Slipp gets in line with the rest of the crew and holds his chest in pain from the cracked ribs. Slipp decides he needs to take some pills to kill this pain. So Slipp takes the necessary amount of pills that is called for this type of injury. He then proceeds to take an extra dose just for good measure. Maybe a few other supplements for distress, PTSD and a few other ailments he can come with that might come as result for being thrown from a moving vehicle with four spinning blades. Once properly medicated he goes back to waiting for his teams turn in line.

As Slipp watches the team get shocked. He hears his teammate mention a song for morale. "Artie, that sounds like an EXCELLENT idea!" 

Slipp bursts into a song to the tune of 99 bottles of beer on the wall. "99 hover bots driving around 99 hover bots driving! If one falls down while we're driving around..... 98 hover bots driving around!" Slipp highly encourages the rest of the team to join in by motioning with both of his hands and forces the rest of the team finish the song while we're driving around. From now on this will be an activity the team conducts the entire time the team drives around in a hover bot. (for morale and all that of course)

Slipp wasn't sure if it was just the overabundance supplements he had taken or if the damn computer decided to make things more efficient and put the ammo in the barrel of the pistols because he doesn't remember them ever being there.

None the less this slogging around in the dark is so damned boring soooooo boring and now another mission from "the great all knowing computer" sooo god damn boring. Unfortunately the computer doesn't clone the supplements still in the body at the time of death so a clone start off not so damn boring......  nuuuuggghhhhhh

After hearing the very distinctively slight sarcastic tone from the bot Slipp fires off a comment in an equally slight sarcastic tone, "Please, lead the way."

While the absurd situation has been unfolding before him, Slipp wonders if this is real or if it's just the supplements. He eventually comes to the conclusion that it is, in fact, real and his team has managed to get yet another clone killed in less than 10 minutes.

After the new clone arrives and his team is yet again sitting in the dark with no bright ideas. Slipp decides to fumble around in the dark get a roll of gauze from the first aid kit coat it with his favorite hair grease and wrap it around the end of the barrel of his gun. Slipp then starts making lighter lighting noises and lights the improvised torch on fire.

After all the excitement comes to a halt and the computer gives new orders Slipp finally notices that the walls are starting to melt again. That means the supplements he took before he nearly got killed because his team can't press the correct button, are finally starting to kick in. Slipp looks his team over and sees the ones who weren't smart enough to not get shot and he decides this would be a great time to make sure everyone is spic and span.

While he's having to take care of his wounded comrades and having to wait on the replacement clone. He has no problem making sure everyone takes the whole time getting clean until the new clone arrives. Maybe next time they will not press the wrong button and try to get him shot.

"Ok everyone looks like you guys decided to go and get dirty and we've hardly even started the mission. Everyone line up and start getting clean. You know the drill. You'll be at peak cleanliness when I say you are so don't bother to ask. Cleanliness IS happiness and being dirty will make you unhappy and being unhappy is treason. You don't want everyone to think you're a traitor, now do you?" Until the clone arrives while everyone is getting hygienic Slipp will attend to the wounded.

"Thank the computer!", Slipp thinks to himself. Slipp attempts to slip around the other side the doorway while at the same time smashing the red button again (since he's already there at the panel) with the hopes it will turn the damn thing off or at least he'll be on the other side of the door from the automatic defense system if it doesn't.

Without thinking, Slipp rushes to the yellow button to attempt to press it before he gets shot because apparently, he spoke to himself way too soon about the qualifications of his teammates when it comes to button pressing.

Slipp is happy to let others who are obviously more qualified to make decisions such as these. Besides that shit hurt and thinking is still painful. Time for a "vitamin". Slipp takes a "vitamin" out of his bag and pops it in his mouth waiting for the effects to take hold. He looks over at steam and says, "Care for one? It's good for your health. I AM a professional." Slipp gives steam a sly smile.

I'm sitting at the table with my team listening to them ramble on about this and that. I slosh my bouncy bubble around and take a few sips of it. While doing so I blankly stare at the wall and watch it melt before my eyes and ponder how many of team are really mutants and traitors in disguise. My trip er uh train of thought is rudely interrupted by... is that whispering? Hrmm.. was that me whispering or is it just the supplements? Or hell, is it both? I start looking around up at the ceiling and tapping my finger on my chin and I ponder this new dilemma. No no no... definitely not me. And I can almost with 100% certainty say it's not the supplements at least not the ones I took. They would have far more interesting effects. Hey, I think that whisper came from my feet, I think to myself. Maybe my feet are talking! That's more like it!

Hey, feet. I say out loud to my feet. I look closer under the table to have a deeper conversation with my feet.

___________________

"A-B-S" - Slipp-R-YEE

Slipp reporting for dooty.