EPISODE LV - CHANNEL SURFING: OLYMPIC SPORT OR MENTAL DISORDER?
Chancellor Slile looked at the Wyzenhymer officer that had just relayed his report.
"The fire control systems should be able to handle the trouble in the fighter bay, shouldn't it?", he asked, his tone dripping with acid.
The young officer, sensing Slile's agitation, reluctantly answered the question. "With the docking bay doors unsecured, the fire repulsion system is proving to be ineffective.", he stammered, "The
chemicals are just being sucked out into space."
"Well, do something about it", Slile shrieked, stamping his undersized, petite, Wyzenhymer foot, "or I'll put you on report.", he added dramatically.
"Yes, sir.", the officer replied, spinning on his heals.
"What's the status on the transport we intercepted?", the Chancellor screamed to no one in particular.
A systems officer turned his nose less face to Slile. "We have them in the fighter bay at this time, sir, but..."
"But what?", Slile demanded, getting to his feet.
"But", the officer continued, "we can't get anywhere near it due to the fires."
The Chancellor strode over to the systems officer and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform, attempting to lift him from his seat. His nose less subordinate looked up at him as his uniform shifted marginally,
causing what, in Wyzenhymer terminology, was know as a "Melvin".
Slile adjusted his footing and again tried to lift the systems officer from his chair. Meeting no success, he released his would be captive and began stomping his feet again.
"You're on report!, you're on report!", he bellowed, punctuating each syllable with a stamp of his foot.
The systems officer shook his bulbous head, as he hastily tried to reset the fire control systems.
