[ Firefly Fic: ] "Dead Boat Sketch"
Title: Dead Boat Sketch
Author: Sam Timmins
Fandom: Firefly/Monty Python
Rating: PG-13 - Mild cussin' and somesuch.
Summary: Mal's FIRST new ship purchase was a touch rushed, which leads him to confront the Shipyard owner...
Timeline: Post-Du-Khang and Serenity Valley battles, pre-"Firefly".
Canon? Are you serious?: It can be taken as either parody or seriously. It's fancy-schmancy like that. It aims to misbehave.
Where did this insanity start?: This link - http://www.fireflyfans.net/thread.asp?b=2&t=14362&m=197305#197305 - Thursday, October 27, 2005 : 11:30 - in which QUEENOFTHENORTH went nuts and tied in "Monty Python's Search For The Holy Grail" and "Firefly". Blame her for this. I do. ;)
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A recently served customer passes the doorway, entering the Shipyard's workshop.
Mal: Hey, I wanna register a complaint.
The Shipyard Owner does not respond.
Mal: Y'ello, Miss?
Shipyard Owner: Whaddya mean "Miss"...?
Mal: Sorry 'bout that, I godda cold. I wanna make a complaint!
Shipyard Owner: We're leavin' for lunch.
Mal: Enough of that crazy nonsense. Won't be goin' nowhere yet. I wanna complain about this ship that I purchased not a half hour ago from this here very anti-shiny boutique o'machinery.
Shipyard Owner: Oh yeah, the, uh, the "Norwegian Blue"...What's, uh...what's the trouble with 'er?
Mal: I'll tell you what's wrong with 'er. She's dead, that's what's wrong with 'er!
The Shipyard Owner looks out at the parked craft.
Shipyard Owner: No, no, She's uh,...she's restin'.
Mal: Look here fellah, I know a dead bird when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now.
Shipyard Owner: No, no, she ain't dead, she's, she's restin'! Remarkable bird, the "Norwegian Blue", ain't she, hey? Beautiful wingjets!
Mal: The wingjets don't enter much into it. She's a winged brick!
Shipyard Owner: No, no, no, no, no, no! She's restin'!
Mal: All right then, Mr. "NO!"-it-all...if she's restin', I'll wake 'er up!
Once they both enter the "Norwegian Blue", Mal shouts at the engine room's control panels while flicking switches that seem to do nothing that are supposed to do anything.
Mal: 'Elloooo, Miss Prissy Piston! I've got a lovely fresh mix o'workin's for you if you show...
The Shipyard Owner spins the engine.
Shipyard Owner: There, she moved! Saw't with yer own peepers!
Mal: No, she didn't, that was you spinnin' the cogs!
Shipyard Owner: Ah nevah!
Mal: Yeah, y'did!
Shipyard Owner: Ah nevah, nevah did anythin' o' the kind...!
Mal yells and flicks the controls repeatedly.
Mal: 'ELLO BLUEY! Testin'! Testin'! Testin'! Testin'! This is your nine ay-emm alarm call...!
Mal then takes engine cover panel off and thumps the electronics. Spinning the engine with his hands, letting go and watching as it slowly creaks to a halt, turning to the Shipyard Owner.
Mal: Now that's what I would call one heck of a dead boat.
Shipyard Owner: No, no.....no, she's stalled I tells ya!
Mal: STALLED...?!
Shipyard Owner: Yeah! You stalled 'er, just as she was warmin' up! The "Norwegian Blue" stalls easily, Cap'n.
Mal: What a crock o'go sa...now look here...now look son, I've definitely had enough of this, y'get me? That engine is definitely deceased, and when I bought it not half an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein' drained and stretched to it's limit following a prolonged and difficult test flight.
Shipyard Owner: Well, she's...she's, ah...probably pinin' for the Fjord Colony runs.
Mal: PININ' for the FJORD COLONY RUNS...?! What kind of talkin' is that?! Look, why did she fall flat on 'er back the moment I got 'er hoverin'?
Shipyard Owner: The "Norwegian Blue" prefers keepin' on 'er back! Remarkable boat, ain't it sir? Lovely paintwork...!
Mal: Look, I took the liberty of examinin' that there ship when I got 'er back t'base, and I discovered that th' only reason that she'd been hoverin' on her be-hind in the first place was that she'd been magnetically suspended there!
They both pause in a moment of silence.
Shipyard Owner: Well, o'course it were Magspended there! If I hadn't Magspended that bird up, it could've blasted up to th' other wrecks, smashed 'em apart with its fore, and VOOM! Fwhooooooooshhh!
Mal: "VOOM"...?! Look 'ere, this ship wouldn't "voom" if y' put four million volts through 'er! She's gorram demised!
Shipyard Owner: No, no! She's pinin'!
Mal: Will you listen to me you crazy-ass po dung?! She ain't pinin'! She's passed on! This boat is no more! She has ceased t'be! She's expired and gone to meet 'er maker! She's a stiff! Bereft of life, She rests in pieces! If you 'adn't Magspended 'er to the sky, she'd be pushin' up the daisies! 'Er Fusion based processes are now nucle'r fumes! She's off the sky! She's kicked the bucket, she's shuffled off 'er mortal machine coil, run down the curt'n and joined the gorram choir invisible! THIS IS AN EX-SPACECRAFT...!
They both pause again, an awkward silence but perhaps also an unspoken agreement.
Shipyard Owner: Well, I better replace 'er, then.
The Shipyard Owner takes a quick peek behind the workshop wall.
Sorry sir, I've 'ad a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're right out of ships.
Mal: I see. I see now, I get the picture.
Shipyard Owner: I still got a slightly used Firefly out back.
They pause, the Shipyard Owner trying to calm Mal down and get him gone, Mal thinking about what he had considered ever since he spotted that beautiful craft that he hadn't had the time to examine further, spying her finely crafted form purely by chance.
Mal: Pray tell, does it fly...?
Shipyard Owner: You'll be needin' a decent pilot, crazy one'd help...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Nods of gratitude to Joss Whedon and Monty Python. Perhaps apologies are due as well...)
Author: Sam Timmins
Fandom: Firefly/Monty Python
Rating: PG-13 - Mild cussin' and somesuch.
Summary: Mal's FIRST new ship purchase was a touch rushed, which leads him to confront the Shipyard owner...
Timeline: Post-Du-Khang and Serenity Valley battles, pre-"Firefly".
Canon? Are you serious?: It can be taken as either parody or seriously. It's fancy-schmancy like that. It aims to misbehave.
Where did this insanity start?: This link - http://www.fireflyfans.net/thread.asp?b=2&t=14362&m=197305#197305 - Thursday, October 27, 2005 : 11:30 - in which QUEENOFTHENORTH went nuts and tied in "Monty Python's Search For The Holy Grail" and "Firefly". Blame her for this. I do. ;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A recently served customer passes the doorway, entering the Shipyard's workshop.
Mal: Hey, I wanna register a complaint.
The Shipyard Owner does not respond.
Mal: Y'ello, Miss?
Shipyard Owner: Whaddya mean "Miss"...?
Mal: Sorry 'bout that, I godda cold. I wanna make a complaint!
Shipyard Owner: We're leavin' for lunch.
Mal: Enough of that crazy nonsense. Won't be goin' nowhere yet. I wanna complain about this ship that I purchased not a half hour ago from this here very anti-shiny boutique o'machinery.
Shipyard Owner: Oh yeah, the, uh, the "Norwegian Blue"...What's, uh...what's the trouble with 'er?
Mal: I'll tell you what's wrong with 'er. She's dead, that's what's wrong with 'er!
The Shipyard Owner looks out at the parked craft.
Shipyard Owner: No, no, She's uh,...she's restin'.
Mal: Look here fellah, I know a dead bird when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now.
Shipyard Owner: No, no, she ain't dead, she's, she's restin'! Remarkable bird, the "Norwegian Blue", ain't she, hey? Beautiful wingjets!
Mal: The wingjets don't enter much into it. She's a winged brick!
Shipyard Owner: No, no, no, no, no, no! She's restin'!
Mal: All right then, Mr. "NO!"-it-all...if she's restin', I'll wake 'er up!
Once they both enter the "Norwegian Blue", Mal shouts at the engine room's control panels while flicking switches that seem to do nothing that are supposed to do anything.
Mal: 'Elloooo, Miss Prissy Piston! I've got a lovely fresh mix o'workin's for you if you show...
The Shipyard Owner spins the engine.
Shipyard Owner: There, she moved! Saw't with yer own peepers!
Mal: No, she didn't, that was you spinnin' the cogs!
Shipyard Owner: Ah nevah!
Mal: Yeah, y'did!
Shipyard Owner: Ah nevah, nevah did anythin' o' the kind...!
Mal yells and flicks the controls repeatedly.
Mal: 'ELLO BLUEY! Testin'! Testin'! Testin'! Testin'! This is your nine ay-emm alarm call...!
Mal then takes engine cover panel off and thumps the electronics. Spinning the engine with his hands, letting go and watching as it slowly creaks to a halt, turning to the Shipyard Owner.
Mal: Now that's what I would call one heck of a dead boat.
Shipyard Owner: No, no.....no, she's stalled I tells ya!
Mal: STALLED...?!
Shipyard Owner: Yeah! You stalled 'er, just as she was warmin' up! The "Norwegian Blue" stalls easily, Cap'n.
Mal: What a crock o'go sa...now look here...now look son, I've definitely had enough of this, y'get me? That engine is definitely deceased, and when I bought it not half an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein' drained and stretched to it's limit following a prolonged and difficult test flight.
Shipyard Owner: Well, she's...she's, ah...probably pinin' for the Fjord Colony runs.
Mal: PININ' for the FJORD COLONY RUNS...?! What kind of talkin' is that?! Look, why did she fall flat on 'er back the moment I got 'er hoverin'?
Shipyard Owner: The "Norwegian Blue" prefers keepin' on 'er back! Remarkable boat, ain't it sir? Lovely paintwork...!
Mal: Look, I took the liberty of examinin' that there ship when I got 'er back t'base, and I discovered that th' only reason that she'd been hoverin' on her be-hind in the first place was that she'd been magnetically suspended there!
They both pause in a moment of silence.
Shipyard Owner: Well, o'course it were Magspended there! If I hadn't Magspended that bird up, it could've blasted up to th' other wrecks, smashed 'em apart with its fore, and VOOM! Fwhooooooooshhh!
Mal: "VOOM"...?! Look 'ere, this ship wouldn't "voom" if y' put four million volts through 'er! She's gorram demised!
Shipyard Owner: No, no! She's pinin'!
Mal: Will you listen to me you crazy-ass po dung?! She ain't pinin'! She's passed on! This boat is no more! She has ceased t'be! She's expired and gone to meet 'er maker! She's a stiff! Bereft of life, She rests in pieces! If you 'adn't Magspended 'er to the sky, she'd be pushin' up the daisies! 'Er Fusion based processes are now nucle'r fumes! She's off the sky! She's kicked the bucket, she's shuffled off 'er mortal machine coil, run down the curt'n and joined the gorram choir invisible! THIS IS AN EX-SPACECRAFT...!
They both pause again, an awkward silence but perhaps also an unspoken agreement.
Shipyard Owner: Well, I better replace 'er, then.
The Shipyard Owner takes a quick peek behind the workshop wall.
Sorry sir, I've 'ad a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're right out of ships.
Mal: I see. I see now, I get the picture.
Shipyard Owner: I still got a slightly used Firefly out back.
They pause, the Shipyard Owner trying to calm Mal down and get him gone, Mal thinking about what he had considered ever since he spotted that beautiful craft that he hadn't had the time to examine further, spying her finely crafted form purely by chance.
Mal: Pray tell, does it fly...?
Shipyard Owner: You'll be needin' a decent pilot, crazy one'd help...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Nods of gratitude to Joss Whedon and Monty Python. Perhaps apologies are due as well...)