Lieutenants Hale and Marzak stumbled out of the turbolift, pulling at each others' clothing. Marzak vaguely registered the color of the carpet. It smelled fruity.
"We're home freeeeee!" He twirled on the tips of his toes, then staggared sloppily into the bulkhead. Hale groaned, hauled him off the floor, slung him over her shoulder, muttering darkly.
"Your...fault..." she huffed, counting doors. They staggered to a halt in front of door #3.
The all but fell through the door, Marzak rolling around on the 'pretty, pretty' gray carpet, Hale wheezing pathetically.
"Stop that," she gasped, as Marzak suddenly jumped to his feet and made a beeline for an open door at the end of the unusually spacious cabin.
"HALE!" The idiot's voice pierced her skull like a rusty nail.
"Go away."
"We need to use the rest of it. Haaaaaale."
Hale groaned.
'No space weed on the Finalizer'
They were so going down for this. Unless...
"How?" she yelled, the room blurring as she hauled herself up, leaning heavily on a table. "We have to smoke it, not eat it. Because it's special space weed."
"I found a bong!! Hale, whoever lives here has a bong!"
"...This isn't your cabin?"
"I don't have a bong. So no."
Hale headed towards Marzak's voice. He was in a (again, suspiciously large) bedroom that was done in mismatching shades of black. And more black. Marzak was cradling a vaguely round shape in his arms, rocking it like a baby, a beatific smile on his face.
To Hale's drugged-out eyes, it was an oddly-shaped (and slightly dirty) sphere with a vent and two (two?) holes.
"That's half a bong, dumbass."
"The rest is here!!" Marzak held up a hollow black metal cylinder from a mess of machine parts and curling wires on a workbench next to a table-thingy covered in ash.
Hale shrugged, ignoring the warning bells going off in her mind, and grabbed another one off the table. They tipped Darth Vader's helmet over, dumped the rest of the space weed inside, and filled it with boiling water from a beaker sitting on a convenient hot plate.
They stuck the tubes into the eyeholes, waited a few minutes, and inhaled deeply.
"Kinda gritty," Hale said. "Did it taste like this the first time?"
"Mmmph," said Marzak, smiling with utter bliss. He fell backwards onto the bed. Hale joined him a minute later, burying her face in black silk sheets.
When Kylo Ren re-entered his chamber two hours later, they were dead to the world. Except for Marzak's hand, which was absentmindedly fondling Hale's left boob. The helmet lay between them, and the entire cabin reeked of space weed.
Anakin Skywalker looked down on the scene with great pleasure. It was the best possible use for the thing, after all.
MISFIRE FILL: Genius
"We're home freeeeee!" He twirled on the tips of his toes, then staggared sloppily into the bulkhead. Hale groaned, hauled him off the floor, slung him over her shoulder, muttering darkly.
"Your...fault..." she huffed, counting doors. They staggered to a halt in front of door #3.
The all but fell through the door, Marzak rolling around on the 'pretty, pretty' gray carpet, Hale wheezing pathetically.
"Stop that," she gasped, as Marzak suddenly jumped to his feet and made a beeline for an open door at the end of the unusually spacious cabin.
"HALE!" The idiot's voice pierced her skull like a rusty nail.
"Go away."
"We need to use the rest of it. Haaaaaale."
Hale groaned.
'No space weed on the Finalizer'
They were so going down for this. Unless...
"How?" she yelled, the room blurring as she hauled herself up, leaning heavily on a table. "We have to smoke it, not eat it. Because it's special space weed."
"I found a bong!! Hale, whoever lives here has a bong!"
"...This isn't your cabin?"
"I don't have a bong. So no."
Hale headed towards Marzak's voice. He was in a (again, suspiciously large) bedroom that was done in mismatching shades of black. And more black. Marzak was cradling a vaguely round shape in his arms, rocking it like a baby, a beatific smile on his face.
To Hale's drugged-out eyes, it was an oddly-shaped (and slightly dirty) sphere with a vent and two (two?) holes.
"That's half a bong, dumbass."
"The rest is here!!" Marzak held up a hollow black metal cylinder from a mess of machine parts and curling wires on a workbench next to a table-thingy covered in ash.
Hale shrugged, ignoring the warning bells going off in her mind, and grabbed another one off the table. They tipped Darth Vader's helmet over, dumped the rest of the space weed inside, and filled it with boiling water from a beaker sitting on a convenient hot plate.
They stuck the tubes into the eyeholes, waited a few minutes, and inhaled deeply.
"Kinda gritty," Hale said. "Did it taste like this the first time?"
"Mmmph," said Marzak, smiling with utter bliss. He fell backwards onto the bed. Hale joined him a minute later, burying her face in black silk sheets.
When Kylo Ren re-entered his chamber two hours later, they were dead to the world. Except for Marzak's hand, which was absentmindedly fondling Hale's left boob. The helmet lay between them, and the entire cabin reeked of space weed.
Anakin Skywalker looked down on the scene with great pleasure. It was the best possible use for the thing, after all.
THE END