I took a seat at the table in the meeting room while trying to stifle a yawn. The last two hours had been interminable and I hadn't been able to sleep a wink due the discomforts of sharing a room with Bubba.

I wasn't really able to shake him at the meeting either as he plopped himself down in the seat next to me. He looked as if he were reasonably refreshed although he still hadn't bothered to put on a shirt and the familiar smell of musty body odor wafted off of him.

The rest of the crew drifted in one at a time and took their own seats around the table. Finally Captain Marmalade made his entrance. He had changed into some sort of superhero costume that consisted of a skin tight purple spandex onesie and a flowing orange cape. He carried a large cardboard box with a notebook balanced on top of it as he made his way to the head of the table and took his seat.

"Is everybody here? Speak up now if you're not." He looked around the table for a moment before opening his notebook. "I take it by your silence that everybody is present. Good! You're all going to want to hear this. You guys remember when I announced we were going to assassinate the President?"

There was a round of assent from the table except for Bubba who said "Huh?"

"Well, I have good news! I've come up with a foolproof plan and in less than two days we're going to see it to completion."

This was met with a round of cheers from the table except for Bubba who said "What?"

And except for me. "Excuse me," I spoke up. "Could I just ask why exactly are we assassinating the President?"

"Why wouldn't we assassinate the President?" Captain Marmalade said. "Everybody knows all politicians are crooks. The President is basically the king of all politicians, ergo he's the biggest crook of all of them. Also, I've got a bit of a personal beef with him."

I couldn't imagine how or why President Crane would have ever interacted with the likes of Captain Marmalade. From what I'd heard the man didn't like to venture out in public for fear of encountering street performers, who were far too edgy for him to deal with.

"Wot did the bugger do?" Bigsby asked. "Make love wif' yer wifey?"

"Worse than that!" Captain Marmalade said. "The man's a litterbug!"

"Huh?" Bubba said.

"It's true," Captain Marmalade said. "I saw it with my own eyes. Some of it even got in my eyes. You see, I was tailing his motorcade one time on my moped, as one does, when I saw him roll down his window. I was about to speed up and try to pull next to him so I could tell him where to shove his taxes when all of a sudden a half eaten bean burrito flew out the window and splattered me in the face."

There was an audible gasp of shock from around the table.

"I would have killed him on the spot if it were me," Avery said.

"Oy! I'd have ripped 'is bloody 'ead off and spat down 'is lily livered neck!" Bigsby shouted.

"I would have carved out his pancreas and roasted it for brunch," Clancy said.

"Huh?" Bubba said.

"Believe me, I wanted to do all of those things," Captain Marmalade said as he raised a hand to quiet the chatter. "I would have, too, but the burrito blinded me momentarily and I drove my moped into a fire hydrant. Then to add insult to injury, he tossed out a used napkin. That bonked me on the head, as well."

"That bastard!" Marjey shouted.

"Well, he clearly deserves to die," Phelps said. "How are we going to do it?"

"As I'm sure you're all aware by now the President is going to be doing a dedication ceremony at the Intergalactic Capital Space Station. I've arranged for us to provide the entertainment."

"Oh, sweet," Avery said. "Is our jazz combo going to perform?"

"What? Heck no," Captain Marmalade said. "As if I'd allow that scumbag to be blessed with hearing our righteous tunage in his last moments. No, no, I've got a much better plan. I ordered some special outfits a while back and I'm pleased to announce they've finally arrived." He ripped open the cardboard box he had carried in and dumped a bunch of big fluffy pink tutus all over the table. "We're going to be a dance troupe!"

This was greeted by a chorus of murmurs from around the table before Captain Marmalade raised his hand again and silenced them.

"Now unfortunately they only had six left in stock, so we're not all going to be able to participate in the ruse. Apparently tutus are a really hot selling item. But it's just as well because if we're going to pull this plan off properly some of us will need to stay aboard the ship anyway to help transport us off and keep the engine running so to speak so we can make our escape before anyone realizes what's happened. So obviously I'm going to be one of the dancers. I'm going to need Legend along for his hacking skills. I'd also like Bigsby, Phelps, and Clancy to come along."

"Excuse me, Captain," Belladonna spoke up. "I would like to volunteer for this mission."

Captain Marmalade had to stifle a laugh. "You? No offense, Belladonna, but we're trying to convince these people we're an award winning intergalactically famous dance troupe. I'm sorry but nobody in their right mind is ever going to buy you as a dancer."

"I was only a professional ballerina for fifteen years," she muttered. "Until the Cassiopaean Mafia barged into our rehearsal one day and lined us all up in a row and shot us all leaving us for dead. That is after they had made an example of my twin sister and strung her up from the lighting rig and beat her to a bloody pulp with tire irons. I survived a bullet to the head. The rest of my group was not so lucky. I swore vengeance on the perpetrators and I have not forgotten. Have you, Captain Marmalade? You swore to me when I joined your crew that I would see justice served."

"Yeah, yeah," Captain Marmalade said dismissively. "You bring this up at every meeting. How could I forget? Maybe you've forgotten that we haven't been anywhere in the vicinity of Cassiopeia since you joined. It's on the list. We're getting to it. Don't worry. It doesn't change the fact that you're just not credible as a dancer. You'll blow our cover within seconds. Besides, you're the best at operating the transporter. I need you here on the Flying Fist of Righteousness."

She muttered something under her breath, most of which I didn't get, although I'm pretty sure I heard "gobsmacking gopher cojones" a couple of times.

"No, we need someone who can really sell the image of a lithe, graceful dancer. For that reason I want Bubba with us."

"Huh?" Bubba said.

"Marjey, I'm going to need you to keep an eye on the ship. Make sure everything's in tip-top working order. Avery, I'm going to need you to take the pilot seat and be ready to gun the warp drive and get us the heck out of there at a minute's notice."

"You got it, Captain," Marjey said while Avery made a grunting noise to signal his assent.

"Now the rest of you will distract the President with your smooth dance moves while Legend and I slip away and find the station's weapons cache. Undoubtedly it'll be in a secure room, but Legend here will hack our way through the system where we will be able to get our hands on some sweet laser blasters. We'll return with them, blow the President to smithereens and then Belladonna will transport us out before anyone's the wiser. It's a perfect plan and I'm one hundred percent positive nothing will go wrong!"