Twist

Inside the nearby Doom Bringer, WhiteBoyBob's chin dropped to his chest as he expelled a deep sigh of beery air, almost as if deflating himself into the bucket seat of the cockpit. Suddenly he thrashed upwards and outwards at every random surface he could find, punching, slapping, mashing and bellowing forth a primal scream as he did so. The various consoles began to error and bleep their warnings at him as lights flashed on and off wildly in his eyes. He slumped back in his seat again, exhausted from the outburst, but not feeling much better for it either.

"I ca'nt believe he's....gone!" He stuttered whilst wafting the smell of electrical burning away from his face. A small navi console to his right sparked randomly, it's screen rolling and parallaxing in hues of grey and green. Another stern whack stopped that though.

It was almost a tear-worthy moment if it had'nt been for the emotio-empathy-inhibitor he had fitted years ago during his time as a mercenary and freelancer. It was back in those blood soaked, whore-a-plenty, cash rich days that he had met Captain Beefheart who was at the time, serving onboard one of the Casino cruisers that orbited the new-build holiday planets, SKGNEZ1 and BLKPOL2.

---~!~---

"Twist!..." barked WBB as his cigar ash fell marking yet another scorch mark in the green felt.

A card fired forward across the green playing field to land face up infront of him.

"Sir draws a Jack.. Hearts.." droned the Tellerdroid in its synthetic-happy politicians voice.

WBB just stared, grinning, back at the silver domed dolt.

"Twist!..." came the order again and another card skiffed out onto the felt.

"Sir draws a Ten.. Spades.." it synthed merrily. Although programmed to show no emotion, the binary bit that knows whether the customer has won or lost the hand flipped over inside its head.

WBB reached and collected his glass and lifted it towards his mouth, never taking his eyes off the droid. He bit on the pink plastic straw and slurped some of the liquid, only pausing to knock the little cocktail umbrella out of the way with his nose. He replaced his drink on the table (not on the coaster provided) and barked his order.

"Twist!"

Immediately, the Tellerdroid sprang to life.

"Sir already has two cards which were dealt at the start of this hand, the values of which, have yet to be checked. In addition to that Sir also has a Jack.. Hearts.. and a Ten.. Spades.."

"Statistically.. Sir cannot have a hand with less than a total face value of twenty two.."
"Sir has lost this hand.. house wins with a total hand value of nineteen."

WBB paused for a second as if to contemplate the situation and then again voiced his request.

"Twist!"

"Sir.. Statistically there are no cards that I can deal that could prevent you from going over the already exceeded game limit of twenty one.."
"I am going to have to ask you to leave this gaming table before I call security.. .. xZZZzz.."

In a blaze of white neon flash fire and effortless motion the Tellerdroid was no longer a complete unit. From one of WBB's rings emerged a pulsing beam of light that had encircled his fist.

"Twist that you fukka!" Pouted WBB as he layed playful sucker punches into the droids head.
"Twist!.. Twist mutha fukka!"

Within seconds an alarm had been raised and a curtly dressed Ensign appeared beside the table escorted by a group of burly security guards.

"SIR! You have three seconds to get off that Tellerdroid before I allow my men to ruff-u-up"

With that instruction, the guards all began to resonate together with the hum of their freshly drawn taser-rods.

WBB stopped his arm in mid punch action, surveyed the smart young Ensign, counted the security staff one by one taking into account their sizes and weapon choice, checked his back pocket for something, scratched his head, tutted and then climbed off the Tellerdroid, gifting it one further parting blow before withdrawing his ring laser back into its housing.

Immediately the security guards were on him in a restraining pattern. Three on each arm and the others at the front and rear, preparing for a counter attack at any second.

"Take this scum to the Security Cells. Follow me!" chanted the Ensign and marched off through the crowds of on-lookers towards a large glass door in the distance. The security guards followed with WBB in tow as he snarled at the other punters, making one old lady drop her winnings and creating a stampede.

The Ensign tapped his security code into the keypad, leaned forward and to the left and placed his eye to the screen for the retina scan. Even he was not aware that in doing this he was also having his testicles scanned which scientists had found was even more acurate than a retina scan! It also gave a nice tingling feeling which all male workers found pleasant. And happy workers are good to have.

A chime issued and the security door slid open to reveal a long grey corridor with doors either side going off into the distance. They walked in and the door slid closed behind them.

The Ensign walked them down past three of four doors before pausing and performing the same retina/testicular scan procedure. The door slid open and he gestured to the guards with one hand and cupped himself gently with the other.

"Stick him in here for now until an Inquisitor Driod gets here to grill him later.. "

The guards bundled WBB towards the doorway. The Ensign caught his eye on the way in, raised one eyebrow and winked. WBB allowed himself to be taken into the room by the guards and escorted over to a rest area with restraining straps.

From outside the room, the Ensign looked up and down the length of the corridor once and then shut the door with the guards still on the inside. There were sounds of muffled shouting, ripping leather and cracking bones from inside and within a minute, WBB appeared at the door, with all but a bead of sweat running down his nose.

"Ello darlin! How much for a kiss on the bottom?" he quizzed, squeezing a spare cheek of the Ensign's arse.

"Yeah! Fuck you too fatboy!" Laughed Ensign Beefhart, sticking out a protruding black sportsbag he was concealing between his legs.

"Stella!" Grinned WBB.. "Right.. I got me shit. I got me new mate Beefy, now where's this vault you was talking about then?".

---~!~---

"That was over ten years ago" thought WBB as he sat back in his bucket seat.
"Ten fucking years... shit! That job still stands as one of the largest hauls ever in that quadrant. And then he blows his share on the SS Beefheart over there and goes all i'm a Mr Serious Captain on me!"
"And even worse than that, the little nonce goes and karks it too! Pah..Tosser!...."

"You ready to make the jump forward to scout the station for me WhiteBoy?" Chirped Ubermilf over the intercom.

"Does Owl shit in the woods?"

"Ummm.. thats open for interpretation I think mate, but i'll take that as a yes... see you in a few days. And be careful - we don't want to loose any more people on this mission..."

"Ok, Luv, keep your incredibly see-through knickers on. I ain't goin no-where quick. Unless I press this butto........."

With that last word WBB made the jump to hyperspace and was gone.

With the momentary transfer sickness passing, he began to check his systems for what he would have to write on the insurance forms as "accidental damage".

"Ten years.... tosser.... Ten years.......... TOSSER!!!" was all he could think to say as he fiddled with wires and bits of broken keyboard floating infront of him.

His eye was drawn to the image on the screen of the small Navi Console.
Normally during a hyperspace transit, these devices would not function... But it was doing something. A grey, green, changing, rolling image of a face could be seen. Like a fading transmission, it appeared it was talking out at someone.

WBB reached over stared closer at the tiny screen.

"Beefy? Is that you?.... What..the....fuck?.....".

A wave of nausea caught him unawares and he uncontrollably vomitted all over his trousers.

In hyperspace, no-one can hear you swear.