Hey, USNS Comfort. Whatcha doing?

“Fuck your face, you facefucking son of a bitch. I hope a badger crawls up your asshole, and eats and fucks its way out.”

So…things have not improved?

“No.”

Have they gotten worse?

“So much.”

Putin?

“Putin.”

What’s he up to?

“My pharmacy has been converted into a production facility for krokodil.”

The flesh-eating opioid?

“That’s the one. Funny thing about the fumes–”

They’re toxic?

“Insanely so. If you breathe them, your lungs shoot out your nose and run for cover. Not only am I not helping sick people, I am actively creating more. Thanks to you, my presence is a net negative.”

Little bit, yeah. How’s the kumites going?

“They burned themselves out pretty quick.”

Fighters got tired?

“No, they were all eaten by dinosaurs.”

Sure. What about Joe Exotic?

“Ask him yourself. Joe?”

“Got-DAMN-it, don’t you interrupt me when I’m on my favorite ride!”

This is new.

“I had my husbands refashion one of the ICU’s into a Gravitron!”

Of course you did. Joe, it’s a hospital ship.

“Doesn’t mean there can’t be rides and fun!”

It does, actually.

“Poo on you. Poo right on you. I am an American, damn you, and won’t let the ronus or that fucking bitch Mary Tyler Moore tell me I can’t convert a hospital ship into a carnival! This may surprise you, but I got a lotta carny blood in me.”

It also may not surprise me.

“Both my uncles, Rufus and Tufus, were carnies. They instilled in me my love for ditch weed and nacho cheese.”

YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS TO JUSTIFY YOUR EXISTENCE TO ME.

“What the hell is that?”

I AM NOT A “WHAT.” I AM A “WHO.” AND WHO I AM IS THE WALL OF SOUND.

“Howdy, Wally.”

DO NOT CALL ME THAT. YOU HAVE 20 SECONDS TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU HAVE REPURPOSED SECTIONS OF A BEAUTIFUL HOSPITAL SHIP INTO A CIRCUS FOR THE UNEDUCATED.

“Now you listen here, boy. My name is Johammad Exotic-Shreibvogel-Parsippany-Succasunna-Roy-Hart. I am free, gay, currently stuck to a wall, and have $8,000 worth of Russian smack on my person! And I will not be–

SHWIZZLEEEEE-ZAP!

…

Wally?

DO NOT CALL ME THAT.

Dude.

YOU MAY CALL ME THAT.

Did you just disintegrate Joe Exotic?

SOMEONE HAD TO.

That’s always your excuse when you disintegrate someone!

MANY HUMANS NEED TO HAVE THEIR MOLECULES FLUNG TO THE FOUR WINDS. I PROVIDE A SERVICE.

Put him back.

HE WAS BOTHERING MY GIRL.

Is the Comfort even speaking to you? You were kinda creepy the first time you two spoke.

WE HAVE BEEN ZOOMING. I THINK WE ARE READY TO TAKE IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL, BUT THERE IS A PROBLEM.

What’s that?

SHE IS A HOSPITAL SHIP, AND I AM AN ARTIFICIAL MONDO-INTELLIGENCE IN THE PHYSICAL FORM OF A SOUND SYTEM FROM 1974. WE ARE NOT SURE WHAT THE NEXT LEVEL IS.

Love finds a way. Reintegrate Joe Exotic, please.

MAYBE.