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The Adventures of Joe: Space Ranger Action Hero 2.5

(Cut quickly to the interior of the NBNLFM. Among the usual flashy pile of lights and buttons, there is a noticeably flashier pile of lights and buttons that seems like it had recently been superimposed over a part of the older and therefore less flashier lights and buttons. In the middle of the new pile of flashier lights and buttons was a brilliant and flashy looking computer screen. Written on it in huge letters are the words, “Hi Dave.” Cut to narrator’s spiel about Joe and Steve’s surprise at the sudden arrival of the new and flashier set of buttons and lights.)

As Joe and Steve settled into their assigned seats and gathered their wits (this didn’t take long – the gathering wits part, I mean) they stared in surprise at the new set of flashy lights and buttons that had appeared on the console of the NBNLFM.

“Wow! What’s this and how did it get here!” Joe shouted in wondrous amazement.

Steve sighed, “Oh, I don’t know. It’s probably another unneccessary upgrade that appeared between the last story and this one to try and improve the quality and appeal of this disastrous art piece. But, I could be wrong… not.”

“Well, that’s marvelous!” continued Joe in his wondrous amazement, “I wonder what it does?”

Steve sighed again, but this time with even less enthusiasm. “It probably does just as much as the last modification did, which is nothing. Right now, it seems to be saying ‘Hi Dave.’ If you’ll recall, neither of us is named ‘Dave.'”

Joe tried to look as if he were in deep thought as he rubbed his chin slowly. “Um, hello computer?”

The screen went blank for a moment and then put up the words, “Hi Dave” in even bigger letters than before.

“No, no. My name is not Dave. It’s Joe, Joe: Space Ranger Action Hero!”

“I know,” wrote the computer, “I’m Dave.”

Joe looked confused, “Then, why did you say, ‘Hi Dave?'”

“I talk to myself,” the computer blinked, “Yes you do.”

“What?” said Joe.

“It’s a computer named Dave, that talks to itself,” replied Steve, “Simple, yet stupid. Why am I not surprised?”

“That’s right, Dave likes to talk to himself,” the computer answered, “Don’t you Dave?”

Joe sat there for a long moment and pondered his new discovery. “Okay,” he finally admitted, “I think I get it. Dave?”

“Yes I answered?”

“Take us,” Joe said as he peered into the bulkhead, pretending it was the distance, “to ADVENTURE!”

“Dave is sorry,” the computer replied, “but isn’t this an art piece?”

“Darn it!” said Joe, banging his fist on the console. By this time, Steve had fallen asleep. “You just couldn’t let me have any fun could you?” Joe shouted at the ceiling.

I tried to warn you Joe, but this is an art piece, after all.

“Well, I’m not giving up that easily,” said Joe looking around the cockpit, “Where are my three ‘magic’ buttons?”

“Dave says, Hal has them,” wrote Dave.

“Hal? Hal who?”

“????… Just Hal.”

“Who’s Hal?”

“He’s the plot techie who put in Dave.”

“Well, how am I supposed to use this thing without my magic buttons?’ Steve was snoring by this point.

“Dave does it now. Don’t I Dave?”

“Well then, do it!” shouted Joe.

“Do what? I don’t know, do you Dave? Nope.”

“Sssssnnnnnnxxxxxx!” said Steve.

“It! It! Fire this thing up! Send it somewhere!”

“Dave can’t. This is an art piece.”

“What does that have to do with anything? I doubt you have any more control over where this thing goes than I did, so just fire it up. Who knows? Maybe we’ll end up some place artsy-fartsy after all!”

The computer hummed for a moment, then wrote again. “Dave understands. Beginning start-up sequence…”

Then the whole NBNLFM started shaking in anticipation of the momentous plot leap.

“What are you doing Dave…” the computer wrote.

Joe sat back in his seat and gripped the edges of the armrests in heroic preparation.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you Dave…” the computer wrote again.

“Wh, wh, what are y, y, you do, do, doing!” Joe said to the computer in a badly acted shaky voice, that when combined with the shaking camera, should make the NBNLFM look like it was, well, shaking.

“Dave has a flair for the dramatic,” the computer answered, “Not to worry…”

“Owwww!!!” Steve suddenly bolted upright as a blue burst of electricity jumped out from a nearby console and struck him in the arm. “What was that for!” he shouted.

“Sorry,” wrote Dave, “It couldn’t be helped.”

Steve looked like he was getting all riled up and about to say something mean and vicious back to the computer. But before he could do that, the scene changed.

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