"I am God! Make me a sandwich!" Leslie yelled at the two bored guards standing outside of her cell in the drift's maximum-security prison (only two blocks from the mall). "How long will it take you pathetic mortals to realize you should make me a sandwich!?!" Leslie yelled at them, rattling the bars.

"What in the bluest of blue moons is all that racket!?!" Sam Cotter, the prison Master General, asked as he came down the hall towards Leslie's cell. (A.N. I don't know what the position is really supposed to be called.)

"I am the God of all things that believe in a God, now MAKE ME A SANDWICH!!!" Leslie yelled, sticking her arm through the bars and pointing her finger erratically at him.

"And what will you do if I don't?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I will shove them up you!!!" Leslie elaborated, motioning as if she were directing planes to land.

"Will it make you be quiet?" Sam asked a little red in the face.

"Yes...and just so you know, I want herb and cheddar with white cheese, turkey breast, lettuce, pickles, Mayo, chips, and a slergy! Baked fresh everyday, from Subway." Leslie explained.

"Fine, but what's a slergy?" Sam asked confused.

"It's a mixture of all the pop's there." Leslie told him as if it was the stupidest question in the world.

"All righty then, I'll be back later." Sam said leaving.

"Dude, he's hot." Leslie sighed, after he left.

"I heard that!" He called back from the door. "I thought God had a quiet voice."

"I'm not God." Leslie replied sincerely.

Lauren and Harper were sitting in a restaurant having a pleasant conversation waiting for a waiter to come over to take their orders.

"Military intelligence. That's such an oxymoron. It's right up there with deafening silence, loving hate, cuddly Magog-"

"I find Rev Bem to be very cuddly." Lauren told him, hoping she could get him off the military strategies used in WWIII he'd been discussing.

"Okay, maybe, but have you seen the way he looks at people sometimes, like they might make a really good steak?" He asked with a smile, only half serious. "What about Cuddly Neitzcheans?"

"Chelsey."

"Okay, wrong again." Harper laughed.

"Seamus, honey, you know your not supposed to talk politics on a first date." Lauren said, leaning across the table slightly.

"Lauren, I've know you for.........but this is.........I'm confused." He tried and failed.

"It's okay, you're just like a big dumb baby." She reached across the table and patted his head. Harper had just enough time to stick his tongue out at her before the waiter showed up (a snooty tall man with slick black hair).

"May I take your order?" He asked taking out his note pad.

"Uh, sure." Harper replied, opening his menu. "I'll have the Fettuccini Alfredo and a side salad, with Italian dressing."

"And I'll have the popcorn shrimp basket, and a side salad with Ranch dressing." Lauren smiled.

"And bring us a bottle of your cheapest wine...and no ice." Harper smiled.

"No ice?" The waiter raised a thinly plucked eyebrow, and Lauren looked curiously at her boyfriend.

"They don't charge you for the water, the ice is where they get cha." He justified his decision to Lauren. The waiter looked appalled and then his face acquired a sly grin.

"That's a specialty order, I'm going to have to charge you for that."

"What an arm and a leg?" Lauren looked at him.

"Perhaps." The waiter replied.

"Get our food." Lauren snapped.

"Please." Harper added.

"Not you're just being rude." The waiter turned sharply and stomped off.

"He's gonnna spit in my Alfredo, isn't he?" Harper looked innocently at Lauren.

"Don't give me that look, you asked for no ice. God you're cheap." Lauren snapped slightly at him.

"You ordered the cheapest thing on the menu."

"Don't you dare play angel with me, I've known you too long."

"I wasn't........."

"No ice?"

"I give up. You're too hard to scam."

"I'm not too hard to scam, I'm paranoid. The government is out to get me."

"The government is not out to get us."

"You're right, it's not out to US it's out to get ME! Moreover, just 'cause you're not paranoid, doesn't mean that they're not out to get you too."

"Geeze you're strange."

"But you love me."

"Yeah I do."

"That was a wonderful dinner, Tyr." Sammie squeezed his hand as they walked out of the very expensive restaurant he had taken her to for their date.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He replied.

"Now what are we gonna do?" Sammie asked curiously.

"Well we could always........."

"Again?" She asked, only half serious, "Got any better ideas?"

"Um, not really. We could go kill people."

"What?"

"How do you think I paid for that dinner?"

"Well.........You learn something new everyday then I guess. Let's stalk people."

"What's wrong with you?" Tyr raised an eyebrow.

"Oh come on. We could find Isa and Harper, and just stare at them for like, twenty minutes."

"Fine." Tyr caved, "But knowing Harper they're in the cheapest restaurant on this drift." He informed, before walking off with Sammie.

"Dylan?"

"Yes Andromeda?" He replied curled up on the couch with a sleeping Holly (they had been watching a movie).

"You're needed on the drift. There's been an.........incident."

"What kind of incident?"

"Leslie is in the drift's Maximum-Security prison, for stealing a cash register, stealing some yogurt, mooning the owner of the drift, and, let's not forget, grand theft moped. She also threatened the Master General of the prison." Andromeda smirked.

"Why is practically all of my crew insane?"

"Maybe it's you.........I mean, you ARE the captain."

"That's not funny."

"You better get over there. The penalty for mooning the owner is very.........well, let's just say, it's not good."

"They actually made laws about mooning?"

"Apparently it happens with a degree of frequency."

Dylan just shook his head and left to retrieve his resident schizophrenic.

"This is a pretty good slergy." Leslie commented to Sam, who was sitting across from her cell, watching her intently.

"Thanks, I think." He replied.

"So, when do I get out of here?"

"Um.........that's on a need to know basis and you don't need to know."

"But I do know. I know everything, I'm God, remember? But then again, I do know nothing, so does that make me a bad God?"

"Umm............just eat your sandwich."

"You want some?"

"No thanks, I'm not a big herb person."

"Fine, more for me."

"Okie dokie."

"Hey, come here." Leslie whispered.

"Why?" Sam asked nervously.

"Just 'cause."

"That's not a good enough reason."

"I command you to come here."

"Okay." Sam complied walking over to Leslie's cell.

"Closer please." Leslie said and Sam leaned in a little closer. Without a second thought, Leslie licked Sam's cheek. "Mmmm, you taste good."

"Sir?" A man asked form the doorway.

"Yes?" Sam answered, walking over to the man.

"Captain Hunt is here, sir." The man replied.

"I'm on my way." He replied.

A few minutes later, Sam returned with Dylan in tow.

"Hey Dylan! How's it hangin'?"

"Uh.........never mind. What did you do!?!"

"I got some yogart.........and a sandwich." She held up her sandwich.

"Mr. Cotter here says that you threatened him, so he would get you that sandwich, is that true?"

"Yeppers. My exact words were, 'I will shove them up you!!!'. So really, it wasn't a threat, but more of a fun physics experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong. They wouldn't give me their consent."

"I give up. Let's go." Dylan rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"May I accompany you? She is still under my jurisdiction." Sam said.

"Sure." Dylan replied. Leslie came out of her cell and was promptly handcuffed. They walked out into the hall heading back towards the Andromeda when Leslie suddenly turned towards Dylan and licks his cheek.

"You don't taste half as good as he did." Leslie said pointing at Sam. Dylan's face turned red with anger and Leslie ran for her life, all the way back to the Andromeda.

"Chelsey, my faithful young disciple, I need SCOPE!!!" Leslie screamed as she ran down the hall to Chelsey's quarters.

Matthew was lying on Chelsey's couch, drinking the last bottle of whiskey finishing all the alcohol in Chelsey's quarters.

"I love Jack Daniels.........he's my best friend." He stared lovingly at the bottle. Suddenly in ran Leslie squealing something about Scope, effectively waking Matthew out of his daze. Leslie ran to the couch and stood in front of Matthew panting. Matthew looked at Leslie with unfocused eyes.

"You need a drink." Matthew slurred drunkenly, holding the bottle up to her.

"But I need.........hey thanks!" Leslie said, taking the bottle and guzzling.

"Hey don't drink it all that's the last of it!" Matthew mumbled attempting to reach Leslie, only to collapse half way off the couch, out cold. In barged Dylan and Mr. Cotter as Leslie finished the last of the alcohol.

"What did you do to him?" Dylan exclaimed glancing at Matthew.

"Chelsey did it, these are her quarters. Duh!" Leslie exclaimed emphatically.

"Chelsey isn't here!" Dylan retorted.

"He did it!" she pointed to Sam.

"He just got here." Dylan reminded her.

"He did to himself, just ask him!" she folded her arms across her chest.

"He's out cold." Sam observed.

"Well, wake him up." Leslie stated.

"Alright, V-Deck! Now!" Dylan said forcefully. Leslie hung her head and went without a fuss to the Brig. "Now, you just stay here and think about what you did!!" Dylan told her, closing the door on her cell.

"I'm not two." She mumbled at his retreating back, she was then left alone, or at least she thought she was alone.