The doc, Muscles, tried to sell me a moustrap for 4 replicator credits.
I told him mice don't exist. He told me I was foolish and a danger to the ship.
He smelled like molten metal, and his eyebrows were singed.
I'm worried about him.
The doc, Muscles, tried to sell me a moustrap for 4 replicator credits.
I told him mice don't exist. He told me I was foolish and a danger to the ship.
He smelled like molten metal, and his eyebrows were singed.
I'm worried about him.
@jandrews Worry about yourself, Andrews.