"Well, I'm not going to break a nail over it," Tasha growled, knowing full well that she'd have crawled into the crankcase if he'd been Leonardo DeCaprio in swim trunks.
"Actually," said the man, pushing his thick glasses up with an insolent index finger, "that wouldn't necessarily be a danger if the circumferal distance between the spark plugs and the external combustion interlock exceeded the width of your fingers, as multiplied by the length of your nail, and then averaged to a middle percentage of 92847631.00000012."
Tasha bared her teeth in a most unattractive manner, and threatened the stranger with a half empty bottle of fire engine red nail polish, "easy for you to say - you can't get this stuff in red anymore."
Mollie blinked as sounds of shouting began to rise from the hanger.
"They're stealing the ambassador's ship!" came an angry voice from outside the open hatch.
Mollie gasped, quickly put two and two together and came up with 5 to 10 for grand theft. "Tasha, we have to get out of here, and NOW!" she growled through clenched teeth.
"Why?," Tasha sighed, fluffing her hair in the shiny relection of the fuel gauge, completely failing to notice its needle rsting firmly on a bright purple letter `E'. "We're not stealing a ship."
Mollie's eyes glinted, as she pushed her twin out of the way, and attempted to make sense of the console. "We are NOW!" she snapped, slapping levers and buttons and causing quite an impressive shower of sparks. "Damn!" she growled, poking a finger at the now frayed ignition wire, "Tasha, gimme your gum."
One of the buttons had, fortunately, closed the hatch, but they could hear the voices on the other side pounding against the metal and shouting for crowbars and guns.
Tasha yelped and skittered sideways from the man, who pretended he hadn't pinched her. "Look," she glared, "Can you start this ship?"
"Well," the man began, "if I carbonize the inferential..."
Tasha grabbed him by the wide lapels of his checkered sport coat and pushed her face near his, her eyes glinting with the maniacal on-the-edge rage she usually reserved for missed matching handbag/accessory sales. "Yes..." she hissed, "or no?"
The nerdly stranger gulped, passed a plastic comb across the front of his greasy hair, and tugged nervously at the top of one drooping argyle sock. "Well, yes," he admitted, his mind recalling a recent case in which a woman was acquitted of murder on the grounds of PMS. "But not when you're standing on my foot."
Tasha stepped back, fighting the urge to club him with her purse.
"There's something you should know." the stranger amended swiftly seeing the dangerous glint behind Tasha's contact lenses (his ex-girlfriend had that same look, but more about her later). "This ship's falling apart. It crash landed here in the first place - that's why I'm here fixing it."
"Crashed?" Mollie repeated, her heart sinking. "Can you fix it?"
"Of course," he said, insulted, handing her a business card, which she took gingerly between thumb and forefinger. As he let go, the card unfolded itself several times, until it nearly touched the floor.
"What's all this?" Mollie muttered, trying in vain to refold the thing.
"Oh," said Snerdly (for that was his name), "Those are my numbers, so people can reach me."
Tasha and Mollie read down the length of the card in surprise: "Home phone, fax#, beeper, pager, cellular phone, answering service, e-mail address (SSlimebottom@studsite.net), website URL http://www.candoanything/dork.html), business phone lines one thru six, CB radio frequency and walkie talkie."
"Do that many people really call you?" Tasha had to ask, shoving the card into her already overflowing purse. p "Well, actually," Snerdly shrugged, pushing his glasses back into position, "No."
The sounds of gun shots rattled against the metal hull of the space ship, as the rather aggravated parties outside tried to blast the lock.
"Why are they shooting at us?!" Tasha was nearly hysterical, and Mollie stepped closer, hoping she'd have to slap her.
"Oh dear, maybe it's my green nailpolish."
"I personally find that particular hue extremely attractive and arousing," said Snerdly, figuring that Tasha was still angry and a twin was a twin. Mollie glared, hoping she'd have to slap HIM. Snerdly leered unashamedly, then paused to turn on a monitor. "If you will observe on the viewscreen," he went on, "you will notice they are about to open the hatch with explosives. Perhaps moving forward into the cabin might be a good alternative to going up in flames?"
"Damn straight!" Tasha glowered, "I paid a hundred and eighty bucks for this perm!"
"We have to get out of here now!" Mollie shrieked as the men outside fumbled with one match. Mollie's eyes settled on a red button, blinking wisely on the console. It was labeled "launch" and her fist crashed down on it, just as the men outside lit their match at last.
"Don't DO that!" Snerdly shouted, falling down amidst a shower of business cards, as the ship gave a sudden lurch. "You haven't programmed anything into the computer! At this speed, we'll shatter the possibility shield - there's no telling what will happen!!!"
Mollie blinked, her hand still on the button. "At what speed?" she asked, as there came a terrific explosion.
The ship shot out of the hanger, through the roof of the building, into hyperspace and onto elsewhere. The travelers were flattened rather uncomfortablly against the nearest wall, and the ship rocked and creaked and groaned in haphazard disrepair. White bursts of light were infused with searing rainbows, which shattered into stars and left them, collapsed, in utter blackness.
Mollie was the first to speak. "Holy shit!!!" she groaned, "We cleared it."
"We did not," Tasha growled, obstinately, "we hit it and we are very, very dead. Dead is not good. Dead is bad!"
"Actually, came the voice of Snerdly, as his electric flashlight gleamed in the dark, "death cannot be measured in partiality."
Molllie and Tasha were of one mind as they turned on him. "SHUT UP!!!"
Just then, the lights in the cabin reappeared and all three gasped in shock at what they saw (especially Snerdy who had finally caught a glimpse down Tasha's blouse).
Standing beside them, as calmly as if she had not just materialized out of a deepspace explosion was a woman. (They knew this because Snerdly began to comb.)
Mollie and Tasha were speechless (a never before documented
experience), which was just as well, because the woman had plenty to say.