There was a serious disturbance that evening at the Colony V Medical Bay reception area.

“Sir, I’ll tell you again, but only once more.” said the duty nurse in her best passive aggressive voice. “You leave now and you run a severe risk of ass haemorrhaging and secondary bleeding. It could even lead to total prolapse. It could be the end of your ass, altogether.”

Sean rolled his eyes and picked up the stylus. He’d heard it all before. About thirty seconds ago in fact.

“Where do I sign?” The nurse pointed, theatrically, not appreciating the irony.
“Look, if you must leave…” the nurse was beginning to show genuine concern as Sean pressed stylus on screen.
“… just don’t sit on it.”
“I know!” Sean said, dismissively

He tutted and walked out of the door. Well, shuffled, wincing with pain every other step. His ass really hurt, more in fact than he would ever have thought realistically possible. He didn’t doubt that the risks involved with absconding from the hospital whilst Claire went to the toilet were very high indeed. Perhaps his actions were because he hadn’t learned anything after all, or perhaps (being kind to him) it was the medication. Either way he was going to the theatre; he had a show to get to.

Sean approached the fateful Plaza in front of the theatre once again, this time moving gingerly, dressed in a hospital gown and no shoes. For some reason, in spite of having already succeeded in their aim of having a good old fashioned lynching, and in spite of there being only ten minutes to go before the start of an actual show, there was still a mob outside. A smaller mob now, but still a mob nonetheless. Oblivious to the unfortunate fact that the back of his gown flapped open, revealing the substantial dressing swaddling his abused buttocks, Sean strode towards the mob as fast as he could go. Which wasn’t very fast, given the circumstances. His face was terrifying, a rictus grimace of rectal discomfort tainted by what appeared to be raw fiery ticked-offness.

“Get him!” the mob said. “again!”

Sean strode right up to the smallest man he could see and thumped him deliberately (and with extreme prejudice) between the eyes.

“Ow!” said the man.
“He punched Herbert!” said the mob “Get him!”
“This whole mob thing is getting REALLY…. boring.” Sean said through his teeth, in an extremely threatening way. How right he was.
“Why are you all here anyway?” he continued.
“I would suggest it’s partially a result of the sense of delirium we all feel due to the situation we find ourselves in” said one man, who looked suspiciously like an older version of Mick. “with no common goals or ancestry, and no ‘destination’ for our lives in a godless homeless society, people are bound to rally around causes that provide them with common ground and thus a greater sense of belonging in the absence of any other meaning in their lives.”
“Right” said Sean, some of the wind taken out of his sails.
“I just missed it last night” said Herbert “I had to go to the toilet.”

Sean glared at him, and he flinched.

“There is another reason” said the Mick man.
“Which is?” Sean asked, fairly.
“ You broke the robots! It’s all your fault! Get him!”
“WAIT!” Sean shouted forcefully, accidentally bringing his elbow down on the bridge of Herbert’s nose as he spread his arms wide.
“Ow!” said the little guy in an affronted manner, spurting blood “That’s probably broken you know. I could prosecute you…”

Sean ignored him and addressed the group, which were now giving him their full attention.

“Why do you even care? Have any of you ever even been to a play?” The mob looked at each other and collective shrugged.
“Did you know there’s actually a play on tonight? Anyway?”
“Yeah, but we pays our money!” a large guy with a tattoo yelled.
“What?? You haven’t even seen it yet!” Sean replied, reasonably “and anyway, no you haven’t – there isn’t even any currency on board the ship, for starters.”
The man looked confused “You know what I mean.” he said, lamely.
“No,” said Sean “I don’t. Now, I’m going to come through here to put this play on – is anyone going to stop me?”
The mob looked at their feet, and let Sean pass among them.
“Watch it though, or else.” the tattooed man muttered under his breath, waggling his stick.
“It better be good!” said another, much to Sean’s general concern.