Jimmy "Rocket" Swift took a long pull on his health shake and pulled out a cigarette. After a deep drag, he let the smoke out and wondered how he never blew up with all of the saturated oxygen on the space station. "You know, when you think, you look really stupid." Jimmy turned and faced Sing. Sing was once known throughout the entire universe as "Sing the Soulless." It was rumored that he would teleport unwitting chumps from across the cosmos to amuse him in death games. No one really thought much of it as there were many unfounded rumors about Sing. Of course, one of those chumps was "Rocket." Sing had abducted Swift in just that fashion. After nearly succumbing to Sing's merciless army and assorted death traps, Swift escaped and journeyed the galaxy, seeking adventure. Sing was left to lick his wounds and plot his numerous revenge plans. "Well, I may look stupid, but this 'stupid Earthman' managed to depose you." "You had that idiot Bras take the throne and exile me. You doomed all of Mongu to be sold to a fast-food chain to become the galaxy's largest drive-thru." Sing cruelly poked his bony finger in Rocket's chest, making the aged spacesuit Rocket never took off or washed crinkle like wrapping paper. "You were a monster." "I was a grand and powerful leader." Sing took a long sip of his space-tini. "Remember the time you locked me in that vacuum creator and I got out only using my wits?" Rocket mused with faraway eyes and jabbed out his cigarette on the bar. "Wits? My traitorous daughter waited until I had to go to the bathroom and pushed the off switch, you moron." "Oh yeah. Who in their right mind gives a death trap an off switch?" A small cylindrical robot rolled out across the bar from a hidden hatch, cleaned up Rocket's ashy mess, and refilled both of their drinks. "Your daughter and I made legendary love to the three suns setting that night." "Oh man," Sing lamented, "it wasn't enough she was a slut, you understand. She was slut with bad taste." Rocket lit another cigarette and looked at the health shake like it was a fond friend that was saying good-bye. "I crap little scentless turds now, like a rabbit. It's all on account of the food pills." Sing turned away in disgust. "Can we go back to the topic of you and my daughter, please?" "She left me. She left me for a Trogon. They have five sets of genitals." "Sounds like her. Heh." A rare smile crept onto Sing's face. Rocket looked at his cigarette and sighed. He casually tossed it over his shoulder before collapsing on the bar and breaking into a violent, shuddering bout of jagged sobs. Sing looked over and downed his entire drink in one polite gulp. He gingerly patted Rocket on the shoulder as if he was afraid Rocket was contagious. "Look, I'm sure she'll come back. One can only keep up with a Trogon's sexual appetite for so long." "That—th-th-that was ten years ago." His sentiment was ended by a new wave of wracking sobs. "Oh." Sing plastered on his best impression of a concerned smile which made him look like he was unpleasantly surprised to realize he was sitting on a sharpened thumbtack. "Hey, remember that time you punched me in the face? That was when I unleashed the ice monster and you lit your sidekick on fire to melt it away?" Rocket sniffled. "…yeah." "That was fun," he paused, "for you, I guess." Rocket looked up, his eyes as red as booster flames. "Thanks, pal." He leaned in quickly and hugged Sing. Sing went rigid as if a bolt of high current was being shot through him. After an uncomfortable amount of minutes, Rocket relented. "That's nice," he said rubbing Sing's lapel, "what is that, Merkin silk?" "Velour." "Yeah, that's nice." He sat back in his high-backed stool and ordered a glass of Frigia wine, known the universe over for its ability to inebriate the imbiber quickly. "What happened to the health shakes?" Sing signaled for another space-tini. Rocket grabbed his bulbous gut with both hands and shook it at Sing. "What's the point?" he said, putting his flab down and lighting up another cigarette. Sing suddenly lunged at Rocket, hands splayed like a chorus dancer. "AHHHHH!" Rocket fell out of his seat and sent the full wine glass crashing to the floor loudly. He pulled himself up and angrily peered at Sing. "What the hell was that, you crazy bastard?!" "I thought if I scared you, you might have a heart attack. Your kind does have hearts, right?" "What? Did you just think of that stupid plan now?" "Well, the elaborate traps seemed not to work very well." "…and you made me spill my drink." "You know, twenty years ago, I would have just unleashed wave after wave of death-bots at you…" "Twenty years ago I had the body of a Greek god, a spaceship, and a woman's love. Now I have a gym teacher's body, cirrhosis, and an ex doing strange things with a sex monster." He cast a lonely sideways glance at Sing. "…they went all clanky-clanky and had laser eyes…" "You have to quit living in the past, friend." Sing shook himself out of his fantasies involving mechanized death-bots and screaming Rocket Smiths. He looked up with tears in his eyes. "We are on a space station going nowhere. We're in the bar of the station, going nowhere." "At least we cannot be bothered." Rocket smiled his all-American smile. Just then the entrance door hissed open and Sing's daughter and her hulking mass of sex monster boyfriend came in followed by a metallic humanoid robot with blazing red eyes. The pair looked over. "Loura," whispered Rocket and quickly looked back to the server robot. "One large glass of Frigia wine please. Sing. Sing! Did you see who just walked in?" Rocket looked over to his left, then behind him. Sing walked right past his daughter and began to shout at the robot. "Death-bot 29! You've come to rub it all in my face haven't you?" "Beep. Beep. Blip. Beep." "Oh, don't you come the bastard with me, you clanky monstrosity. Get out of my sight before I have you recycled into a bedpan." Sing walked back and took his seat as the dejected mechanical man slowly shuffled out of the bar. There was another space-tini waiting for him. Rocket was eager to start a conversation. "What was all that about?" he said leaning in with too much rapt attention. Rapt attention that left him oblivious to Loura and the sex monster, whose name was Franq and had a nice job as an administrative assistant, taking seats to his right. It was her ordering of a Xeric Smasher with a twist of lemon that startled him. She turned and narrowed her eyes. "Rocket?" Rocket's eyes darted left and right waiting for his brain and mouth to work in unison. "Oh. Loura. I didn't, um, see you come in." He swallowed noisily. "How have you been?" She giggled and put her arm around Franq. "I've been…good." Franq stuck out a scaly tentacle. "I'm Franq. Who are…?" Rocket bounded out of his seat, stuck out his chest, and sucked in his gut. "Rocket Swift, space adventurer. Maybe you've heard of me?" As Franq pensively stroked what could be considered his chin, Sing burst out with cackling laughter. "You over-weight, pellet-crapping, balding buffoon. You haven't had a decent adventure in fifteen years that didn't involve going to the grocery store. Heh." Rocket resigned back to his stool and quietly lit another cigarette. "Oh yeah, well, your beard looks stupid," he mumbled.