I gave up the theatre for THIS?

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Antonio," soothed Ubermilf, smiling tenderly at the young and easily startled Perreira. "Go sweep the galley and expel the garbage. And remember to reset the vacuum lock this time." With an uneasy glance backward, Perreira did as he was told.

No sooner had Master P exited the command center, Lt. Ubermilf turned to Piebeard.

"What do you suppose he's up to?" she anxiously asked Piebeard.

"Hmmm?" Piebeard distractedly answered, without looking up from his hand-held holographic gaming device. He found great comfort in avoidance.

"Beefheart. Why do you think he wants WhiteBoy on board? Shouldn't that be our last resort? We can't be that desperate already!" Ubermilf sank into the co-pilot's chair, and dejectedly cradled her chin in her hands.

"I should never have left the theatre," she grumbled.

"You probably only had another year or so before you got too old for the good roles, anyway," answered Piebeard, displaying his usual skill with the ladies in his bumbling attempt at comforting her.

Ubermilf lept angrily to her feet, "You make Beefheart look like a genius," she snarled, before stomping away.

"What's her problem?" Piebeard asked, of no one in particular.