VERNE
That turn at 4 G's. When I was out from the lack of oxygen, somethin' musta happ-
COMPUTER
While within this craft, you have never been unconscious, Admiral.
VERNE
(Opens box:) What in the hell? Naw! Show me what all went on in here during that last turn in the race, and set a course for the closest place with a fueling point, using standard propulsion.
(VERNE, by rote, immediately sparks a blunt of the Simolean Spice, noting it's stoney kick and transcentental polygramophic abilities. Liking the smooth aroma and fruity flavor, he sweetens the hit with an additional two tokes. He watches a hologram of the seventy-two seconds in fast-forward and is transfixed.)
VERNE (Cont'd)
It's got to be sabotage; a trick. Someone wanted me to get in hot water and now I am. Hey! That looks like me! Hey! Slow it down and lemme look at that hologram again from the beginning in real time -- and he's saying something there, give me some audio.
COMPUTER
I'm sorry, Admiral this was only a transmission packet, it has been sent forth to command headquarters.
VERNE
What?!?
COMPUTER
A resident program sent orders to transmit all log files upon re-entry of normal space.
VERNE
Hey! Shut up! Bring up the last minute of me watching it! And I thought that you told me that carting me to this void of nowhere was your last pre-set command-
COMPUTER
My holographic recorder is no longer functioning, Admiral. Also, this latest command was pre-set before the command to transverse-
VERNE
Okay, don't do any more frickin' commands by any one else except me, and I'm talking about me, the guy that's here right now, and for the last stinkin' time, I ain't the Admiral! Stop making my life more difficult than it needs to be. No more! ...And that even means if something is already hardwired, you leave everything alone, and ask me first, or I'm liable to open you up and do some hardwiring of my own, Capiche?
COMPUTER
Understood.
VERNE
Now, how long until we get to our first fueling station?
COMPUTER
Three weeks, one day, four hours, fifteen minutes, nine-point-two-six-five-three sec-
VERNE
Aw! Aw, hell no! I'm gonna be facing a court-martial for sure! They sure as hell ain't gonna give me a medal. I doubt they'd send a fuel drone. How long until Earth gets the subspace transmission of the ship's log files?
COMPUTER
The nearest immidirelay outpost is one week, two days, eigh-
VERNE
Oh, oh... Ok, ok. (Tokes monstrously.) They're gonna lock me away forever for this one. I'm so busted.
COMPUTER
Sir?
VERNE
Ay-wall to the Nth degree. They'll take my rank and make me a lifer in the brig, fer sure.
COMPUTER
If we use the pull of a nearby star, we could shave seven hours off of the journey-
VERNE
Well, do it. A month to get back! (Sparks a second blunt from the cigar box. Good! ... Really good! ... Primo!) So, I know how we're recycling the water. What can you make to eat in these replicators here, computer?
COMPUTER
The ship's primary replicator is missing, sir.
VERNE
What? Am I gonna starve? Got to find someplace close, inhabited by something --
COMPUTER
I'm Regal class; I am equipped with a secondary replicator that provides the finest of Standard One Rations.
VERNE
Ho-oh-oh! It just keeps getting better! (Pauses, tokes.) Let's see: Fruity Tofu Gelatin, Peanut-Butter Pudding, that Baby-Aspirin-Tasting Juice and that Nasty, Sesame-Seed-And-Jelly-Filled Rice Candy. Am I right?
COMPUTER
Mostly. Some meals offer a sample of the Son Of The Americas Brand candies as an alternative dessert.
VERNE
Yeah, yeah, I know: Mango, Pineapple, Lemon-Lime and Coconut -- all with chili powder inside. I've had them all. I'm sure I will become more intimate with all of the menu's lesser-known varieties in the days ahead. (Beat.) Er-uh, weeks ahead.
COMPUTER
Would you like me to play you some music, sir?
VERNE
Maybe. You know any show tunes?
COMPUTER
Yes.
VERNE
Well, don't ever play any of those. What else ya got?
COMPUTER
My library is quite extensive.
VERNE
Why don't we just start out with "Camptown Races" and go from there, K?
COMPUTER
Very well.
(We hear an unsophisticated, annoying MIDI version of "Camptown Races" -- as if hearing a video game segue between a tough level to the boss-fighting phase. Perhaps you'd have had to have wasted an entire evening or two [ad infinitum] 'stuck' playing a redundant level of a crappy video game to the power of mindless infinity to grasp exactly what I'm describing here.)
ZOOM OUT
MS: THE VASTNESS OF SPACE
SILENCE
ELS: EXT. SHIP VERNE GIVING US A TORTURED, JUVENILE NEMO EXPRESSION FROM THE COCKPIT WHILE TOKING FERVENTLY
DISSOLVE TO: