"--WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE POLISHER WON'T BE HERE FOR ANOTHER THIRTY BLIPBLAPS?!" Lapin exclaimed at another lagomorph. "I need him here NOW!!"
Hundreds of lagomorphs rushed about, preparing everything for the space shopping channel broadcast. The tv cameras arrived, technicians were making sure the lighting looked good and the equipment was properly calibrated, the catering crew was preparing the food for everyone.
Meanwhile, in the shadows, Max watched as his presumed "father" yelled at some more of his assistants.
"I can't let you do this, pop." Max spoke, then turned to face the weaponry room.
The Lagomorphus-9 weapons room was quite tempting, calling Max to its arsenal like a siren song of masochism and napalm. Max gnawed the shock-collar clean off his own neck and ran inside within a moment's notice. The little rabbity-thing felt like a kid in a candy store with the vast assortment of guns, bombs, and war tanks.
Max knew what he was going to do next.
Sam and Nova were outfitted in blue spacesuits with completely new sets of gear.
Nova still had her solar lance, and her twin laser guns. The ice lagomorphs now gave her a jet pack and a forcefield device, as well as anti-gravity boots. Sam kept his hat but now had two plasma ray guns, a jet pack, another set of anti-gravity boots and a device around his neck that allowed him to breathe in space.
Sam opened the door to the Desoto and climbed inside with Nova, both buckling their seatbelts. He slowly looked up at the stars.
"Sit tight, Max.." Sam spoke, longingly gazing up at Lagomorphus-9. "We're coming for you, little buddy!"
And with that, the Desoto zoomed across the stars, flanked by thousands and thousands of enormous and small ice-lagomorph battle starships.