Thrust 3.

"So, what happens between episodes stays between episodes?" The Vagendra of Manocide relaxed on the ultrafluffy sofa of seduction and contemplated her almost empty Manlificent Coffee. Actually her second one since the first one the fork hadn't stuck properly.

Captain Seymour DickLogic checked the notes in the back of the book, trying not to think about page 13. "Apparently, unless there are flashbacks or worse, endless exposition explaining the situation or some such prior events that are significant to the perceived plot."

"You're reading that off something?" She leaned over the back of the sofa and tried to reach the cosmogalacticontroller for the telescreen. Quite unaware of the fabulous dangerous zone expose behind her.

"This colouring book the Doctor lend me the other day. It explains the essential parts of what makes a good story. Plot, character development, witty dialogue-"

"Gratuitous violence and stereotypes." She finished for him a moment before the sofa toppled over and she fell on the Carpets of Unmitigated Lusting. Her drink didn't even spill, although the fork sagged a little as the tines dissolved.

"Why?"

"We need to go shopping."

"Why?"

"I'm a girl. Girls have to shop, it's genetic."

Is it? Captain Seymour DickLogic thought to himself. Some sensible underwear might not go amiss. He wondered if that was she wanted.

"What was that? I'm sure I heard you thinking disbeliever thoughts!"

"I think it's called internal dialogue," Captain Seymour DickLogic held out the colouring book to The Vagendra of Manocide. "You're not supposed to know about it though. So you have to pretend not to notice."

Why hasn't he tried to rip off all my clothes? She thought to herself, then realised that she was wearing only an apron and had lost her hair bobble. I wonder where my hair bobble is?

The telescreen blurted into life, fortunately for the lolly, a shirt was hanging over the cosmogalacticamera. Unfortunately for the ensign on the bridge, it was one of those special shirts with serious side-effects. After a few strangled noises, "Captain sir. We will be arriving at The Loliplex Navel Trading Post shortly. Permission to shop?" The shirt fell off the cosmogalacticamera, fortunately after The Vagendra of Manocide had retired to the bar to make another stiff drink.

Captain Seymour DickLogic contemplated this manfully. This involved clenching of brows and furrowing of fists. All out of sight of whoever that was on the telescreen. It looked like it might be Communications Ensign Second Class, Slime Dispenser, but the hair was doing stuff. "Granted. In fact, seeing as we are about to leave Known Space on an extended science mission, the entire crew can shop in shifts."

"How wonderful!" The woman chimed, there were sounds of cheering in the background and someone whispering something about dangerous levels of effluent. "Captain sir, er. who is the child wearing only an apron drinking a margarita?"

"Wait, she can see me?" The Vagendra of Manocide asked, that didn't detract from her pint of margarita with no less than three cherries and a unicorn holding an umbrella.

"Yes," Captain Seymour DickLogic grunted, "literally. This is a book after all."

"Captain, should I send the truant officers?"

"They'd better be edible."

"No thank you Ensign. She's legal age." He could imagine the rumours that would start on the bridge. "in fact, if you could send someone with a spare uniform, size medium-lolly."

"Red sir?"

"Turquoise."

"Oh no, red is fine, it matches my eyes," The Vagendra of Manocide chimed in cheerfully. Red also matched the gun decks and it didn't show ketchup stains. "Regular battle shorts, none of those silly ensign nappies."

"Yes sir, right away sir. Er, Ensign Lovelyjugs is still missing." The woman on the screen scrawled tried to conceal the expression of horror, the child was medium lolly sized and wanted battle shorts and a redshirt? What sort of insane combination was that?

"She's a dangerous plot device, missing is safer for us all. End transmission." Captain Seymour DickLogic replied, hopefully before the medium lolly bottom was all over the bridge telescreen. Cleaning up after that sort of indiscretion would be expensive. Especially in full colour.

"Would you like to share my margarita?" The Vagendra of Manocide asked sweetly, "I have an extra spoon."