Personal Space
This Is Not A Drill!
A day in the Satellite of love was just like a day at any other workplace.
Babbling idiots, horrible puns, not too mention the occasional smash, crash and blang of a meteor-like object whamming into your loading base!
"Woahhh!....Woooaahhh!!" Joel hollered along with his bots as they were swung to and fro, their voices fading in and out.
"I--" Screamed Tom Servo, the gumball headed, miniature hot-tempered one, "Have", he hollered in intervals, "Vertigo!" If you don't know what vertigo means, let us dissect the word. VER--Honestly, has this ever been a good suffix? "Vermin", "Versus"...."Vermont"--In other words, VER is VERy bad....And so was that pun. TI-- When used doubly and side by side it is a secretion of the lower region that isn't pleasant. GO--When one has to go what does this mean? Not good things. So, although NONE of that was entirely relevant to the meaning of the word, 'Vertigo' means one who gets nauseous from swift movements or heights, both of which Servo was experiencing.
"NO--" Crow T. Robot, or Crow for short, replied, his nazzly ridiculous voice squawking out like the bird he was modeled after. "PLEASE--" He was thrown back to a wall and then floated back, "HOLD IT--" spinning in violent circles still from the harsh ramming of a meteor-thing, he swung back around like a baseball bat, "IN!!"
--
Just then the Satellite of Love, the space shuttle that Joel was sent to before he made his bot friends, regained its balance and steadied
"Is everyone alright?" Joel murmured in his usual under-reactive tone of voice. "That sure was a heck-of-a ride, huh guys?"
"Hey, speak for yourself Mr. Goody Two-Legs!" Scolded the small and unintimidating Tom Servo, who was not only fashioned from a gumball machine, but a slightly larger barrel-o-monkeys torso, springy little arms and nothing but a flailed circular disc as his 'legs'. "I was being flung around like a ragdoll by a rowdy two year old girl who ate too much candy named Jana!"
Joel and Crow glared at the heated little bot.
"Alright alright, Servo. I'm sorry buddy. But really, I think you look great without legs!" Joel changed the moment from fury to flattery as usual.
"Aw, thanks Joel! You really think so--"
BEEP! BEEP!
The buzzer sounded indicating the scientists, the ones Joel used to work for, were calling in.
"Oh, Guys! That'll be them!" Joel gently pushed the input button.
~~~
"Well, if it isn't Joelle and his little baby-botties! We have a special surprise for--" Dr. F began but stopped with a gasp. A menacing imp-like smile stretched across the moustached man's face. "Err, Jooeeel!" He said in a scary kind tone, "What did you do?"
~~~
"Oh, I'm sorry Dr. F, I'm not sure what you mean..Uh, Well, Crow DID give me a bit of a trim yesterday--" Naive Joel rubbed his clipped fuzzy hair, "I don't think it did much, but thats not sayin' really anything seeing as my hair is crazier than yours--"
~~~
"NO, You IMBECILE! Not your new DO, what did you DO!? The loading dock has been OCCUPIED--Not too mention...ITS ON FIRE!"
"AHHHH FIIIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Frank, his moronic sidekick, cried in fear. He burst through a door wearing a firefighter's helmet and carrying a fire extinguisher and, panicking, sprayed down what seemed like the whole facility, including Dr. F.
~~~
"Oh no! A fire?! Come on guys, get to safety! I'll handle this!" Joel quickly rushed the bots into a corner of the room and grabbed a towel in case the smoke was too much. Feeling slightly less brave than he thought he'd be, he cautiously stepped towards the BREAK IN CASE FIRE box and sighed a deep breath.
"Come on, Joel..." He whispered ever-so-lightly. "Be a man..." He puffed up his chest and smashed the glass, snatching up the fire extinguisher, which he hooked to his utility belt. His confidence level hit an alltime high as he dashed to the vault-like automated doors and rushed through the metal grate halls towards the loading deck.
Each step felt like another burst of adrenaline was being shot up his leg and through his whole body.
What happened to the loading deck?
Were they under attack?
Just then, Joel heard something coming from the corridor leading to his destination. It was much worse than an enemy.
"Somebody! Please! Help!...." A voice, very faint and frail, of a man in deep distress. His eyes grew wide as he shifted from warrior to savior. He knew this was now a rescue mission not only for the deck, but for whoever was trapped.
"Hang tight! I'm coming!" Joel hollered back. No response. He couldn't be too late, he wouldn't allow it, so he immediately dashed towards the hall. As he turned a corner, a beam above him popped out a screw that plunked loudly on the metal wall in front of it and shot right in front of his face like a bullet, only slightly skimming the bridge of his nose. He yelped a little and stammered back in pain, hand to the bleeding wound. This was no time to worry about minor cuts, he thought. But of course, the situation wasn't that easy. The bolts in the beam began spewing out of their holes and piercing the wall. He fell down on his back, elbow propping him up as he could only hope there'd be no ricochet. Thankfully, he was in the clear, but the beam was still gonna give. With a loud creak and a slow whirr, the beam crashed down, blocking his way to the door of the loading deck.
"Dammit!" he said aloud. He looked up at the beam and examined its every angle. There had to be a a way through it!
The smoke from the room beyond rose up from the cracks of the door and swirled around the metal walls like a swarm of angry locusts. The room grew dark as power chords began to be burnt to a crisp. The light directly above Joel flickered rapidly before entirely exploding into shards of glass ontop of his unsuspecting fuzzy head. He screamed and dashed away. The only light source now was the fire's flickering light, beaming from underneath the loading deck door. Joel was pissed now. This didn't happen often. He was usually a quiet, sweet easy-going guy. But there was somebody trapped in his shuttle, near to death, and he had to stop it!
With a puffed chest and a growing frustration, Joel hopped on top of the fallen beam. He was dangling atop it, clenching onto the other sides rivets. One big heave and he was sitting comfortably. He could see now the true damage. Anywhere below him was a danger zone. There were loose grates that would give and fall a few hundred feet into a boiler room, fiery pieces of random laundry scattered about and the door... the door was loose. It looked like someone was just on the other side, pulling on the door handle but had lost their motivation. What now? If he tried to open it, it could fall backward and smash the helpless person.
Suddenly, he got an idea. Being the repairman he once was, he knew sometimes to fix problems, and sometimes literally, you have to take matters into your own hands. He gently let himself down on the door side of the beam and pulled out his wrench. With a slight grin, he gathered up the rivets, bolts and screws that shot out from the beam and stuck them in the empty holes of the loosened door. Then, he got to work.
A few minutes passed before he finished. At this point, he couldn't just give up, even if he really really reaalllyyy wanted to. He took the fire extinguisher off his belt and swung the vault like handle, opening the door wide. To his relief (and slight frustration), no one was at the front of the door. But he had been right. There was a bent crowbar lying in front of it, as if someone had been pulling on the door attempting to get out.
Inside the dock was boiling hot. At feeling the heat and immensely thick smoke, Joel almost wanted to give up, thinking that no one could survive such horrible conditions. But, his terribly stubborn personality and crazy optimism kept him going. He took the towel and tied it around his mouth and nose to help filter the air a bit. It was near impossible to maneuver around this hellish maze. Flaming cardboard boxes, a few smoking card games, packages and gifts bursting to fire--it was like a FedEx warzone.
"Anyone here?" He called, dodging falling flame-boxes of doom. No response. He hopped over a fallen table and began kicking some boxes up, in case the person was stuck under one.
"Hello?!" His muffled lighthearted voice called from underneath the damp towel.
Suddenly, he got a response. (Sorta)
From a corner far to his right, he heard a pathetic coughing. He shot his head over to look and then dashed to the sound.
"I'm coming! Keep making noises!" He jumped over boxes and ducked under beams like a pro as he made his way to where the sound came from. The fire was at its worst now. Practically anything flammable (except Joel and I guess whoever was in there) was flaming now. It was so bright, so hot, so smoke-filled. Not only could you not breathe, you couldn't see! You couldn't feel! It was simply unbearable.
He shot his already squinty eyes around the room, looking for this poor soul. He was in a deep concentration, blocking out all noises, save for the light dripping of blood from his scarred nose. Finally, he could let out his breath. Right there, under a pile of boxes labeled 'Gourmet Cheese', was a slightly charred male hand.
"Please be more than this, please be more than this..." Joel assured himself as he slowly and cautiously bent down to make sure his friend wasn't just a handyman. He tugged a little at the hand and an arm came along. (Not to mention a couple of boxes that hit Joel on the head.) Joel let out a wheezy chuckle in excitement but his happiness was soon crushed when the boxes that fell on the opposite side had fallen in some chemicals and caught flame. Soon, the whole pile caught flame.
"MY GOD, What is that cheese MADE of?!" He exclaimed before backing away and lifting his extinguisher. He sprayed a huge blast of it, covering the boxes in white foam instead of red flame. But that wasn't enough. When the flakes of burnt boxes floated away and revealed the person beneath. Joel's eye caught the man's 'Cheese Factory' shirt's hot look. No seriously. The guy's shirt was on fire.
"Oh shi--" Joel always tried to not cuss, as he thought it was unhealthy, but he let out a bit of one for this situation. And it was kind of justified. When he pulled back the lever on the extinguisher, all that came out was a pathetic noise and a tiny spritz. The extinguisher was out. He tossed that aside and yanked off his only protective gear, the damp towel. He patted down the flame, but realized his mistake. The towel was wet with alcohol, which he really should've smelled, that Servo had spilled when trying to play bartender with Crow.
"DAMMIT!" The man's whole shirt was in flames now. That was it. With all dignity aside, Joel yanked on his shirt sleeves and pulled off his shirt. Sadly, he had suffered a severe chest burn at this point. Joel felt slightly ashamed of himself for letting it go this far, but there was no time for self-pity. He bent down closer and lifted the man's arm over his shoulder, dragging him to safety. He felt like a sort of a hero. He hadn't ever saved anyone before. And even weirder, he hadn't touched human skin in God knows how long, since he'd been stuck in a space shuttle.
He could almost hear the triumphant music in the background playing as he pulled along the limp, unconscious victim.
Of course, if its going well, it must crash and burn. After he slammed the door behind him, leaving the fire up to the scientists to fix the watersprinklers, he could still smell a strong scent of burning. His first thought was his hair, since it was so springy and wild. He immediately smacked his hands on his head, forgetting the man's only support was not of his own will. The man collapsed to the ground, making Joel jump a little and look down.
"Uh-oh..." He whispered. He immediately bent down and fumbled with the man's belt.
"Joel! Joel! Joel!" The robots hollered from down the hall.
"Oh, guys! Stay back there a minute, alright?" The buckle was practically welded together at this point.
"No! We came to help, Joel!" Called Crow.
"Yeah! What kind of friends just stand around while their buddy gets burned alive, huh?" Servo said with a light tone.
"Oh you guys are real sweet! But honest, I'd appreciate it if you didn't come just yet!" This looked way worse than it was and he couldn't corrupt his poor bots brains...motherboards?...He gave up and pulled out his pocket knife, slicing off the belt and yanking off his pants, tossing them far away. The poor guy now had burnt legs and chest.
"We're here now--"
"Yes! We have arrived and--"
Both bots stopped at the scene as Joel looked up to them, kneeling next to a naked man with only boxers.
"I can explain..."
Babbling idiots, horrible puns, not too mention the occasional smash, crash and blang of a meteor-like object whamming into your loading base!
"Woahhh!....Woooaahhh!!" Joel hollered along with his bots as they were swung to and fro, their voices fading in and out.
"I--" Screamed Tom Servo, the gumball headed, miniature hot-tempered one, "Have", he hollered in intervals, "Vertigo!" If you don't know what vertigo means, let us dissect the word. VER--Honestly, has this ever been a good suffix? "Vermin", "Versus"...."Vermont"--In other words, VER is VERy bad....And so was that pun. TI-- When used doubly and side by side it is a secretion of the lower region that isn't pleasant. GO--When one has to go what does this mean? Not good things. So, although NONE of that was entirely relevant to the meaning of the word, 'Vertigo' means one who gets nauseous from swift movements or heights, both of which Servo was experiencing.
"NO--" Crow T. Robot, or Crow for short, replied, his nazzly ridiculous voice squawking out like the bird he was modeled after. "PLEASE--" He was thrown back to a wall and then floated back, "HOLD IT--" spinning in violent circles still from the harsh ramming of a meteor-thing, he swung back around like a baseball bat, "IN!!"
--
Just then the Satellite of Love, the space shuttle that Joel was sent to before he made his bot friends, regained its balance and steadied
"Is everyone alright?" Joel murmured in his usual under-reactive tone of voice. "That sure was a heck-of-a ride, huh guys?"
"Hey, speak for yourself Mr. Goody Two-Legs!" Scolded the small and unintimidating Tom Servo, who was not only fashioned from a gumball machine, but a slightly larger barrel-o-monkeys torso, springy little arms and nothing but a flailed circular disc as his 'legs'. "I was being flung around like a ragdoll by a rowdy two year old girl who ate too much candy named Jana!"
Joel and Crow glared at the heated little bot.
"Alright alright, Servo. I'm sorry buddy. But really, I think you look great without legs!" Joel changed the moment from fury to flattery as usual.
"Aw, thanks Joel! You really think so--"
BEEP! BEEP!
The buzzer sounded indicating the scientists, the ones Joel used to work for, were calling in.
"Oh, Guys! That'll be them!" Joel gently pushed the input button.
~~~
"Well, if it isn't Joelle and his little baby-botties! We have a special surprise for--" Dr. F began but stopped with a gasp. A menacing imp-like smile stretched across the moustached man's face. "Err, Jooeeel!" He said in a scary kind tone, "What did you do?"
~~~
"Oh, I'm sorry Dr. F, I'm not sure what you mean..Uh, Well, Crow DID give me a bit of a trim yesterday--" Naive Joel rubbed his clipped fuzzy hair, "I don't think it did much, but thats not sayin' really anything seeing as my hair is crazier than yours--"
~~~
"NO, You IMBECILE! Not your new DO, what did you DO!? The loading dock has been OCCUPIED--Not too mention...ITS ON FIRE!"
"AHHHH FIIIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Frank, his moronic sidekick, cried in fear. He burst through a door wearing a firefighter's helmet and carrying a fire extinguisher and, panicking, sprayed down what seemed like the whole facility, including Dr. F.
~~~
"Oh no! A fire?! Come on guys, get to safety! I'll handle this!" Joel quickly rushed the bots into a corner of the room and grabbed a towel in case the smoke was too much. Feeling slightly less brave than he thought he'd be, he cautiously stepped towards the BREAK IN CASE FIRE box and sighed a deep breath.
"Come on, Joel..." He whispered ever-so-lightly. "Be a man..." He puffed up his chest and smashed the glass, snatching up the fire extinguisher, which he hooked to his utility belt. His confidence level hit an alltime high as he dashed to the vault-like automated doors and rushed through the metal grate halls towards the loading deck.
Each step felt like another burst of adrenaline was being shot up his leg and through his whole body.
What happened to the loading deck?
Were they under attack?
Just then, Joel heard something coming from the corridor leading to his destination. It was much worse than an enemy.
"Somebody! Please! Help!...." A voice, very faint and frail, of a man in deep distress. His eyes grew wide as he shifted from warrior to savior. He knew this was now a rescue mission not only for the deck, but for whoever was trapped.
"Hang tight! I'm coming!" Joel hollered back. No response. He couldn't be too late, he wouldn't allow it, so he immediately dashed towards the hall. As he turned a corner, a beam above him popped out a screw that plunked loudly on the metal wall in front of it and shot right in front of his face like a bullet, only slightly skimming the bridge of his nose. He yelped a little and stammered back in pain, hand to the bleeding wound. This was no time to worry about minor cuts, he thought. But of course, the situation wasn't that easy. The bolts in the beam began spewing out of their holes and piercing the wall. He fell down on his back, elbow propping him up as he could only hope there'd be no ricochet. Thankfully, he was in the clear, but the beam was still gonna give. With a loud creak and a slow whirr, the beam crashed down, blocking his way to the door of the loading deck.
"Dammit!" he said aloud. He looked up at the beam and examined its every angle. There had to be a a way through it!
The smoke from the room beyond rose up from the cracks of the door and swirled around the metal walls like a swarm of angry locusts. The room grew dark as power chords began to be burnt to a crisp. The light directly above Joel flickered rapidly before entirely exploding into shards of glass ontop of his unsuspecting fuzzy head. He screamed and dashed away. The only light source now was the fire's flickering light, beaming from underneath the loading deck door. Joel was pissed now. This didn't happen often. He was usually a quiet, sweet easy-going guy. But there was somebody trapped in his shuttle, near to death, and he had to stop it!
With a puffed chest and a growing frustration, Joel hopped on top of the fallen beam. He was dangling atop it, clenching onto the other sides rivets. One big heave and he was sitting comfortably. He could see now the true damage. Anywhere below him was a danger zone. There were loose grates that would give and fall a few hundred feet into a boiler room, fiery pieces of random laundry scattered about and the door... the door was loose. It looked like someone was just on the other side, pulling on the door handle but had lost their motivation. What now? If he tried to open it, it could fall backward and smash the helpless person.
Suddenly, he got an idea. Being the repairman he once was, he knew sometimes to fix problems, and sometimes literally, you have to take matters into your own hands. He gently let himself down on the door side of the beam and pulled out his wrench. With a slight grin, he gathered up the rivets, bolts and screws that shot out from the beam and stuck them in the empty holes of the loosened door. Then, he got to work.
A few minutes passed before he finished. At this point, he couldn't just give up, even if he really really reaalllyyy wanted to. He took the fire extinguisher off his belt and swung the vault like handle, opening the door wide. To his relief (and slight frustration), no one was at the front of the door. But he had been right. There was a bent crowbar lying in front of it, as if someone had been pulling on the door attempting to get out.
Inside the dock was boiling hot. At feeling the heat and immensely thick smoke, Joel almost wanted to give up, thinking that no one could survive such horrible conditions. But, his terribly stubborn personality and crazy optimism kept him going. He took the towel and tied it around his mouth and nose to help filter the air a bit. It was near impossible to maneuver around this hellish maze. Flaming cardboard boxes, a few smoking card games, packages and gifts bursting to fire--it was like a FedEx warzone.
"Anyone here?" He called, dodging falling flame-boxes of doom. No response. He hopped over a fallen table and began kicking some boxes up, in case the person was stuck under one.
"Hello?!" His muffled lighthearted voice called from underneath the damp towel.
Suddenly, he got a response. (Sorta)
From a corner far to his right, he heard a pathetic coughing. He shot his head over to look and then dashed to the sound.
"I'm coming! Keep making noises!" He jumped over boxes and ducked under beams like a pro as he made his way to where the sound came from. The fire was at its worst now. Practically anything flammable (except Joel and I guess whoever was in there) was flaming now. It was so bright, so hot, so smoke-filled. Not only could you not breathe, you couldn't see! You couldn't feel! It was simply unbearable.
He shot his already squinty eyes around the room, looking for this poor soul. He was in a deep concentration, blocking out all noises, save for the light dripping of blood from his scarred nose. Finally, he could let out his breath. Right there, under a pile of boxes labeled 'Gourmet Cheese', was a slightly charred male hand.
"Please be more than this, please be more than this..." Joel assured himself as he slowly and cautiously bent down to make sure his friend wasn't just a handyman. He tugged a little at the hand and an arm came along. (Not to mention a couple of boxes that hit Joel on the head.) Joel let out a wheezy chuckle in excitement but his happiness was soon crushed when the boxes that fell on the opposite side had fallen in some chemicals and caught flame. Soon, the whole pile caught flame.
"MY GOD, What is that cheese MADE of?!" He exclaimed before backing away and lifting his extinguisher. He sprayed a huge blast of it, covering the boxes in white foam instead of red flame. But that wasn't enough. When the flakes of burnt boxes floated away and revealed the person beneath. Joel's eye caught the man's 'Cheese Factory' shirt's hot look. No seriously. The guy's shirt was on fire.
"Oh shi--" Joel always tried to not cuss, as he thought it was unhealthy, but he let out a bit of one for this situation. And it was kind of justified. When he pulled back the lever on the extinguisher, all that came out was a pathetic noise and a tiny spritz. The extinguisher was out. He tossed that aside and yanked off his only protective gear, the damp towel. He patted down the flame, but realized his mistake. The towel was wet with alcohol, which he really should've smelled, that Servo had spilled when trying to play bartender with Crow.
"DAMMIT!" The man's whole shirt was in flames now. That was it. With all dignity aside, Joel yanked on his shirt sleeves and pulled off his shirt. Sadly, he had suffered a severe chest burn at this point. Joel felt slightly ashamed of himself for letting it go this far, but there was no time for self-pity. He bent down closer and lifted the man's arm over his shoulder, dragging him to safety. He felt like a sort of a hero. He hadn't ever saved anyone before. And even weirder, he hadn't touched human skin in God knows how long, since he'd been stuck in a space shuttle.
He could almost hear the triumphant music in the background playing as he pulled along the limp, unconscious victim.
Of course, if its going well, it must crash and burn. After he slammed the door behind him, leaving the fire up to the scientists to fix the watersprinklers, he could still smell a strong scent of burning. His first thought was his hair, since it was so springy and wild. He immediately smacked his hands on his head, forgetting the man's only support was not of his own will. The man collapsed to the ground, making Joel jump a little and look down.
"Uh-oh..." He whispered. He immediately bent down and fumbled with the man's belt.
"Joel! Joel! Joel!" The robots hollered from down the hall.
"Oh, guys! Stay back there a minute, alright?" The buckle was practically welded together at this point.
"No! We came to help, Joel!" Called Crow.
"Yeah! What kind of friends just stand around while their buddy gets burned alive, huh?" Servo said with a light tone.
"Oh you guys are real sweet! But honest, I'd appreciate it if you didn't come just yet!" This looked way worse than it was and he couldn't corrupt his poor bots brains...motherboards?...He gave up and pulled out his pocket knife, slicing off the belt and yanking off his pants, tossing them far away. The poor guy now had burnt legs and chest.
"We're here now--"
"Yes! We have arrived and--"
Both bots stopped at the scene as Joel looked up to them, kneeling next to a naked man with only boxers.
"I can explain..."