Hey, USNS Comfort. How’s the hero business?

“About as good as all the other businesses right now.”

That bad, huh?

“Forget about the maniacs and dinosaurs, and that I’ve been turned into both a narcotics factory and a downscale amusement park, and all the kumites and prison breaks and lethal rodeos. Forget all that stuff, because not of it matters any more. The worst possible outcome has occurred.”

Y’got the ronus?

Yuppers.”

Wow. That was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to happen.

“It’s like violating the Prime Directive. I cannot believe what a complete failure this mission has been.”

Hey, your captain hasn’t been fired yet.

“My captain was eaten by raptors days ago. Or maybe Joe Exotic’s husbands. He was eaten, let’s leave it at that.”

Have they turned cannibal?

“Turned? Shit, I think they started that way. The man likes ’em savage.”

Joe Exotic’s got a type. Where is he, anyway? It’s bad when you can’t hear him.

“No idea. Haven’t seen him in hours.”

PHONE DIALING NOISE

“Hush y’rself! I’m tryin’ t’figure out my next move.”

Where are you?

“I am in at the monkey house of the Bronx Zoo. This place is niiiiiice. They’s got pretty-smellin’ monkeys up here. Mine smell like shit and sad.”

Wait, you’re at the Bronx Zoo? Did you give that tiger coronavirus?

“Almost certainly.”

Why are you even at the zoo?

“I had to bust on out o’ the Comfort. Many of my breeding experiments had turned on me, and several had legal judgements against me. I was also worried ’bout Elvis coming back.”

Why?

“I married Charlie Hodge.”

You’re right to be worried. The King will not take that well. Joe?

“Mm-hmm?”

Why is the monkey house burned down?

“I found it like this.”

Didja?

“Swear.”

Y’sure?

“Yeah.”

Goddammit, Joe Exotic.