The damaged saucer ship drifted like a perforated hubcap through the void of space, its hull glittering in the harsh sunlight as it tumbled slowly.

Less than a hundred metres away, the cause of the saucer ship’s damage, the Drug Abuser, hung purposely nearby, its multitude of spiky weapons still armed and ready.

And gliding to a halt just above was the huge black mass of the mighty, but heavily damaged, Blenheim.

Peter the Ace looked at the image of the stricken saucer ship on the main view screen. “Blenheim, deep scan that ship. Especially the large flatulent chap inside.”

“DEEP-SCAN INITIATED.”

The image on the main view screen changed to display the results of the scan. The damage to the saucer ship was extensive. Its unusually small propulsion system had been rendered completely useless, and half of its outer hull resembled a crude homemade sieve.

At the centre of the saucer, protected by a still intact inner hull, was the bulbous hot mass that was the Fump-Fester lump-being, alive and very active.

Ross Mental wandered onto the bridge, swaying unsteadily on his new cyborg legs. He pointed at the view screen. “That fat fuck is up to something in there! We should blow his fuckin’ guts apart right now!”

“Interesting idea.” Peter the Ace said. “But first, I think I’ll give him a call.” He opened a communications channel. “Pys Phecees. This is Peter the Ace. Good to see you again. About time you surrendered, don’t you think?”

There was no response. The lump-being continued doing whatever he was doing.

“Rude fucker!” Ross Mental shouted.

Peter the Ace tried again, this time using a considerable amount of psychological pressure. “Are you too scared to respond? Don’t worry, I understand. It must be incredibly intimidating to have a bounty hunter of my stature and power close by. Your tremendous fear is quite normal. Maybe if you try some kind of herbal remedy to calm your nerves? I recommend Yabadaba Root tea with a sprinkle of desiccated…”

A guttural voice boomed. “I don’t fear you or any of your kind!”

The lump-being’s wide stumpy face filled the main view screen. His big black eyes blinked vigorously.

Ross Mental glowered. “You’re fucked, you fuck off fuckin’ freak of a fuckin’ lifeform!”

Pys Phecees’s tongue slapped across his lips. “My glorious weapon is still going to fire, you fool! It is you and all of your kind who are ‘fucked’!” The lump-being chuckled, his chins bouncing and flexing like a stack of half-inflated tractor tyres.

“Fucker!” Ross Mental screamed. “I’m coming over there and I’m going to rip your fuckin’ arse right out of it’s…”

“You don’t have the skills or strength to get anywhere near my arse, you weak stick of humanoid…”

Peter the Ace put his hand up. “Calm yourselves.” He said assertively. “Let’s all act a little more rationally, shall we?”

Ross Mental struggled to comply with his superior, barely managing to contain the immeasurable rage within him.

The lump-being spat hard. The image on the view screen blurred as phlegm dribbled across the camera lens on board the saucer. Then the image faded to black.

“Hmm…” Peter the Ace thought. He leaned forwards and operated his communicator. “Panman?”

The bounty hunter answered, his voice almost drowned out by an incredible amount of background noise. “Ace! How’s it going up there?”

“As expected. What’s happening down there? I thought you’d have finished all the cyborg construction by now.”

“I would have done, but I had a surprise patient, and she required a full body build. Justin’s on the machine now. He’s been rebuilt. He’s just being washed and polished, and then he’s done.”

Peter the Ace’s curiosity had been aroused. “Where did you find a surprise patient?”

“It’s quite an interesting story. Want to hear it?”

“Love to, but there’s no time. I need you up here. I’m afraid we’re going to have to fire one of our weapons.”

The delight in Panman’s voice was obvious. “Whoa! Be right there!”

It took Panman less than twenty seconds to get up to the bridge. With one of the most reckless somersaults ever seen, he leapt over Ross Mental and landed noisily in his chair at the weapons console. He activated every offensive system possible. “Ready. Show me the target.”

Peter the Ace pointed at the main view screen. “Our plump chum in the saucer ship, of course.”

Panman grinned. “Excellent! A version four CHUM Imploder should suck away the problem.”

“It would indeed.” Peter the Ace agreed. “But I want that lump-being alive. I suggest you puncture the saucer’s inner hull. The resulting rapid decompression should persuade Pys Phecees to surrender. The warrior babes used their projectile gun to good effect. Try ours.”

Panman nodded. “Projectile gun, eh? Why not!” He operated a few controls. A crosshair appeared on the main view screen. Panman moved the crosshair over the internal scan of the saucer to a point at the edge of the inner hull. The lump-being was at a safe distance at the other side of the saucer. “How about there?”

“Go for it.” Peter the Ace said.

Panman fired a single shot. There was cloud of sparks as the hypersonic bullet smacked into the saucer ship’s inner hull. A cloudy stream of air burst out of the hole.

“Fuckin’ yes!” Ross Mental exclaimed, punching the air. He laughed as Pys Phecees bounced frantically inside his saucer. “The fucker’s had it!”

Ross Mental spoke too soon. Pys Phecees found the leak, and plugged it.

“More fuckin’ holes!”

Panman followed Ross Mental’s suggestion. He programmed a ten shot burst, then fired. In what seemed like an instance, ten more holes were punched into the saucer’s inner hull. Jets of air escaped.

The lump-being reacted immediately, seeking out each leak. Each time he found one he managed to plug it. Within a few seconds he’d plugged them all.

Panman was frustrated. “How’s he managing to repair the hull so quick?”

Peter the Ace pointed to the view screen. “Look at the scan of the lump-being. The temperature of his backside is more than thirty percent higher than the rest of his body. It’s obviously very active at the moment.”

Panman realised what Peter the Ace was hinting at. “Yuck!”

“Even more fuckin’ holes!” Ross Mental shouted. “His supply of dung can’t last forever!”

Panman programmed a new burst of shots. He fired. The Blenheim rumbled as the projectile gun released a rapid spray of bullets. In a wall of sparks, eight hundred new holes appeared in the saucer ship’s inner hull.

“Fuck! Yes!”

The lump-being moved with remarkable speed, plugging hole after hole after hole.

Peter the Ace watched with interest. “You have to admit, that’s a very impressive attempt to nullify our attack.”

The pressure in the saucer was dropping appreciably.

“He can’t last for much longer in there.” Panman said. “By my calculations, he won’t get anywhere near to plugging all the holes in time. The reduction in pressure should soon render that fat bastard unconscious. I think we’ve got him!”

The lump-being had already plugged more than four hundred of the hull breaches. But he was slowing noticeably. It looked like Panman was right. But then the air pressure inside the saucer started to increase.

“How the fuck is that happening?” Ross Mental asked.

Peter the Ace looked at the sensor data. “Take a look at his backside again.”

Ross Mental looked. “That’s fuckin’ disgusting!”

The lump-being was re-pressurising his ship with his own anal out gassings. It was indeed disgusting. But it was also very effective.

“I’d hate to be in there right now!” Panman said as he programmed another burst of shots.

The lump-being had now plugged seven hundred of the holes.

“More fuckin’ holes!” Ross Mental yelled. “A lot more!”

“No problem.” Panman said. He fired.

Over the next three seconds, four thousand rounds punched their way through the saucer ship’s inner hull, many missing Pys Phecees by just a few millimetres. The lump-being started to plug the leaks. This time, however, the leaks were much worse. Many areas of the inner hull were now so perforated that they were unstable. Sections began to collapse, opening up large cracks. The air was evacuated violently, reducing pressure to zero in just a couple of seconds.

The lump-being farted harder in a valiant attempt to increase pressure, but it was an impossible situation. He would have had to pressurise the whole universe, and even Pys Phecees did not have enough intestinal bacteria to generate the quantity of gas required.

Even without any air at all, the lump-being still managed to plug three hundred more holes, and even one of the large cracks, before finally slipping into unconsciousness.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Peter the Ace spoke. “I think we got him.”

“Stupid fat fuck!”

Panman asked a very pertinent question. “What should we do with him? He’ll die in a few minutes.”

“We need to bring him onboard.” Peter the Ace said. “But our detention cells are too small for a being as large and repulsive as Pys Phecees. And we’d never get his bulbous frame down this ship’s passageways.”

A revelation hit Panman like a kangaroo punch. “The cage!”

Peter the Ace was slightly confused. “We have a cage?”

“Of course! Don’t you remember? Two missions ago on the planet Macid’Nah in the Ynos region. We had to capture that giant diseased cow that was terrorising local government officials.”

“Oh yes! An entertaining few days,” Peter the Ace said, reminiscing. “Especially the incident with the cleaning lady and the overloaded fusion driver.” He looked at Panman. “Are you saying we still have that reinforced cage onboard?”

“Yeah! It’s in the lower cargo bay, and it’s big and strong enough to hold that lump-being. Didn’t you notice it while we were down there with our snowboards? It takes up almost half the bay!”

“Can’t say that I did.” Peter the Ace said. He patted Panman on the shoulder. “Good thinking. I’ll depressurise the lower cargo bay and open the outer door. You contact the warrior babes and ask them to cut Pys Phecees out of the saucer ship and drag him over to us.”

Panman chuckled as he operated the communicator. “We’re doing so many cool things today!”