Andy- 'Burnt fuzz'

Who: Andy
Where: Blue Dwarf, Parrot's bar
when: 30 minutes since previous post
The cleaner once more grabbed the next glass of beer passing by.
Customers were universally wondering why they weren't drunk and a man
in a cleaner's suit was gathering up more empty glasses than a
government-funded drinking contest between Germany and Australia.
Andy drained the slowly warming glass. Despite how many glasses he
sucked down, he was still yet to even feel the effects of
intoxication. This was odd as he'd already downed enough stubbies to
put a bull elephant into a coma.
"And now for your own perverse amusement-" Holly's voice slowly droned
on in the background; successfully sucking out all possible
entertainment afforded by performers. "Matron Hattie Jacques, and her
back flipping, fire juggling nuns."
A small pin prick in the back of Andy's mind caused him to look up
from his empty glasses and to the dance floor behind him. That name
was… familiar. It was almost like-. "No; wait!!" The bartender yelled
in horror as the nuns filed in. "Don't bring a naked flame in, the
broken-!!!"
Too late
A roaring explosion tore through the oxygen and alcohol rich air like
a super nova. The resulting shockwave threw Andy off his chair,
actually saving him from glasses of booze that self-combusted like
dominos. Within seconds everything that was so much as remotely
flammable was instantly up in flames. The screams of the occupants of
Parrot's bar was almost drowned out by the crackling firestorm.
The shell-shocked Andy stared out at the carnage before him. People
ran around in circles, resembling great flaming trees. Shards of glass
littered the ground like hail stones. All the while the various nuns
attempted to back flip the flame out. They didn't succeed.
As though the god of completely unnecessary irony had suddenly pitched
in, the disk track suddenly switched onto `Disco inferno'.
Andy groaned as he tried to pull himself together. The cleaner's suit
protected him for the time being, but not for long. Pulling himself up
from the ground saw a straight cut line for the door. With a
pronounced limp he began to drag himself through the smoky blaze.
Andy stole a glace down at his timer. The seconds where ominously
shaving themselves in half as it worked its way down to zero. By his
count he had twenty seconds before he fainted and was promptly burnt
to death.
Metres from the door, his arms out like Frankenstein re-born. He
grasped the nob and shoved the exit open.
This would be known universally as a `bad idea'. At the Bee gee's
chorus Andy was flung through the air as the back draft sucked in the
oxygen and exploded with lethal force.
With a grunt and a crunch, Andy was slammed out of the air by a
speeding sign. Falling faster than Michael Jackson's career he
face-planted into the ground whereafter he tumbled for a good five
metres before coming to a complete stop.
A good minutes past before the cleaner finally decided to get back up.
Andy raised a trembling hand to his throbbing face as he looked back
at what was left of Parrott's bar.
The doors of the establishment were blown out like as though a
steroid-laden team of footy-players, which had just been mocked and
teased with three kegs of beer, had shoulder-barged through at
terminal velocity.
Beyond than was pitch black. No signs of light shone from beyond those
doors, no fires, no movements, not even embers of the inferno.
The Australian man groaned as he got to his feet. "I just know I'm
going to be blamed for this." He lamented, gingerly cradling his wounds.
However, as he looked around for what he thought would be bystanders
in all directions, he saw nothing. Well, except for the corpses in all
directions. Wait- corpses?!
"What the hell is going on here?" Andy ventured uneasily. It was like
everyone had simultaneously fallen asleep. To be honest, it was rather
peaceful… if it wasn't for the fact that most of them were gored and
that he couldn't see their faces. No matter how hard he tried.
The cleaner stepped over the bodies like a car tire obstacle course.
From what he could see was that everyone in the entire promenade had
suddenly decided that it was the `make my day' day today and all
decided to bring bazookoids to work. Not a single body didn't have a
massive-laser related injury; and they were all very dead.
Andy's eyes searched for any signs of life. Nothing… there was no-one
here. "Dead… they're all dead." The realisation hit him.
"I'm not dead, you dumbshit…you got some change?" Well, except for
that hobo that beat the crap out of him. He was still alive.
The Cleaner decided to ignore the scary homeless man and continue on
with his lamentation. "Dead…I can't believe it… they're all- wait-
Holly!" Andy's mind sparked. The ship hadn't shut down, that meant
that surely Holly was still on-line!
Sprinting to the nearest terminal (later not sprinting, considering
how many bodies he kept tripping over) he quickly rapped the screen
with his knuckles. Yes, he may be an expert hacker but he still
doesn't have a completely hold on current technology.
"Holly, Holly!! You there?!' Andy wasn't completely sure what he would
do if he wasn't, running around the ship knocking on computer screens
wasn't most likely the smartest thing to do.
"`Sup dudes. Oh wait, sorry, can't help you right now," A very
confused cleaner stared at the image that showed up on the computer
screen. "-you see, I'm dead at the moment. Give me a week or too;
maybe I'll get better then."
Either the AI had just fragmented his last logic chip or Andy had been
stiffing too much chemicals (which was a very likely contender). For
whatever reason; instead of gazing upon Holly's glorious balding head-
he saw only a vertical coffin with the words `Holly' sketched on the
front.
This ship was going to hell in a hand basket.
"Holly… why is your head a coffin?" Andy ventured uneasily. "Oh no, my
head is inside the coffin. That happens when you're dead." Each word
was lip-synched with the coffin's door snapping open and closed. The
AI's head was indeed inside.
"If you where dead- then you wouldn't be talking to me at all!!" The
cleaner corrected sternly.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Oh, sorry, I'm kind of new to this death thing. Thanks for the advice
Andy."
With an electrical snap the AI disappeared.
Finally, Andy's anally retentive factoids had came back to bite him in
the arse.
The cleaner turned with a groan, placing his back against the wall.
With a deep sigh he slid to the floor in despair. "This is just great,
the crew is dead, Holly is bonkers, and there is no alcohol in sight.
What else can go wrong?"
"Andy! There you are!" A familiar voice yelled out to the cleaner.
"That was a figure of speech, not an offer!!" Andy yelled back at thin
air.
There was no mistaking it, somehow, Efof had survived Parrott's bar
and was now staring at him with an overjoyed expression on his face.
"Wow, I can't believe that actually worked! You must be seriously
emotionally needy for me to penetrate this deep!"
Andy glared back at the Alien, subtly hiding his hands (and fingers)
behind his back. "Efof, if you value your life, never have the words
`you, emotionally and penetrate' in the same sentence again. Now what
the hell do you want?"
Efof looked confused for a moment before his head jolted as though he
just remembered something. "What do I-? Oh wait, that's right- I
needed to tell you something…!" The multi-limbed alien paused for but
a moment, his two left hands snapping their fingers in remembrance
before continuing. "-You're in a coma!"
<Tagging Onion, Sorry about the wait!>