(The interior of a small spaceship. MARKIE sits at the controls. The ship has air, so MARKIE doesn’t wear a helmet, but one sits nearby.)
(MARKIE press a button and speaks into a camera [the audience].)
Oh dudes you don’t even know what you unleashed.
I AM THE BEAST.
You should have taken more shit for yourselves before you released space travel to the stinking masses. You know? Set some more records? Done some more shit For Science?
Cause y’all kids gonna regret it from now on.
Why? Because I may look like a supermodel and have the voice of an Olympian God and make all the dudes and ladies faint with one wink of my eye and have twelve honorary degrees but I am a MONSTER.
And you let me take them all!
You will all be forced to remember me throughout history as the one to set these records.
Quick who is Neil Armstrong that’s right you know who that is. Some of you even remember who Yuri Gagarin is. Well shitheads in the future no one is going to remember who Marilyn Monroe is or Ronald Reagan or Tiger fucking Woods.
In the future thousands of years from now the only ones who will matter are the ones who invented shit and did shit first. We are the ones who stand the test of time. Cause when humanity is a bunch of gooballs hanging out on other planets with brains the size of computers and computers the color of brains than guess what the old petty squabblings of that Earth-planet from the year who-gives-a-fuck will not matter anymore. They will remember Jesus and the Buddha and Mohammed. They will remember Shakespeare and Beethoven and The Beatles. They will remember Genghis Khan and Napoleon if they’re like really fucking smart, like as smart as I am, but probably not. Other than those folks?
Other than those folks? Who they going to remember? That’s right. Einstein. Newton. Armstrong. Yuri. Branson. And they’re going to remember the ones all you idiots forget nowadays, they’re going to re-remember them, Descartes, and Bohr, and Tsiolkovsky, and Polley, and Mgabe. They’re going to worship those fuckers and resurrect them out of their sad graves into gods. Like literally they’ll do it with cloning technology and they’ll worship those resurrected motherfuckers, like the corpse of poor Turing will be reawakened, and he’ll go, “What’s all this then? Robots? Spaceships?” and they’ll say, “Sorry for how we treated you, old boy, here’s a palace filled with gold and bioengineered sexboy robots and caviar, we’ve rejiggered you so you live a thousand years, have at it sir, you deserve it” and fucking Turing will get the afterlife he fucking deserves.
And I’ll be among them.
Remember that name. Or don’t, it doesn’t matter, the future will.
Because I won, bitches. You forgot to close the gate.
See this beautiful hand-calligraphed list right here? This will be in museums in the future. This is Markie’s Handwritten List of All The Firsts. All the Firsts that no one thought to get out of the way yet.
And I’m going to do them.
I’ve got my home-tuned spaceship here. I’ve got a cargo hold full of awesome crap and provisions and filters to last up here for ten months.
“Ten months?!” they say. “But you’ll go crazy up there alone!” AH-HA but GO SPACE CRAZY is on the list. Last item, see it there? I will be the First person in history to GO SPACE CRAZY. And it will be glorious. I will contribute oodles to science right there.
In fact, they will measure contributions to science in Markies after me. Not oodles. One minor contribution to science is One Markie. Five Markies equals one major contribution to science or the MegaMarkie. Fuck you, I’ll call it Mega if I want. For I am Markie.
See this list?
Look at it.
Your eyeballs are worth more for having seen it.
Look at this. First space sex. Can’t believe Dick Branson didn’t knock that one off. Well how will Markie manage space sex for the first time up there alone? Hm? First space sex with a sex bot. First space sex with teledildonics. Oh and did I mention I’ve got a clone up here? What, you didn’t know clones were legal? Were pretty sure after the Prague Incident that shit was canned? Well kids I am IN SPACE so as to your cloning laws I say FUCK YOU. And if you shoot a missile up here and blow me up THAT’S AN ALTERNATE FIRST. See, right there, alternate Firsts, on the list. I’ll get First Sex In Space With A Clone Of Yourself and First Blown Up In Space By A Missle. How ‘bout that.
Oh look at this. What’s this item. First orchestra recorded in space. I’ve got all the instruments in back. ALL OF THEM. And ProTools. So what!
Oh and this one. This one looks good. First naked spacewalk. What, you stupid backwards Earth-humans didn’t know that if you got a helmet on you can spacewalk naked? It takes a few minutes for the shit you thinks happens to happen. I will be fine and dandy. Read some Wikipedia, assholes. And then build a new page for Naked Spacewalking, and put me First on it, because that’s what I’ll be. I’ll fucking moon the Earth. I’ll moon the Moon. My mooning ass will ECLIPSE THE MOON. ASSHOLES IN AUSTRALIA WILL WALK THROUGH THE SHADOW OF MY ASS IN THE MOONLIGHT.
FIRST. MARKIE THE FIRST IN FIRSTS!
Check the list. Be jealous. And if you have any requests, send them up, for I will also be the First To Take Requests For Firsts In Space.
First Acid Trip In Space. That will contribute at least three MegaMarkies to science and poetry right there. First Self-Surgery In Space. First Skee-Ball In Space. I know y’all are jealous of that one. I’ve got magnets. Firsts, Firsts, Firsts!
And they Will Remember Me Forever.
And they Will Forget You All On Earth.
That’s the way it is.
Stay tuned, children. The First First from the list will come at oh-eight-hundred-hours Greenwich time, which by the way I will be recalibrating for y’all.
(MARKIE shuts it off, then sits back.)
I can’t wait to watch the news.
(There is a knock on the window.)
What the fuck?
(MARKIE looks out the cockpit.)
WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE YOU DECREPIT DOPE?
WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY COMMUNICATION ANTENNA IN YOUR HAND?
(MARKIE clicks on various buttons.)
Where did it go?
WHERE DID IT GO?
WHERE DID MY MESSAGE GO?
WHERE ARE YOU GOING, DICK BRANSON?
COME BACK HERE WITH MY-
(The panels start beeping.)
Incoming missile. Type: stealth. Flag: Australia.
RICHARD BRANSON YOU GODDAMN SON OF A MARTIAN!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO(end of play).