Paris Knox and the Order of Things

Prelude in Script Format

[Forward: This chapter is canonical, and comes before the main story chronologically, but it's in a different format than everything else, because it was the very first thing I wrote, back when I was so into podcasts I tried to write in the format of one. Kind of an interesting read, so I kept it this way.]

We hear the hum of engines and machinery, but all is quiet until a radio crackles on and someone speaks into it briskly, stoically.

PARIS
Good morning, oblivion. Today is the fourth day since I picked up the stray and welcomed them aboard my ship-

SASHKA
(Interrupting)
Tin can of death.

PARIS
(Continues as if nothing happened)
-and they have yet to do anything besides attempt ceaseless small talk that I never agreed to, and use entirely too much toothpaste.

SASHKA
I use as much as I need, thank you very much!

PARIS
As I was saying, they do absolutely nothing around here. Yesterday, I said, 'Welsh, turn on the engine thruster regulators.' They said, 'What's a engine thresh irregular,' and panic. We almost die in the cold, empty void of space.

SASHKA
(Whining, a little bit)
Paris, you aren't still mad about that, are you?

PARIS
(Deadpan)
Each day I slip further into insanity. I had hoped when they said they were 'happy to help' and would be 'no trouble at all' that they would be an effective space journey partner. You, void that I am broadcasting this message into, know all about the whole . . . alliance-enforced buddy system so no one dies alone in space. I don't get it. I think technology is advanced enough that I should be allowed to die alone in space if I want to.

SASHKA
Paris, this ship takes two people to run it anyway. You know the saying, it takes two to rango.

PARIS
(Pained sounding)
It's- the saying is 'takes two to tango'.
(Continuing into radio, sounding like a broken man)
That's the sort of thing I've been dealing with for three days. If I didn't know better I would think they're an alien. But that would be ridiculous. Aliens don't exist.
(Chuckles)

SASHKA
I don't think it's that funny. Aliens could exist.

PARIS
For the sake of my personal sanity, I'm gonna pretend they didn't say that. So, I guess I need to check the life support systems again.

Sound of typing.

PARIS (CONT'D)
(Muttering) Last night they were in the orange...

SASHKA
(Squeaks)
They were what?

PARIS
Nothing to worry about really, they weren't red. My baby may be a clunker, but she can make the trip. Only one day left. We'll be fine.

SASHKA
Again, tin can of death.

PARIS
(Sighs)
Well, I guess it's time to start good old . . . well, bad new daily maintenance. Captain Knox, signing off.