Tiny energetically danced around singing Philipe’s song and taunting D’irt:
“Roger was our cabin boy
A crafty little nipper
He filled his ass with broken glass
And circumcised the Skipper!”
D’irt took a swipe at the little droyne pilot. He almost had the little fucker before he danced away.
“I’m going to take that mop handle from your janitorial kit and ram it so far up your ssebooty that you’ll be eating pudding a month!”
“The Skipper! The Skipper! The mohel is gonna trim his Little Dipper!” Tiny danced down to engineering.
With a sly look on his little bird face, D’irt put on his new contact lenses, plugged the black droyne interface into the computer and disabled the lights and gravity.
“I’m coming to get you, my little sporty friend,” D’irt’s voice echoed through the darkness of the ship through the PA system. “I told you that you should have taken that Zero-G class with me when we were at the Lycee on Auitawry.”