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The Naked Now

Oh, no, the ship has been flooded with a mind-altering contaminant brought aboard from some on-planet mission! (Good going, Crewman Redshirt. You'll see that in your pay this month.)

This contaminant has the effect of bringing to the fore the screeching, unreasonable, most likely highly embarrassing Id of everyone on board! Or maybe it just reverses your personality. How terrible and bad!

Feel free to be as hideous as you like. Or just giggle and make flower wreaths for each other. Or have silly slapfights with your friends oops sorry kirk.

P.S. Stacy is taking pictures.

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[It was a dark and stormy night in the city...]

[At least, Shoutarou wished it was. Enough of this damn clear weather. He's strolling the streets, collar high on a trenchcoat. He's sporting a five-o-clock shadow, and carrying a flask of something stout. He braces against a building and swigs, then puts the thing back in his coat.]

This soulless city holds many secrets... Secrets that can emasculate a man when he least expects it...

[And he's out to do what he can to fix it.]

[He'll find that damn ball if it's the end of him.]

[Don't mind the pyromancer passing by, Shoutarou! Ellyn runs past, giggling, gives him a big ol' smooch on the cheek, and droops a flower atop his hat before she skips off, waving as she goes.]

See ya later, cutie!

A woman from the past crossed my path. It was unexpected, and unsettling. I had not known her to be that way before. This city changes people more than I thought.

I was sweating bullets.

I reached up to my hat, pulling down the gift left to me, and peered at it curiously, then after her. My mind reeled with confusion, like a spinning top on a tilt-a-whirl during an earthquake. I could only say one thing.

...bye.

Suddenly, out from amongst the crowd came a tall brunette in a shimmering ivory dress. The whole shebang -- rouged lips, high heels, and a pout a man'd be hard pressed to say no to.

"Mr. Shoutarou," the brunette breathed.

My god, the dames were coming out of the woodwork like so many termites. This one, though - she spoke to me in more ways than one. This, this was a real woman, nothing artificial here. The Real McCoy. No preservatives.

I was sweating bullets.

I tipped my hat at the lady. I'm afraid I'm looking for someone with balls, miss.

"Balls?" Zouichi cooed. "I've got all the balls you'll ever need, and more -- if you'll help me with a little problem of mine, of course."

A dame with balls. I should've seen the warning sign there, but when you're in the heat of the moment, you plow right through those signs like so many barricades in a Michael Bay film. Heat of the moment gets intense.

By this time, I was sweating rockets.

I turned on my heel, hands in my pockets. Should I help? After all, if she had the ball I needed, this would wrap things up smoothly. What would I be getting into? There was no way to find out, was there? May as well just dive in headfirst.

...what would I be getting into?

Okay, maybe there was a way to find out. These 'questions' are damn usefule.

Zouichi tilted his head coyly to the side, raven hair brushing ever so slightly up against the top of his shoulders. "Mr. Shoutarou. You don't have to sweat rockets around little old me. I may look like a city gal, but I've got a good old country heart."

Then his demeanor became slightly more serious. "I need you to find a man for me, detective. A... very important man."

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