“I still don’t know why you need me in the air lock.”

“It’s like I told you. Something spilled, and we need you to clean it up.”

“Something.”

“Yes.”

“You want to be a little more specific? Is it liquid? Solid? Will it try to attack me and eat my face?”

“What is this, 20 questions? I have no idea. I’m just passing along what gets told to me. There’s a mess in the airlock. Someone has to clean it. You’re the low man on the totem pole. Grab a mop.”

“You and I are both at the same level, you know.”

“Yeah, but I’m busy as the moment.”

“Doing what?”

“It’s administrative stuff. It’s complicated.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look, just get on it, okay?”

“Fine. I just need to get a space suit on first.”

“No time. we have arrivals in, like, five minutes. Just get in there, clean it, get out. It’s not rocket science.”

“I have a degree in rocket science.”

“Good for you.”

“Okay, I’m here. With a mop.”

“You’re in the air lock?”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

“What? Hey! Open the airlock! Hello?”