You WILL respect my authorita!!
With the replicators still off-line, Lt. Shan made another appearance in the Mess Hall.
By all appearances, he was a victim of Post-Leave Syndrome as those in Sickbay liked to call it. One antenna drooped noticeably.
He dialed a number, hit the replicator again with his fist, cursed, hit it again, and cursed again, before finally removing his drink. Then he cursed again and proceeded to do battle yet again with the replicator before removing a bowl of some oatmeal-looking substance.
"Hawhaw! How you feelin today, Shan?" a Peon snickered.
"A little blue today, doc," a second Peon answered.
"Hehe. How do you take your coffee?"
"Like I take mah women," a second Peon joked. "Strong an' black. Tan n' sweet. Dark and bitter with ground floaties in it."
"Hawhawhaw! I'll just wear it to go," the first Peon joked. "Make that coffee on me!"
Lt. Shan set his coffee down, cracked his knuckles, and calmly walked up to the Peons. Still with the air of creepy calm, he wrapped a hand around the first Peon's throat and shoved the Peon right against the wall.
"Have you ever seen the inside of your own asshole?" he asked the Peon, between gritted teeth.
"What?"
"Say what again," Shan said, and gave the Peon a good shove.
"What?"
Second shove. "SAY WHAT AGAIN."
"What?"
Shan released the Peon, who fell to the floor, coughing.
"Ooh someone woke up on the wrong side of the blueberry patch," the other Peon joked.
"As for you," Shan growled at the other Peon. "It's time to stop masturbating in Engineering when you think nobody's watching."
He sat in the corner in his usual spot, alone as always, staring deeply into his cup and rubbing his temple with his free hand.
The Mess Hall, usually full of Peon laughter, went strangely quiet.
He finished it, and got a second cup, and continued to sit at his table and brood. The bowl of whatever, sat untouched still.
"I can't wait until the replicators are back on line," a Peon said, softly.
By all appearances, he was a victim of Post-Leave Syndrome as those in Sickbay liked to call it. One antenna drooped noticeably.
He dialed a number, hit the replicator again with his fist, cursed, hit it again, and cursed again, before finally removing his drink. Then he cursed again and proceeded to do battle yet again with the replicator before removing a bowl of some oatmeal-looking substance.
"Hawhaw! How you feelin today, Shan?" a Peon snickered.
"A little blue today, doc," a second Peon answered.
"Hehe. How do you take your coffee?"
"Like I take mah women," a second Peon joked. "Strong an' black. Tan n' sweet. Dark and bitter with ground floaties in it."
"Hawhawhaw! I'll just wear it to go," the first Peon joked. "Make that coffee on me!"
Lt. Shan set his coffee down, cracked his knuckles, and calmly walked up to the Peons. Still with the air of creepy calm, he wrapped a hand around the first Peon's throat and shoved the Peon right against the wall.
"Have you ever seen the inside of your own asshole?" he asked the Peon, between gritted teeth.
"What?"
"Say what again," Shan said, and gave the Peon a good shove.
"What?"
Second shove. "SAY WHAT AGAIN."
"What?"
Shan released the Peon, who fell to the floor, coughing.
"Ooh someone woke up on the wrong side of the blueberry patch," the other Peon joked.
"As for you," Shan growled at the other Peon. "It's time to stop masturbating in Engineering when you think nobody's watching."
He sat in the corner in his usual spot, alone as always, staring deeply into his cup and rubbing his temple with his free hand.
The Mess Hall, usually full of Peon laughter, went strangely quiet.
He finished it, and got a second cup, and continued to sit at his table and brood. The bowl of whatever, sat untouched still.
"I can't wait until the replicators are back on line," a Peon said, softly.