From Rainbow Girl's diary, August 23, 2987:
"Everything's screwed up.
The big news? We're adrift. Despite constant instructions to the contrary, Tusker found his way into the engine room. Once there, he managed to spill an entire gallon of Bismoll MacMattercuddy's Famous Double-Plutonium Espresso into the reactor chamber, causing a chain reaction that melted the core and destroyed the main engine. We're running on backup power right now, so all the lighting is dim and also RED for no good reason except Blockade Boy must think it looks 'cool' or something. The backup engine is powered by a little hand crank that must be turned every hour. Kind of a pain. I'd make Tusker do it but I'm afraid he'd SNAP IT OFF. Oh, and have I mentioned we're "laying low" in the Gorilla Nebula, far away from inhabited planets and trade routes? Oh, yes, we're quite possibly screwed.
I snagged Storm Boy to help me figure out some way to work around the destroyed engine. But now that he's on the wagon he's really kind of manic and useless, and he can't concentrate for beans. Every piece of machinery he laid his eyes on suggested some outlandish and impractical new invention to him. I just wanted the ship to have a working engine and he kept pestering me with rhapsodies about banana clips that electronically hypnotized head lice into working as a profitable miniature circus, or a combination vacuum-bagpipe that plays music while you clean. And in the middle of all THAT, Weight Wizard showed up in a nude panic demanding to know where we kept the crowbar. And when we asked him why, he just looked down at his feet and said, 'No reason.'
A few hours later and with very little accomplished Storm Boy and I swung by the galley for some breakfast. And there was Weight Wizard. I could tell right away something was amiss, because he was wearing clothes. And he was much friendlier than usual. Normally I can't get two words out of him. (He's one of those smug-yet-frosty types... he's always hanging onto Storm Boy, and usually when I try talking to him he'll either say nothing at all or he'll smirk and whisper something to Blockade Boy. It's irritating.) Oh, and even more suspiciously, he tried to make small-talk. Like we were old friends. But there was something about his eyes that seemed OFF. He looked shell-shocked. So I just asked him point-blank, 'Where's Blockade Boy?'
He shrugged. 'I'm sure he's around here somewhere.' I asked him if Blockade Boy was still upset about getting voted off Next Top Hero. He guffawed, ruefully. Then he mumbled something about Blockade Boy having 'bigger stuff to worry about.'
Just then, Blockade Boy slammed through the swinging doors. He was dragging himself forward on two of his best, most pretentious canes. And the techno-organic bug that had infected his legs and dingus had taken over his arms, shoulders, and a good deal of his torso!
Scans showed that all the organic and mechanical matter that used to be irretrievably intermingled in Blockade Boy's lower half had VANISHED, leaving everything below his waist a hollow, jointed shell. Like a ventriloquist's puppet! Furthermore, his magnetic codpiece has fused to his crotch, where his robotic dingus USED to be. And the rest of him -- bones, nerve endings, gears and fan belts -- is just DANGLING there inside his chest! To be honest, there is no scientific explanation for why Blockade Boy is even STILL ALIVE. It's weird. And Weight Wizard was not taking it well. AT ALL. Blockade Boy will try to put his arm around him, for support, and Weight Wizard will try to shrug him off, so Blockade Boy will then put his OTHER arm around him and hold Weight Wizard's arm there so he can't let go, and then the two of them will basically WALTZ wherever Blockade Boy wants to go. It's awkward.
I don't know what's going on.
But whatever it is, it can't possibly end well."