Next Sunrise is a science fiction comedy audio
drama. Check the episode description for content
warnings. Hey, Lucy. Preheat the oven for me,
please, ma 'am. We've been through this before,
Erwin. I am an advanced AI in charge of ensuring
every system on Next Sunrise functions nominally.
However, my duties do not include sous chef.
Yeah, I know. But can you make sure the oven
is functioning anonymously? Kitchen oven powered
on and functioning within normal parameters.
You're the best, Luce. That I do know. All right,
now to add my secret ingredients. A splash of
Ganymede slug sauce, just a sprinkle of grated
muthorn, and perfect. And to finish it off, my
signature flair. Careful, Erwin. We don't want
another kitchen torch -related incident. Hey,
now, I know what I'm doing. I'm a chef, remember?
The crew roster officially lists you as the next
Sunrise Station's cook. Yeah, yeah, yeah, we've
been over this. It's an administrative oversight.
They'll have it fixed soon. If you say so. Nevertheless,
the fire suppression system will be on heightened
alert. And perfect. Now... to pop this delicacy
in the oven. Hello, Chef. Good morning. Well,
hey there, little Fritz. What brings you by the
mess hall? You looking to get your grub on? Oh,
no, sir. I don't require the same sustenance
that most of the other crew depend on. I just
wanted to observe normal crew routines. I assure
you, there is no such thing as normal crew routines
on next sunrise. So, what sort of sustenance
do you require? Not much more than the occasional
recharge and fluid cycling, but I do enjoy a
nice oil. Mm -hmm. My body is also capable of
breaking down metal alloys in order to assimilate
them into my framework. Well, that's... Oh, hey,
I've got the perfect thing. Hang tight. Got it.
All right, let's see here. You're gonna love
this. What is this solution? It's an olive oil
imported all the way from Earth. Oh, um, what
gives it that interesting brown color? I've been
aging it for three years. Oh, um, I am not an
expert like you, Chef, but I do not think that
olive oil is supposed to be aged. Enjoyed? Of
course it is. Life is short, and it's my way
of saying thanks for repairing my pickle picker.
Life is about to become much, much shorter. Speaking
of which, do you think you could take a stab
at fixing my tuna press? Forgive my ignorance.
What's a tuna press? Oh, well, I'm glad you asked.
You know them little metal cans of tuna? What
with them liquids all inside? No, I'm not familiar.
Well, now, the tuna press is a handy little device.
Of my own design, I might add. You just take
the metal lid off and press the tuna down with
the tuna press to strain out all the liquids.
Oh, I see. But couldn't you just use the lid
of the tin can? All right, give the oil a try
before it gets cold. Well, what do you think,
little man? It's, uh, it tastes like crayons.
Tangy crayons. I knew you'd love it. How about
another? Oh, um, where is everyone else? I anticipated
that the mess hall would be more busy at this
time in the morning. Oh, well, I think they're
all just way too considerate. They want to make
sure everyone else has gotten food before they
get theirs. Yes, the station crew is nothing
if not considerate. It's nice to have somebody
to chat with. I draw little smiley faces on the
cabbages, but they don't ever talk back. Oh,
that's sad? Oh, no. I was going to say that's
so... creative. Well, thanks, little buddy. Hey,
did you ever get into the kitchen much on your
old ship? I don't recall. Accessing memory. The
poor deer. Fragmented databases can be quite
difficult to recover. Oh, I've got something.
There was a galley, but it was nowhere near the
size of the next Sunrise Kitchen. Oh, yeah? My
previous owner, my friend, his favorite snack
were small round bread discs covered with tomato
sauce. And melted cheese. Oh, pizza bagels. Yes,
that is what he called them. I'd kill for a pizza
bagel. But it's almost impossible to get cheese
shipments from the inner colonies. What with
all them cow problems on Earth. I don't think
the cheese was made from animal byproducts. What
kind of cheese ain't made from milk? I made the
cheese by crushing... I apologize. I cannot recall
the recipe at this time. That's no problem, little
buddy. Can't miss what you never had, you know.
Does that include higher intelligence? Oh, Lucy.
You crack me up. Alright, my breakfast casserole
is ready. And anyway, could a lower interleuk
create something like this beauty? I believe
that is the only requirement. What do you think,
Fritz? It looks very... creative. If only we
had cheese to melt on top. I apologize that I
cannot recall the recipe for non -dairy cheese.
Don't sweat it. Maybe we can get a little flock
of space cows on station one day. I keep putting
in requests with Miss Bestrix, but they keep
getting lost. Getting lost? That's one way to
put it. How does a space cow differ from an Earth
-born cow? Please don't get him started. Not
too different at all. You see, the space boar
vines have been bredded for space, so their bones
are lighter, and they did away with their legs
altogether, really. And their tails grew out
longer and sort of spin around like a little
propeller to help them get where they're going.
They still moo, though. Cute as a button, they
are. It will be a cold day on the sun before
that requisition is approved. Cold? The casserole's
getting cold. Time to ring the dinner bell. By
my calculations, is it not breakfast time? Yeah,
but... I never thought about that. What would
a breakfast bell sound like? Attention, crew.
We have an incoming ship preparing to dock on
the observation level. Oh, neat. It looks like
a Pluckin' Pluto's Space Chicken Express. What
is a Space Chicken Express? Oh, well, it's like
one of those Pluckin' Pluto's fast food stations,
except this one moves around. On Earth, they
called them food trucks, but those didn't fly
around in space. Pluckin' Pluto's has docked.
Last one to the observation level is a rotten
space egg. I would like to observe this as well.
Are you coming, Mr. Irwin? Oh, no. I think I'll
hang back and figure out this breakfast bell
thing. You'll want nice, soothing acoustics.
You could try ringing your crane with that pickle
picker. Alright, that ought to do her. One breakfast
bell ready for action. Hey Lucy, can you tie
this sound into the intercoms for me? Your breakfast
bell is now included in the intercom sound effect
array. Great, thanks! Now, for its galactic debut.
We've got a fanta - Fantastic new breakfast casserole
on the menu this morning. And it's just begging
to dance with your taste buds. I still think
wringing your skull with a pickle picker would
have been a better option. Now we wait. Sure
hope they didn't fill up on that plucking Pluto's.
I don't think they have a breakfast menu anyway.
I hate to see this casserole go to waste. Hey,
all right. Oh. Hey, Zero. Thrilled to see you,
too. Uh, anyone behind you? Does it look like
I'm leading a conga line? I'm clearly just making
the cleaning rounds with my... trainee. Where's
your trainee? Oh, hey, Malcolm. You want some
breakfast casserole? He does not. Oh, well, okay.
So, you got any idea where everyone is? I do.
Oh. Uh, well, where is everyone? We just came
from cleaning up their mess of chicken wrappers
and other human detritus on the observation level.
Oh, I see. And I see the mess hall is just as
pristine as I left it last night. Exquisite.
I'll leave you to sulk in your delightful anguish.
Well, you know we like to keep a tight ship around
here. Okay. Catch you later, Zero. Bye, Malcolm.
In the garbage chute you go, little casserole.
That was hard to watch. I'm sure they just didn't
want to hurt Pluck and Pluto's feelings. Coming
out all this way and all. Anyway, I better get
this mess picked up so I can get started on lunch.
Attention crew, lunch is served at your local
friendly mess hall. Oh, hey, Captain. You here
for lunch? I am not. I'm here to ask why you're
playing breakfast chimes for lunch. Oh, well,
I don't have a lunch bell yet. And the dinner
bell's for dinner. Don't try to make sense of
it, Captain. Anyway, you sure you're not hungry?
I'm positive. I just polished off two Space Chicken
Deluxe boxes and a side of Moonspuds. Moonspuds?
Yep, they were all out of Moon Coronian cheese.
I arrived a little late to lunch, and the rest
of our greedy little crew didn't save me any.
The rest of the crew? All just had to make sure
I arrived early for dinner, before the rest of
the crew devours all the good sides. Dinner?
Why does the station need a chef if everyone's
just going to go eat at that plucking Pluto's
Express. Well, technically speaking, the station
doesn't need a chef on the crew. That is it.
I'm out of here. I'll trade in this apron for
overalls and go tend a flock of space cows. I
suppose we can table this lunch bell thing for
now. These tables may not ever see a cooked lunch
again. Hit me again, barkeep. You can just call
me Finch, Erwin. Sorry, French. Don't worry about
it. Here's your strawberry ringtini. Maybe drink
this one. Ah, delicious. Slower. Huh? Here's
a glass of water. On the house. Thanks. French.
So, what's got your apron in a knot? You don't
seem like the heavy drinking type. Oh, well,
I just don't understand. Don't understand what,
bud? Why the crew don't want my cuisine? Is it
not good enough? Maybe, uh, maybe their palates
just aren't refined enough for your creativity,
you know? Oh, comic hurdles. I hear what they
say. And now they're just... Throwing money at
that fucking Pluto's Express. It might not never
leave next sunrise. Then what? Well, maybe they
just missed the stuff they ate growing up. Yeah,
like comfort food. It can get pretty stressful
around here. Yeah, no kidding. I've only been
on station a handful of cycles, and even I can
see that. Do you think so? Well, sure. You know
what they say about... Trying the same thing
over and over and expecting different results.
What do they say about it? That it's... maybe
you just need to take your mind off of things.
Watch the hollows for a bit. I'll be right back.
Okay, French. I'll watch the bar. Oh, and drink
that water. You've got to get cracking on dinner
soon. In reports from Earth by the President
of the Galactic Alliances of Sol... have reaffirmed
the Alliance's efforts to renew peace talks with
the Mars Settlements, as well as all outposts
of the Free Colonies Pact. Alright! Finally some
good news. When asked for comment, Elder Jinbei,
current spokesperson for the Free Colonies Pact,
stated they have received no such communication
of peace talks from the Galactic Alliances of
Sol. claiming their settlements are still being
harassed by GAS forces. The gas had no comment
on this claim. And speaking of gas, here's a
word from our sponsors. If your tummy's got a
bubble and you think you are in trouble, the
escape pod doesn't have a restroom. When you've
eaten nasty beef, just reach for a relief of
the purple liquid called tummy spew. Tummy Spume,
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Always keep a bottle of liquid Tummy Spume on
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Tummy Spume, Tummy Spume, when you feel like
certain doom, just reach for that purple Tummy
Spume. So, feeling better yet? I think I might
need some Tummy Spume. Some what? I've got it.
Got what? You were right. They just want some
comfort food. They can't help that their tummies
don't understand my sulfatistic flavors. Yeah.
Oh, Mr. French, I can't thank you enough. I know
just what to do. What have I done? Should I put
in a requisition order for a case of tummy spume?
Okay, so what was so important that you called
a secret meeting down here on maintenance level,
flinchy? I don't want to repeat myself, so I'll
just wait till everyone arrives. Secret meeting
in engineering? It's fun. What is going on, cowboy?
Cowboy? Astrid let me peek your file. You are
big time pew pew dirty hairy man. Just trying
to make a living, Ivan. What are you skinbags
conspiring about down here on level 10? No one's
conspiring, Zero. Who authorized a secret meeting
in maintenance? Secret meeting? I knew it. You
are conspiring. Well, carry on. Don't mind me
or my trainee while we make our cleaning rounds.
We aren't conspiring. Look, I just needed to
get you all alone somewhere I didn't think Erwin
would come. Don't be so sure about that. He probably
comes down here to bottom level to look for weird
ingredients, no? That's what I wanted to talk
about. Well, spit it out. I'm starving and I
need to get to Pluckin' Pluto's before the Mooncaronian
cheese runs out again. That's also what I wanted
to talk about. Finch, why are we cramped down
in this entirely too hot engine room to discuss
Mooncaroni? Oh, hello. Hey, Zarebear. Greetings,
Dr. Zara. What are we doing down in maintenance?
Oh, did you discover a new lifeform growing near
the warm radiation of the engine again? Again?
See, I told you. Weird ingredients for Erwin
are growing down here. Just hang on. I'll explain.
Well, you had better make it quick. Look, I just
spent over an hour watching Erwin spiral up in
the ringside. He's seriously hurt that not a
single one of you showed up to the mess hall
for breakfast or lunch. I think he's threatening
to quit. Oh. Well, that's, um... That's impossible!
He can't quit! He's under contract for at least
another year! That isn't the point. Isn't Erwin
a friend? Can't you throw him a bone and show
up for dinner? Let's see. So it's either trip
to observation deck for delicious fried space
chicken, or we eating Erwin's supper for trip
to sickbay. Ivan makes a valid point, Flinchy.
Look, I think Erwin's trying something a little
different tonight. Erwin is always trying something
a little different. That's the issue. No, I think
Erwin's going to try to make something familiar.
You know, edible. I had a little talk with him,
and I saw a lightbulb go off. That man is two
watts short of a lightbulb. Oh, come now. Erwin
is nice, man. Big heart, no? I didn't say I didn't
like Erwin. He's good people. He just doesn't
have a lot going on upstairs. Yeah, you make
fun. Because kitchen is upstairs and because
brain is so simple. Yeah, Iceman. Way to murder
a joke. Stairs? I've studied this historical
architectural feature, but I do not believe we
have stairs in Next Sunrise. That is correct,
Dr. Zara. Stairs are not BBA compliant. BBA compliment?
Compliant, Icebrain. She means the Beans Without
Bipedals Act. It ensures that non -bipeds can
get around. That is correct, Astrid. Like folks
in auto chairs or wheeled robots, we can't have
them getting stuck due to a lack of ramps or
turbo lifts. My trainee would have a difficult
time with stairs as well. He finds himself vertically
challenged. And speaking of turbo lifts, just
get your biped butts up to the mess hall and
support your friend. Dinner should be ready any
minute. Oops, wrong bell. Luce, play the other
one. They don't care. Please? Please, please?
Alright, fine. Attention crew. I've got something
extra special for you all in the mess hall. Come
and get it. And I'll give you a hint. It's fried
up good and doesn't have any feathers. Does Erwin
make the space chicken for us? Oh, my kaiju.
Erwin made normal food. Let's go. Look, Mr. Erwin.
The crew is starting to enter the mess hall.
I know, little man. Ain't it great? Do you require
any further assistance with dinner preparations?
Sure. If you'll yank those thighs out of the
fryer, I'll get the serving plates. This task
will not be a problem. Oh man, not like that.
Use the tongs, not your hands. This method is
more efficient. I can remove the thighs from
the hot oil twice as fast. Yeah, but we don't
need any more burn injury reports coming from
the kitchen. I am comprised of a layer graphene
composite. It can withstand temperatures over
1 ,000 degrees Celsius. Uh, huh? Or over 2 ,000
degrees Fahrenheit, if you prefer. Well, that
seems pretty hot. That is approximately the temperature
of lava. Oh, wow. Man, I gotta get my hands on
some of that lava. Hey, Erwin, where is dinner?
We are starving out here. This better be good.
I hear Pluckin' Pluto's express ship is leaving
tonight. It'll be great. Just wait. All right,
Fritz. Grab those plates and help me serve our
adoring guests. Oh, no! Doesn't that just look
wonderful? Splendid job, Erwin. Why, thank you,
ma 'am. Yeah, Ernie. That looks exactly like
Pluckin' Pluto's deep -fried space chicken thighs.
Just wait till you taste it. Hey, it's hot. Do
you have fork? Here you are, Mr. Ivan. Thank
you, little fritz. And one fork for you. And
one fork for you. Ivan, why is your fork sinking
into the space chicken thigh? I do not know.
It is like gravy. The better question is, why
is this space chicken thigh melting into a plate
puddle? Erwin, what on Saturn's satellites is
going on here? Fried chicken isn't supposed to
melt into liquid. You got me. I made you guys
something even better than that old plucking
Pluto's space chicken. Here we go. I created
y 'all something almost exactly like fried chicken,
but better. I'm calling it Tofu Goose. Tofu Goose?
Yeah. Tofu Goose has got more different vitamins
and minerals than that old space chicken. And
you can squish it into whatever shape you want.
Erwin, ew! Who cares what vitamins it has? We
have supplements for that. Hmm, Ivan has idea.
Maybe if I am pouring liquid tofu juice into
cup. Oh, that is absolutely revolting. Ivan,
Ivan, do not! I think I'm going to be sick. Hey,
anyone got a bottle of tummy spume? Hey, Erwin,
ease not have bed. Maybe need a little salt.
Yeah, all right. I knew you guys would love it.
I'm gonna go work on that recipe a little more.
Add some salt. Is it actually palatable, I smell?
Well, he's not going to kill me. Give it time.
Excellent. They will destroy themselves from
the inside. And where's the captain? If we're
having to suffer this, so should he. Oh. The
captain is also drinking his dinner, but he's
doing it down at the bar. I'm going to take this
dinner back to the lab. Prefer to eat or drink
alone? Oh, no. I must run some tests on this.
I think it might still be alive. Thank you for
listening to Episode 4 of Next Sunrise on the
Rings of Saturn, titled Irwin's Renaissance.
This episode features voice performances, in
no particular order but alphabetical, from Amanda
Hundley as Astrid, Amy Lanier as Lucy, Basil
Gist as Ivan, Hank Hundley as Fritz, Jimerson
Atkins as Finch, Justine Scott as Bestrix, Malcolm
Atkins as Malcolm, Mark Lanier as the holoscreen
announcer. Mike McVay as Zero. Ray Sires as Dr.
Zara. Randy Killam as Captain Tobias. And Travis
Hunley as Erwin. Next Sunrise was written, produced,
and directed by Jimerson Adkins. QA by Mike McVay.
This podcast is a production of Doggone Worldwide.
Want to hear more? For bonus content and behind
-the -scenes updates, follow us on social media
at NextSunrisePodcast or visit NextSunrise .com.
If you enjoyed this episode, please leave us
a review and share it with your fellow sci -fi
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Tune in next episode titled Dancing the Wittershins,
where pirates visit the next sunrise station
and Fritz and Malcolm go off on a little adventure
of their own. See you around the sun.