That the Second Mate, half witless,
Out of breath and frightened spitless,
Burst in crying, "Chief, we're on our way to hell!"
"What, already?" drawled McNeer
But the mate, pale green with fear,
Bawled, "Go get the hypos working, without fail!
And go do it on the double,
'Cause we're in a peck of trouble!
A rogue asteroid is riding on our tail!"
IV