Ep 9. Santa Clownza

Captain's Log: Star date's getting paid by the hour and she runs on batteries...Ah, vacation. A time when I can kick back, get drunk, and engage in elaborate frauds on the public. Now, I know what you're saying: That sounds suspiciously like my everyday life. But you're forgetting one key difference, which is that the accommodations are way crappier on vacation. This year I dragged Six, Gus, Whip and T'Nuk along with me to Gulibus IV, where I like to take advantage of the off-season specials. Problem was, the place was crawling with people the way T'Nuk's ass is crawling with lice. We were lucky to get cots crammed in the laundry room at the hotel. That especially sucked, because I wasn't gonna have hot vacation sex with Six riding me like a cowgirl on top of the dryers while my crew lay around and drooled at us in big-eyed horny envy. (It's not that I'm a prude; if I'm gonna perform in public I'm charging admission, and I don't pay my crew enough to see that hot a show.) Anyway, we quickly found out the reason for all the hubbub: The local idiots were celebrating something called "Clownza."