A Bizzare Series of Incidents

Who: Chris...and anyone else mentioned
When: After the 'adventure' in the hangar
Where: Various Places
Chris stood gaping as he saw the large hole that had been blown in
the wall of his beloved quarters. Angrily, he stood muttering to
himself about the various unfortunate happenings that may befall the
person who he found to be guilty of such an act.
Unfortunately, he wasn't aware of the current circumstances with
regards to the scutters deciding to mutiny. If he did, he might have
been amused, finding the irony of how alike this situation is to the
terminator incredibly funny. However, it was not until five scutters
came around the corner with guns trained on him that he realised
something was up. They then proceeded to form a tight circle around
him.
"How did I NOT see that happening?" he said, more to himself than
anything, or anyone else around him.
The scutters then kindly took all forms of weapon and communication
on him at this time, so that lost him the large sword-like object at
his waste, the gun in the holster on his waste and, somewhat to his
irritating, his mobile.
"What the hell am I going to do with it if you let me keep it? Phone
someone? God forbid!" He shouted angrily at the lumps of metal that
surrounded him menacingly. "Who am I going to phone exactly? Who can
help me in this situation? I know, let's ring security! Oh wait,
that's me isn't it. Shit. My bad." He added sarcastically, his hissy
fit intensifying.
However, he followed, or rather, was somewhat dragged by the group of
scutters in the direction of a no doubt random place that he did not
know of, rather reluctantly, yet obediently, as he would rather avoid
the large guns that the scutters were holding were not prodded into
his delicate area.
"Would you PISS OFF prodding me with that thing??" He exclaimed at
the scutter behind him, that seemed to find it necessary to prod him
with the barrel of his gun every single time he chose to restart the
petty conversation about why they had chosen to confiscate his
mobile.
Conveniently, at about this time, a random EMP grenade appeared from
a room adjacent to the corridor. Chris dived for cover behind a large
wooden crate that happened to be in the corridor. The scutters did
not seem to notice it in time, and as it went off, they were all
suddenly immobilized.
"What are the chances?" he muttered to himself with a smile he wore
when he realised what a lucky git he was, as he lay on the floor.
Chris stood up, dusted himself down, looked at the scutters and began
to chuckle to himself. "Unlucky love" he said with a laugh, patting
the nearest immobilized scutter on the head as he quickly hastened to
retrieve his weapons from another scutter, and with a sense of
achievement, his mobile from another.
He peered into the room from which the EMP grenade had been tossed
but found no sign of anybody. "Thanks", he muttered to an empty room.
A few moments later, running down the corridor, he found himself
formulating a plan to try and contact the others. "I could run to the
security office, and issue a shipwide message...." he stopped mid-
sentence, and also stopped running, stood still, and then suddenly
remembered something. "OR, I could just use my mobile".
He felt in his pocket, finding the smallish square shaped object. "OR
not" he said, looking at it, realising that it had just been
immobilzed by the EMP grenade, as the scutters had been, so that,
when he opened it, the screen had frozen on an irritating picture of
crazy frog. "Security Office it is, methinks" he added, beginning to
run again.
Upon reaching the Security Office, he input his code on the door and
it clicked to indicate that it had unlocked. It opened as he took a
step closer, he entered and closed the door behind him. He immediate
turned his computer on, at which point, the floppy drive proceeded to
try and eat his ear.
"OI, that's MY ear? You understand? I NEED my ear. Sod off" he said
harshly, batting the computer down on to the floor and jumping on it
until the casing broke, and the motherboard flopped out onto the
floor, all the lights on the casing of the computer dying.
He then pressed the button for the shipwide speaker. "This is the
Chief of Security, Chris Harris, speaking" He said
professionally. "I'm aware of the situation that seemingly,
everything electrical appears to be attempting to either kill us all
of digest parts of us, or whatever else. ALL security personnel,
report to my office, IMMEDIATELY. By that, I mean the elite, not you,
Mini-Phil. Any other personnel who want to get involved, you're more
than welcome to join us, but if you get your knackers bitten off by a
toaster in the process, don't try and blame me, it's your
responsibilty. You have 10 minutes" he added, "Peace out"
<tag: Anybody fancy helping Chris?>