Space Lord Cesar Salamander runs his old school chum Ennui—er, Henri—who is now a galactic best-selling author. Over drinks in the hottest new restaurant in the quadrant, Henri and Sal reminisce over their schoolboy glory days: the nicknames, the jokes, the felonies.

AGAS is written by Matt Braman, and features the voices of Conrad Miszuk as Salamander, William Crook as QC Edgetest and Henri von Dumas, and Briauna Kittle as Det. LaFemme.

Music and sound by Matt Braman.

MFX 1: AGAS THEME – SHORT

SCENE ONE: INTERIOR SPACE MEGA-YACHT NARCISSUS – SPACE TIME

SALAMANDER: Q.C.Edgetest, where are you?

Q.C.EDGETEST: Right behind you, Space Lord Salamander.

SALAMANDER: Eesh. Quit creeping about like a grey ghoul and get me some sustenance. I am half past peckish and a quarter to hangry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m hangry.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Indeed not, Sir.

SALAMANDER: I am sure I need not remind you what happened last time I got hangry.

Q.C.EDGETEST: My circuit boards still bear the burn marks, Space Lord.

SFX 1: FIXING A DRINK

SALAMANDER: Then you understand the gravity of the situation.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Shall I poach you a bison egg, Sir?

SALAMANDER: No thank you, Edgetest. I have already vomited once this morning. (HICCUP)

Q.C.EDGETEST: Perhaps some ginger ale and a saltine cracker?

SALAMANDER: I am hungry, not flu-ridden, you benighted bed pan. (SCOFF) Ginger ale. I will take some regular ale, though. And pack it to go. I want to try out a restaurant I saw in the Space Gentleman’s Quarterly Gin and Vittles Gastro Blast

Q.C.EDGETEST: To which establishment are you referring, Sir?

SALAMANDER: Dorsia Prime. It is the hottest, hippest, happening-est spot on the star chart, renowned for its exclusivity and celebritous clientele. Apparently it is the favorite spot of that famous singer. What’s his name. Garduno Tentaculon.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Guapito Mandibulon, Sir?

SALAMANDER: Never heard of him. Point being, it is a place for the well to-do, and I am as well to-do as well to-do can do.

Q.C.EDGETEST: I shall ring them now, Sir.

SFX: COMM SIGNAL

SFX: ROBOT CHATTER

Q.C.EDGETEST: Apologies, Space Lord. They are booked solid.

SALAMANDER: They always say that. Tell them who I am.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Of course, Sir.

SFX: ROBOT CHATTER

Q.C.EDGETEST: They do not recognize your name, Sir.

SALAMANDER: Put me on. Listen up, you uncultured clipboard jockey. You are dealing with Space Lord Cesar Salamander, a celebrated author and the creator of the Salamander Shake. (SIGH) The Wiener Dance Guy.

Q.C.EDGETEST: They hung up, Sir.

SALAMANDER: The absolute temerity.

SFX: FIXING A DRINK

SALAMANDER: Food probably sucks anyway.

SFX: SAL’S RINGTONE

SALAMANDER: Ah-ha. No doubt the manager calling to beg forgiveness and offer a complimentary meal. Hello. (HICCUP) I forgive you.

HENRI: I’m sorry?

SALAMANDER: I know you are, and I graciously forgive you.

HENRI: Is this Cesar?

SALAMANDER: Space Lord Salamander if you’re nasty.

HENRI: Cesar, It’s Henri. From School.

SALAMANDER: Ennui? I say, old boy! I have not seen you in, what, twenty orbits?

HENRI: Twenty-five. Mandatory minimums and all.

SALAMANDER: That’s right. You went off to a meditation retreat.

HENRI: Space Prison, actually.

SALAMANDER: Twenty of one, quarter century of another. Either way, I bet your bench press is insane.

HENRI: You could say that. But I have moved on. I would like to take you out to dinner and catch up. Have you been to Dorsia Prime?

SALAMANDER: I hear it is overrated.

SFX: FIXING A DRINK

HENRI: Nonsense. It is fabulous. Clear your agenda. I have already reserved us a table.

SALAMANDER: (HICCUP) Splendid.

MFX: BUMPER A

SCENE 2: INT. DORSIA PRIME – SPACE TIME

ATM: FANCY PARTY

SALAMANDER: Nice choice, Ennui. This joint is pretty swanky. They even have a human bathroom attendant handing out towels. Strong fellow.

HENRI: It’s Henri. And there is no bathroom attendant here.

SALAMANDER: That explains the tug-of-war. And the used mint. Anyhoo. Time for a drink. A-hem, Garcon-droid!

SFX: ANDROID GREETING

SALAMANDER: Bring me a double moon whiskey. 25 millenia. Ennui, anything to drink?

HENRI: Just an iced tea. I am flying tonight. And it’s Henri. You know that, right?

SALAMANDER: Of course, good old Henri Von Dumas! Ennui is just a friendly nickname. Remember? How we all used to call you Ennui Von Dumb-ass? Oh what times we all had. You simply must have some moon whiskey. It has a sophisticated vinyl finish.

HENRI: I remember you calling me that. And again, I am flying. I will stick to iced tea.

SALAMANDER: Flying? How quaint. Can you not afford a droid? I must say it is damn decent of you to pay for dinner in such financial straits.

HENRI: My shuttles are vintage. Classic. I simply prefer the feeling of control. I do custom modifications as well. I learned a lot while I was in lock up. I assure you, I have plenty of money.

SALAMANDER: Delightful. Garcon-droid! I will have the surf and astro-turf. Extra side of truffle saffron cheese potatoes and a single clam. Plus one more of each in a to go cartridge. So, Ennui. 20 years in the hoosegow. How riveting. Tell me everything. How did you get in?

HENRI: You don’t remember the fire?

SALAMANDER: Oh, that’s right! You burned down the gymnasium after that streaking thing. You cheeky arsonist.

HENRI: The fire was not my fault. I was giving my inaugural address as the student body president. Someone attached a micro-teleporter to my uniform.

HENRI/CONT’D OVER…

HENRI: In the middle of my speech, they activated it and left me standing naked in front of the entire school.

SALAMANDER: Oh, I remember now. I spent so long planning that- planning to congratulate you. It was hilarious.

HENRI: Yes. Hilarious. I ran to the locker room to find some clothes and discovered the teleporter and my uniform stuffed into the vaporizer. The door was stuck open. When I tried to retrieve my uniform, the transporter fell in and, unbeknownst to me, started the fire. I was seen leaving the locker room and given my crushing embarrassment, the DNA on the vaporizer was enough to convince the school board and the Space Police it was I who burned down the gymnasium.

SALAMANDER: What a thrilling tale. You should write a book.

HENRI: I did. It landed me a deal with Irregular House Publishing. “Forced Behind the Field.” It was on the best seller list for three orbits.

HENRI/CONT’D OVER…

HENRI: My self-help followup, “Growing in a Plasteel Garden” did even better. Nine books later and I am one of the most popular authors in the spiral arm. I am surprised you didn’t hear.

SALAMANDER: I have been hard at work on my own career. I am a storied author myself.

HENRI: Really? I haven’t seen you in the trades. Who is your publisher?

SALAMANDER: I am, uh, self publishing for now. The corporate shills of the lame-stream media can not handle my hot takes and hard truths.

HENRI: You should submit something to my agent. I am certain I could persuade them to give you a chance. Do you have a manuscript?

SALAMANDER: Do I? Of course I do. And it is a doozy.

HENRI: Well, send it over now. You can access it from your holo-pad, no?

SALAMANDER: I do not have a holo-pad.

HENRI: What do you mean? You have one right there. You have been distractedly staring at it all night.

SALAMANDER: I mean, the manuscript is not on here. I keep it on, uh, paper.

HENRI: Paper? You mean the stuff trees are made of?

SALAMANDER: The very same. I find its tactile nature inspiring. My writing is a moving concerto of clackety-clicks, performed on a priceless antique typewriter.

HENRI: How delightfully retro. Tell you what. I have a book signing at Bays and Gallant’s on Helveticon Five tomorrow night. Bring your manuscript and I shall personally hand it to my agent. I’ll make sure you finally get what you deserve.

MFX: BUMPER B

SCENE 3: INT. SPACE MEGA-YACHT NARCISSUS – SPACE TIME

SALAMANDER: Alright. Manuscript time. Time to write. Writing time. Here we go. Hmm.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Shall I fix you a drink, Sir?

SALAMANDER: Dammit, Edgetest, I am trying to focus. Shut up and fix me a drink.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Right away, Sir.

SFX: FIXING A DRINK

SALAMANDER: I suppose I should start with a genre. Science Fiction, perhaps? Of course not. Only the most sophisticated, most intelligent, most sexually appealing audiences enjoy Science Fiction content (STARE AT AUDIENCE UNTIL THEY REACT). No, we need something for the common dullard with disposable income. Something the slack-jawed masses will lap up and regurgitate to their coworkers around the water replicator to make themselves feel smart. I know. Pop philosophy. Just take any classic philosophical school and mash it up with some common drivel. Something like “The Existentialism of Spiral Arm Star Singer Voice Battle Death Match, colon, An Analysis in the Key of B Sharp.” Splendid. It practically writes itself. Now, Q.C. Write it for me.

Q.C.EDGETEST: I am not programmed to write, Sir.

SALAMANDER: Okay, fine. Ghost write it for me.

Q.C.EDGETEST: I could attempt to produce a document, Sir, but I would merely be recycling existing works to create a superficially original yet wholly derivative work.

SALAMANDER: Exactly. Writing. Now get cracking, Nicholas Sparkplugs.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Very well, Sir.

SFX: BUMPER A

SCENE 4: BAYS AND GALLANT BOOKSTORE BACK ROOM – DAY

HENRI: So glad you could make it, Cesar. And you brought your manuscript. I shall hand deliver it to my publisher. Outstanding. Here, have some Wine. It’s a Lazer Bridge ’92. Excellent vintage. Oops!

SALAMANDER: Heavens Testicles, Ennui! Trip much?

HENRI: How clumsy of me. I hope I didn’t ruin your suit. It looks like-

SALAMANDER: Lemur skin. And yes, it is ruined.

HENRI: Damn. It looks really nice for a low-end fur. I shall have my assistant get it to the cleaner. In the mean time you can borrow this. It is a Holographic Display Integrated Clothing Emitter. Very stylish.

SALAMANDER: A Holodickey? I have always wanted one of these.

Q.C.EDGETEST: You had one, Sir. Its malfunction resulted in several injurious incidents-

SALAMANDER: I do not think I did.

HENRI: It only has one setting. A fashionable tuxedo that is sure to impress. Don’t worry, I programmed it myself. You will look absolutely topping. I have saved a seat for you in the front row. I have to get ready now. Ta Ta.

SALAMANDER: Well, okay. Hm. That is disappointing. A plain tuxedo seems a waste of a Holodickey. It is also bulkier than I expected. Stow it on the bookshelf with my manuscript. I rather think I shall don this.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Space Lord Salamander, is that a onesie?

SALAMANDER: Nonsense. It is a footed jumpsuit. Reflective cheetah print. Que Sexy, no?

Q.C.EDGETEST: Where did you get that, Sir?

SALAMANDER: My Plus One Dop Kit of Holding. You can fit anything in there.

Q.C.EDGETEST: I mean originally, Space Lord. I do not remember printing that for you.

SALAMANDER: I bought it from T.J. Max.

Q.C.EDGETEST: T.J. Max, Sir?

SALAMANDER: Terps Jostler Maxillon. You know, my drug deal- er, pharmacist. Night time pharmacist. Now zip it and zip up. This thing is tight as a tourniquet, but you know what they say. The tighter the package, the sweeter the snack.

SFX: VINYL SQUEAKING

Q.C.EDGETEST: Do they say that, Sir?

SFX: VINYL SQUEAKING

SALAMANDER: Do not sass me, you twisted towel rack. (STRUGGLING)

SFX: VINYL SQUEAKING

SALAMANDER: Ah. There we are. Now. Help me waddle to the front row. I can’t bend my legs.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Off we go, Sir.

MFX: BUMPER A

SCENE 5: BAYS AND GALLANT BOOKSTORE READING ROOM – DAY

HENRI: Hello, all. Thank you so much for being here. No need to push and shove. I am honored to sign for you each and every copy of my new book, “Space Prison Shmace Prison: How to Short Circuit the Force Field of Your Own Inhibitions.”

SFX: APPLAUSE

HENRI: I would love to take all the credit for my literary success, but there is one person without whom I would not be where I am today. Please welcome to the podium, my dear friend, Space Lord Cesar Salamander. Get up here, Cesar.

SFX: APPLAUSE

SFX: VINYL SQUEAKING

SALAMANDER: Help me, Q.C., I am stuck.

Q.C.EDGETEST: I am trying, Sir. Your onesie appears to have bonded with the chair.

SALAMANDER: It’s not a onesie. It’s a footed jumpsuit. (STRUGGLING)

HENRI: Come on, Cesar, don’t be shy. I want you to have the recognition you deserve. Where are you? The clock is ticking.

SFX: VINYL SQUEAKING

SALAMANDER: Here I come.

SFX: VINYL SQUEAKING

SALAMANDER: Do not mind the chair.

HENRI: (ASIDE) Why are you not wearing the Holodickey?

SALAMANDER: It was cramping my style.

SFX: VINYL SQUEAKING

HENRI: But the timer- I mean, the timing. You still have a few seconds to pop it on and come back.

SALAMANDER: Nonsense. I can not deprive these patient patrons the view of my hot couture. This footed jumpsuit is straight fire. Look at them stare.

HENRI: You are embarrassing yourself, Cesar and not how I wanted- I mean- I wanted this to be fun. Like old times. Now its almost- damn it’s past time.

SFX: FIRE ALARM

SFX: CROWD SCREAMING

HENRI: (SIGH) Time for me to fly.

SALAMANDER: Wait, Ennui, I’m stuck. (COUGHING) What about my manuscript?

HENRI: What about it, Cesar? Was it a master stroke? A work of staggering genius? Sometimes our dreams are just the kindling for someone else’s joke. Now you are the joke and it’s as plain as the chair on the back of your onesie. Who’s staggering now, Genius?

SALAMANDER: (COUGH) It is not a onesie! It’s a footed- (COUGH)

HENRI: Adios, you tit.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Space Lord!

SALAMANDER: Q.C., (COUGH) I’m getting dizzy, pull me out.

Q.C.EDGETEST: I am trying, Sir.

SFX: APPROACHING SIRENS

LAFEMME (MASK): Higgs, get me that suspect. He went out the back. Chromes, help me look for survivors.

Q.C.EDGETEST: Over here, Detective.

LAFEMME (MASK): Space Lord Slenderman! Can you here me? Space Lord? Stand back, I’m gonna carry him out. (YEET)

SFX: FIRE SUPPRESSION FOAM

SFX: ALARM TURNS OFF

LAFEMME: Slenderman, can you here me? Steven? Steven?

Q.C.EDGETEST: I beg your your pardon, Detective, but it is “Cesar”

SALAMANDER: (WEAKLY) Space Lord Salamander if you’re nasty. (COUGH)

Q.C.EDGETEST: Oh thank heavens you are alive, Sir. Detective Lafemme carried you out just in time.

SALAMANDER: You came for me?

LAFEMME: Well, actually we got a tip on some dangerous illegal shuttle parts and holo emitters. We traced the radiation to this system then the fire alarm got our attention.

LAFEMME/CONT’D OVER…

LAFEMME: All the other patrons ran out, but it seems you were restrained by your… onesie.

SALAMANDER: It’s a footed- never mind. Thank you for your help detective. I think it is time to go home and remove this attire.

Q.C.EDGETEST: About that, Sir. It may be slightly… permanently bonded to your skin.

SALAMANDER: Well, at least I look good. Right? Right?

LAFEMME: Um… Everybody looks good to somebody, I guess. Check in with the medic and catch up with me to file a report. Later, Cesar.

SALAMANDER: Sweet Venus, did you hear that, Q.C.? She thinks I look good! She wants to catch up later! Cupid’s blaster has finally struck true.

Q.C.EDGETEST: I am not sure that is what she meant, Sir.

SALAMANDER: I am not sure your opinion matters, Edgetest, you vat of vinegar. I need a bath. And a drink. And some food. I’m thinking… barbecue.

MFX: END THEME

THE END

CREDITS: This has been a production of the Never Rad Miscellany. The Never Rad Miscellany depends on contributions from listeners like you. Become a subscription donor and get wonderful benefits over at neverrad.com/patreon.

A Gentleman About Space is written by Matt Braman with sound and music by Matt Braman, starring Conrad Miszuk as Space Lord Caesar Salamander, William Crook as Q.C. Edgetest and Henri Dumas, Briauna Kittle as Detective Saoirse LaFemme.

This episode was edited by Conrad Miszuk.

The Never Rad Miscellany is Produced and Directed by Conrad Miszuk, with credits read by Matt Braman and videography by David Portillo.

The Never Rad Miscellany is proudly produced in Phoenix, Arizona. Check out NeverRad.com for future live show information, news, extras, more episodes, contact info, and transcriptions. Videos of the live performances are at NeverRad.com/YouTube. Miscellanists in the field may report their strange and interesting findings at (224)CALL-RAD. That’s (224)225-5723. Rate the Never Rad Miscellany five stars on your favorite podcasting service to help us grow, and connect with us on social media facebook.com/neverrad, neverrad.tumblr.com, Instagram @never.rad, and Twitter @NeverRad.

Special thanks to The Rebel Lounge, The Duck and Decanter, the live audience, and our Patreon patrons, especially Valerie, Your Real Dad, Paul C, and Josh Green!

Miscellaneous fact #8801 – Birds are capable of only one emotion, and that emotion is hatred.