An announcement

> "Just one more chance sir, it is all i ask, and if we can gather enough
fuel
> to get BD moving again, all the better"
> "Fine, " Whitewolf began to hunch over again, "Gather the pilots"
> Dean flashed Whitewolf with a cheesy grin "I'll get right on it!" and he
> skiped delightedly off towards the lifts
> "we're doomed" Wolf mumbled, his body now in total 'hunchback' mode.
"There's only one little problem," Cerebrum announced. "I haven't been paid
yet, so I'm forced to do this."
Cerebrum removed a sheet of paper from his pocket, and unfolded it. The
paper was entitled 'Piloting Department's Psychatric results'. He smoothed
out on a table, removed a stamp from his pocket, and stamped the paper at
the bottom. The stamp read: Failed.
"All the pilots are grounded until further notice," Cerebrum announced. "You
can, of course, appeal your results to the Interstellar Psychiatrists
Association. I'm their representative in this region. It'll cost 2000
dollarpounds for an appeal. Thank you, and have a nice day."