Oh Crap!
This is like deja vu all over again. But backwards.
Okay. I have the coast watchers standing by in their towers; got a couple of scope dopes watching the ether; a small cadre of my old SERE instructor buddies standing by to interrogate all delivery and/or freight type prisoners; and my two best security types (Archie & Marlowe) are walking post at the end of the drivew err, runway.
Any chance of slipping me the IFF code so I can give my crew advance warning of the impending DOOM.
Doom I say. Doom!
Dunno what all you old spinsters are up to, but I'm game. Lemme guess.
You're too cheap (and smart) to send me one of those baby poop mustard latherizers. You're unaware that I need a fifth of Gordon's gin every day - for medicinal purposes mind you, so it won't be that. Ahhh, got it! You're sending me some White Iron Ice Cream! Cool. I'm fresh out of that species.
Ground Zero - Manned and Ready. Condition Yoke set throughout the ship. Aye!