THE SHORT HOUR S1E3: "the use of irony to mock or convey contempt"

I don't think DDS knows what a script is.

Sure, let's go with that. It's more just morbid curiosity about what the DDS would spit out than anything.

...that happened.

The fuck is in my hachix?

Edit: Er, wait, quick test.

Who else saw a salarian disappear into a portal?

I did, but I figured it might have been the Sengin and beer. Then you all posted.

Yeah, something tells me you're not hallucinating. Unless we're all going crazy... which would explain quite a bit.

Maybe he'll meet that volus, Dr. Zol I think. The one who went down the black hole just before the war.

Also, with all the mating references, the writer for this one was either human or krogan.

I just had a thought, what if they did a reality show from the perspective of some mercs or pirates or something?

...I would like to take this opportunity to assure all citizens that if the Citadel were ever to develop portal technology, we would NEVER allow random Salarians to jump through it before it was properly tested.

Campaign pledge.

I saw a salarian disappear into something. Now I'll admit I only did one year of spacetime topology at the Academy, but from what I remember of T'Plana's extrapolations of Hath's corridor theorem (which I think is more or less equivalent to this Einstein-Rosen guy's idea), if someone did create one that was big enough and constant enough to see, and it looked like that, it wouldn't be so much a means of travel as a means of suicide.

I'm keeping myself happy with the thought that, almost certainly, Dwick just has some madman with a virtual imagery rig somewhere in his offices, and this is the result. Like the man said, there aren't enough people interested in the hard sciences.

It's funny I get many names of human scientists in the French translation, do other species get the names of their own scientists too? And if so how does it translate in Vorcha? ;)

Strange that this portal doohicky looks like a constant explosion.
Strange?
Sorry, I meant awesome.

[There’s no sound for about ten seconds...and then this video starts playing. The following message floats across a marquee at the top:]

VISIT CERBERUS DAILY NEWS, WHERE WE ARE TOTALLY NOT AFFILIATED WITH CERBERUS OR OTHER CLANDESTINE SPY AGENCIES, HONEST heart ichabod

Damn, that video is catchy.

Who the fuck is Ichabod.

I say we just strap a camera to a pyjak and throw them through.

We don't pay much attention to the people in charge of this place, do we?

Meanwhile in the center of the galaxy...

One salarian glimpses a view of Sagittarius A* before freezing and suffocating to death.

This is my educated guess of where he ended up.

”Your assignment is to prevent Ms. Beauchesne from overdosing and Mr. Reave from murdering any of the staff.

You will fail at one of these two tasks.”

[Fade in, extreme close-up on a yellow, slit-pupiled eye.]

[Pirouette] ”He’s not gonna show.”

[Reave] ”Lies. As the overseer, it is his sworn duty to appear at any summons.”

[Pirouette] ”It’s...you’re a sworn duty.”

[The camera drone pulls out very slowly, revealing a quasi-trashed dressing room with debris, wardrobe bits, drug paraphernalia, and datapads strewn everywhere. Tethys Reave leans against a kaffe machine, which drips caffeine like a fatal wound, and folds his arms. His clothing is unusually conservative - although the whole ‘sacrificial loincloth’ getup is almost certainly underneath it, he has opted for a full-body black robe with absurdly excessive shoulder padding and a hood.

In the background, Pirouette is sprawled upside down on a couch. Her eyes can’t quite seem to focus on anything for more than a half-second at a time, and she twitches every few seconds. Her upper lip is stained dark red, and as her head lolls slightly to one side, a rivulet of blood trickles from one nostril.]

[Reave] ”That is a pathetic excuse for an argument.”

[Pirouette] ”You’re a pathetic excuse for an argument.”

[Reave] ”Ugh. It is akin to matching wits with a child, minus the incendiary option.”

[He turns to the camera drone.]

[Reave] ”I am Tethys Reave, and this is the Sandblasted Gazelle Ploy.”

[A noise from the corridor catches their attention, and a moment later, DDS Assistant Producer Jarak ‘187’ Shar’Teil pokes his head into the dressing room.]

[187] ”All right, if this ends in another fucking prank for your show, there’s gonna be hell to pay. You get enough of a budget without having to maim my staff to--”

[All four eyes widen slightly at the sight of the downed Pirouette.]

[187] ”....Urakh. What happened this time?”

[Pirouette] ”I. Um. I’d been on the wagon for a wwwwweek.”

[The batarian takes a cautious step closer.]

[187] ”...and?”

[Pirouette] ”....I celebrated.”

[187] ”With red sand.”

[She grins lopsidedly, eyes squeezed shut, teeth stained the color of Reave’s scales.]

[Pirouette] ”.....eeeyeeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.”

[In the background, Reave opens his robe, revealing that he has been concealing an enormous banana creme pie within its voluminous folds. He stalks towards 187 with catlike stealth.]

[187] ”Okay. Look, I’m gonna go get the triage team, and...everything’s gonna be all right, okay? Chloe? You with me? Just stay awake, and understand, you’re not getting out of rehab after this one.”

[Pirouette] ”Yeah...yeah, guess that’s a fair cop, Goronak. I think you’d better turn around and get the medics now, huh....”

[187 turns just as Reave raises the pie, and the expected happens in a plume of exploding cream and unnecessary force.]

[Reave] ”Pie smash!”

[Showing remarkable lucidity, Pirouette twists on the couch, giving her just enough leverage to deliver an uppercut directly between the blinded batarian’s legs.]

[Pirouette] ”Nut tap!”

[A biotic backhand sends 187 to the floor, complete with a deafening “SMACK” noise.]

[Reave] ”Bitch slap!”

[He didn’t have far to go, being as he was already doubled over, and so he flails in pain and confusion as Reave and Pirouette cackle (weakly, in the latter’s case) and exchange a high five.]

[Reave] ”Excellent. You were taken in by our hoax. Once again, on the galactic stage of history, you were shown to be not only a spineless worm, but a fool.”

[187] ”....AAAAAAAAUGGGGGHHHHH. Holy burning wastes, I can taste bile...ohhhh...fucking...gods, did you fake an overdose just so you could get me down here and...oh gods it hurts...”

[Reave] ”...No, it is true that she is, in fact, dangerously intoxicated.”

[Pirouette] ”It’s like method acting!” (cough cough) ”G-go team...”

[187] ”Mother of shit. Ohhhhh, I think I’m just gonna lie here in the fetal position for a few hours...”

[Reave] ”That is clearly the fate you deserve. Savor the taste of your well-deserved defeat, and also of banana creme. All together now...”

[He raises a fist into the air.]

[Reave] ”I LIED, HOLMES!!!”

[Pirouette] ”I think I can feel blood sloshing in my lungs.”

This one believes that the other known as Pirouette should be rushed to a hospital soon. Otherwise it believes that the next headline will be about a reality HV star being found dead in a trashed room also occupied by a cream covered batarian who is experiencing extreme discomfort.

Though it supposes that this has happened many times before already.