"You vile little space-dog," she said in response to his innocent question. Rex smirked inanely at her insult, while Mia laughed a little too loudly for his liking.<br/><br/>“Vile little space-dog,” Ms. Yoww repeated, as if he hadn’t already heard it himself. He was, after all, less than a foot away from the pompously portentous Princess. “That’s gold, that is,” Mia continued ribbing him. “I gotta remember that one.” Without bothering to turn around, R2S shot her the single-digit salute. “ROWR!” his pilot replied.<br/><br/>Once she was done (finally!) with her little tirade about her ridiculous name, space credits, and prison, Rex responded, “Whatever the hell you say, Your Worship.”<br/><br/>Oh my. Remember her little tirade? Yeah, R2S could only<i>wish </i>he was that lucky. "And furthermore!" Tiara snapped, gaining momentum faster than The Def Leppard was hurtling through hyperspace. Ignoring the rear view mirror, and just so she wouldn’t miss a single thing, Mia turned in her seat to face the bickering pair. At such an entertaining moment like this, she bemoaned the fact of not having any high grade catnip at her disposal.<br/><br/>Sadly, but by no means surprisingly, Rex tuned the Royal something out (oh, she was a Royal something alright, and you know where too!), as soon as she uttered the mysterious words of<i>cleaned up.</i>The rest was all just blah, blah, blah in his ears. Mia cackled with glee, being of no help whatsoever, of course.<br/><br/>The Almost Intelligent’s attention span, however, quickly returned once she poked him in the chest. For added emphasis, one poke tagged along for every word. "Hell. To. Pay." For some perverted reason (of course it was gonna be perverted!), Rex recalled how Anna B. Nanna enjoyed being spanked, begged for it, to be precise. On occasion, even Mia worshipped at the Shrine of Spankism. And at this very moment, he relished the thought and act of bending her over his knees, and tanning this Tiara’s turgid tushy.<br/><br/>And wouldn’t you know it. Someone had the audacity to rain on his parade of potential paddling. “I hate to interrupt your Hallmark moment, Romeo,” Mia shouted, while returning to the space bus’s controls. “But in case you ain’t noticed yet, we got company!” Laser shots rocked The Def Leppard (see what I did there?).<br/><br/>Whoever this anonymous someone turned out to be, they sure had a warped sense of humor. Cuz thanks to their fired and landed shots, little Miss Spoilt Rotten was now in his arms. And she...she...she not only<i>felt </i>good, but<i>smelt </i>even better. The combination of feminine perspiration and expensive perfume mingled quite well.<br/><br/>A few more shots, and Mia again, after managing to raise the vehicle’s shields. “Hey, Romeo! You wanna tell me why in the fuck Pizza The Hut’s goons are firing at us?!” The Khajiit spun again in her pilot’s seat to glare at Tiara. Luckily for Her Highness, Mia’s scowl of daggers was minus the daggers. Cuz if it wasn’t, Tiara would be in dead space. Wait. That didn’t sound right. Cuz if it wasn’t, Tiara would be dead. In space. There. Much better.<br/><br/>"What's happening?!" Tiara asked breathlessly, while still in his arms. And then, like a two-year-old suddenly realizing his diaper was<i>still </i>dirty, Rex narrowed his gaze. “Aw, fuck me, Tiffany” (this wasn’t a real request, mostly), “does this have anything to do with your silly boob bag?!”<br/><br/>Before she had a chance to answer his query, Mia yelled, “Strap yourselves in, boys and girls! Cuz it’s barrel-roll time! MROWR!”<br/><br/>“Ah, shit!” Rex exclaimed, knowing full well what that meant. “C’mon, Treena, we gotta strap your ass down.” Plonking her once again in the chair, he secured her with the<i>Sparco </i>seat harnesses. Brusquely grabbing her ‘droid, she received the same treatment. “Same goes for you, Goldilocks!” Both now secured, R2S picked up the questionable bag and hustled to his seat up front, immediately strapping himself in nice and tight. Everything that needed to be fastened down throughout the bus<i>was </i>fastened down.<br/><br/>Mia Yoww punched a button, and while the theme song from<i>Top Gun</i>blared through the speakers (this<i>was </i>a rock band’s tour bus, remember), Rex watched with a smirk as the floor was now the ceiling and back again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. She was having<i>way </i>too much fun. "Yeeeeehawwwww!" Mia confirmed.