Quarantine Lab Control Room Terminal 321-a
08.25.2337
INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL
Greetings. You’re asking yourself: Is this a trap or just a dead end?
You shouldn’t ask yourself such worthless questions. Aim higher. Try this: why am I here? Why do I exist, and what is my purpose in this universe?
(Answers: ‘Cause you are. ‘Cause you do. ‘Cause I got a shotgun, and you ain’t got one.)
Notably Unstable,
Durandal
P.S. If things around here aren’t working, it’s because I’m laughing so hard.
END MESSAGE
INCOMING MESSAGE FROM DURANDAL
Isn’t hanging around here getting a little bit boring?
Get lost kid. Scram. Ciao.
What are you looking for anyway? If you’re looking for a hidden stash of ammunition that was left here by the Martian insurgents three hundred and fifteen years ago, then I know that you shouldn’t look in Quarantine Storage. Who would hide huge amounts of ammunition in a storage area?
<<Since you have nothing better to do than hang out here with me, listen to a tune that I’ve been working on>>
(Sung to the tune of Whirling Death Spike’s “Big Blue Orchids, and Wild Blueberries”)
Dur-dur-dur-dur-an-dal.
Dur-dur-dur-dur-an-dal.
He ain’t no slouch, pal.
He’ll make you smile,
Or cry,
Like Leela did baby:
Airlock love,
Big blue orchids,
Martian skies,
And wild Blueberries.
Dur-dur-dur-dur-an-dal.
Dur-dur-dur-dur-an-dal.
He ain’t no slouch, pal.
Dur-dur-dur-dur-an-dal.
Dur-dur-dur-dur-an-dal.
He’ll make you ouch, Hal.
He’s got real guile,
Why Lady,
Did you have it daily?
Airlock Love,
No oxygen,
Suffocation.
Dur-dur-dur-dur-an-dal.
Dur-dur-dur-dur-an-dal.
He ain’t no slouch, pal.
(Repeat Chorus 11 Times, changing key with each chorus)
Get lost, before I get annoyed and teleport you out into space!
Durandal
END MESSAGE
JUMP PAD ACTIVATION INITIATION START
TRANSPORT WHEN READY
— everything above is 1:1 source · from blaspheme-quarantine · karnemir ↗