No title could possibly be rated G

Who: Mk.9, and people in tag
Where: Parrotts, and Mk.9's room
When: A little before tag
Silence.
Then a gentle click, a whirr, and a hum. Mostly in that order, but it
can be hard to tell when in rapid succession.
Mk.9 ran his bootup diagnostic, yawned, and strapped on his katana.
He had been resting in his room since they had returned from Mars, and
had become lucid enough in his dreams to decide it was time to awake.
He was capable of dreaming and 'thinking-outside-of-the-box' thanks to
the organic parts in his neural circuitry, which could be oxygenated
through oxygen tanks when in a vacuum. But naturally, in the relative
safety of the Blue Dwarf, he was happy to breathe the regular air.
There was rarely anything more toxic than sarin in the air at any one
time, but decks 2 to 9, it was never possible to see more than 5
metres in front of you for all the smog. But I digress.
As Mk.9 stepped out of his room, he decided to head down to Parrotts.
It was, after all, set in his mind as the default place to go when you
have nothing better to do. His room was in a strangely barren part of
the ship. Few people lived in the rooms along its corridors, the key
word here being people. So Mk.9 found it strange that people were
fleeing into the section, usually closely followed by a giant pot
plant, or a CD with hair, or some such other bizarre contrivance of
science. He grabbed someone not apparently in imminent danger.
"Hey, what the hell is going on?"
"LET GO!" shrieked the woman, writhing about wildly. "The
hallucinations are coming. But they're REAL. OH GOD!"
Mk.9 released his grip and she stumbled back a bit, before regaining
her bearings and returned to running wildly down the corridor.
"Hmm, this must be dejavu or something. I seem to recall uploading
info from Hol' about this. Some kinda gas...or virus...meh." he said
to himself.
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The closer he got to Parrotts, the more hallucinations and people
running screaming he saw. But he didn't pay much attention. He had
gone down to Parrotts so many times, he knew the route blindfolded,
and so his visual field was filled with Half-Life: Episode 85. He
minimised it and looked down to see 'Headdy' Lamar the headcrab
sitting chirping at his feet, before climbing up onto his head, and
trying fruitlessly to couple with it.
"Oh goodie." he said, continuing onwards.
As he entered Parrots, his usually calm disposition was not only
broken, but shattered, battered, bruised, crunched up into a fine
powder, and mixed with the ashes of Michael Jackson at the sight of
Jay in a superhero outfit, Evil Jay similarly attired, an army of
Hymenopteran warriors, Plebian spider-robots and a Polymorph.
"Tara!" he yelled when he caught sight of her. "What the smegging smeg
is smegging going the smeg on?!"
"Short version, we were reminiscing."
"Ah."
Mk.9 had never noticed before, but the Hymenoptera looked remarkably
like the antlions from Half Life. Before he knew it, a pheropod had
appeared in his hand, and it was rallying about half the Hymenoptera
to his side.
"...Oooh-kaaaay. This should be interesting." said Mk.9.
Efof, who had been sitting at the bar enjoying the tiny hallucinations
he had been summoning on the bar top spun around to check out the
scene before him. Lamar gave up trying to couple with Mk.9's head, and
leapt to land on Efof's. It tried to envelop his head, and started
bobbing up and down to get the momentum to do so.
Efof gripped the bar firmly and grunted through grit teeth.
Mk.9, Tara, both Jays, and even the polymorph stared both wide-eyed
and open-mouthed.
"I...Is it..." stammered Tara
"Yes. Yes it is. Now let us all bury this memory deep within the
bowels of our skulls, and get on with this." said Jay, turning back to
the imminent fight.
"Ooh, a little bit to the left" said Efof
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