In his usual, crotchety manner Charles had no appreciation for my exquisite efforts to keep him alive. He did not appreciate the best friend I had blessed him with.

“SNIPPY, STOP PLAYING AROUND AND ACCEPT YOUR FRIENDSHIP!” I admonished Charles. Charles was busy stubbornly refusing to accept his new best friend, struggling against true companionship.

The space friend I had provided for Charles had traveled far and wide before arriving at our doorstep, I realized. That was the problem. It had lost all manner of class and gained all manner of excessive boobery during its space adventures, now wearing the Biomatrix 117 label.

“sInGuLaRiTy kNoWn aS CaPtAiN.” Biomatrix spoke, producing a three headed, antlery skeleton from its mass.

“wE HaVe cOnSuMeD MaNy tO FiNd yOu, SpArInG OnLy yOuR PrOpErTy.”

I frowned at the skeleton. It had no pants on. It had no friendshippery-respects for Charles.

“YoU ArE HeReBy cHaRgEd wItH MaSs dEsTrUcTiOn oF InVaDeRs uNiOn sTaRsHiP AnD UnAuThOrIsEd rEmOvAl oF GaRmEnTs. HoW Do yOu pLeAd?”

“I AM A NOT FOR PROFIT ORGANIZATION!” I declared, bamboozling it for a few seconds.

"We HaVe nO TiME fOr ThEsE GaMeS." The Biomatrix commented.

“THERE IS ALWAYS TIME FOR GAMES! FUN IS THE SPRINKLES ON LIFE'S SUNDAE.”

“No. ThIs iS SeRiOuS BuSiNeSs. YoU ArE..”

“WHAT HAPPENED TO 116?” I interrupted the fleshy skeleton.

“116 ReMaInS On pLaNeT KuNzUhJaRn.” It answered. “wE ArE 117.”

“Games? We're supposed to be surviving! I’m getting strangled over here!” Charles whined.

“CHARLES, PICK YOURSELF UP BY YOUR BOOTSTRAPS! BIOMATRIX, YOU’RE NOT HERE FOR ME, YOU’RE HERE FOR CHARLES!” I yelled, trying to clarify the situation.

"WhY MuSt yOu iNtErRuPt uS WiTh yOuR ShOuTiNg?" The skeleton pressed on.

“THE CAPS LOCK IS THE MOST CAPTAINLY OF KEYS!” I explained, giggling.

"YoUr cHaRgEs ArE nOt A lAuGhInG MaTtEr!"

“I WILL ONLY ACCEPT THE CHARGES OF BEING A GOODLY FRIENDSHIP-PLANNER!” I waved my arms merrily. “HA HA HA! WHAT ABOUT THAT, HM? DOES IT MAKE YOU UPSET? ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO JOY, MISTER LAWYER? WHAT SORT OF A BORING SPACE-LAWYER ARE YOU, ANYWAYS? WHY AREN’T YOU YELLING OUT ‘OBJECTION’, ‘HOLD IT’ AND ‘TAKE THAT’?”

I had struck a nerve. The Biomatrix collective overmind was annoyed at me questioning its lawyerness.

"yOu MaY bE SuBjEcT tO FiNeS aNd LiQuAdAtIoN!" It stipulated, angrily.

“I AM ALREADY QUITE FINE AND LIQUID, LIKE CATS... AND LETS NOT FORGET, INCREDIBLY HANDSOME AND WELL DRESSED, UNLIKE SOME SPACE-LAWYERS. YOU WISH YOU WERE ME!”

"ThAt iS NoT A pLeA!"

“YOUR FACE IS NOT A PLEA! COME BACK AFTER YOU'VE TRIED SOME PANTS ON, YOU NINNY! DID FORGET THAT ALL GOODLY LAWYERS WEAR PANTS? I SHAN’T ACCEPT YOUR SPACE UNIVERSITY DEGREE TILL YOU DRESS PROPERLY!”

"IrReLeVaNt, yOu HaVe bEeN SeRvEd." The skeleton advanced onto me. I slapped its grabby hands away.

“IS IT ICE CREAM YOU WANT? COME CHARLES, LET US FETCH SOME ICE CREAM TO MELT THIS LAWYER’S TOUGH HEART MUSCLE!”

“Huh?” Charles looked up at me from his struggle with the flesh tentacles.

“NOW MR SNIPPY! GRAB MY BOOB!” I yelled.

Charles failed to grab onto anything, limited by his imagination.

“We’re so dead.” He whimpered. I stood there, waiting for him in my best superhero pose, looking quite like a boob. Some plans take a bit of time to come into fruition, I assured myself. True friendship takes time to grow.