subject: Brit plumber to visit ISS posted: Fri, 28 Jan 2005 17:12:56 -0000
[bigtime LOL. Here's a URL to the article detailing the unknown
"white and brown residue" that is accumulating on the OUTSIDE of the
International Space Station (is that extraterrestrial bacteria,
folks?): http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/4208155.stm - Stu]
Brit plumber to visit ISS
By Lester Haines
Published Friday 28th January 2005 10:46 GMT
There is some welcome news today for International Space Station
residents Salizhan Sharipov and Leroy Chiao who have been gamely
battling for some time to fix the ISS's cantakerous Elektron oxygen
generator. They will shortly be favoured by a visit from a British
plumber who, according to a recommendation from one of Sharipov's
mates down the pub, will "do the job for cash if you don't fancy
paying the VAT".
We fully expect that this will be an end to the matter. British
plumbers are highly regarded among the international scientific
community for their punctuality, high standards and reasonable
prices. Of course, it's taken Dave and his apprentice Doug a while to
reach Baikonur cosmodrome in their white Transit, not to mention the
nightmare they had finding a decent cafe in Ukraine, so we at Vulture
Central had time to run the scenario through our Visiting Tradesman
Emulator™ - a program designed by Reg boffins to predict how the
historic repair mission will unfold. The results may surprise you:
ISS. 8am GMT. Thursday. There is a knock at the airlock.
Salizhan Sharipov: (Opening inner airlock door) Hello?
Dave the Plumber: Hello mate. I'm Dave. Here about the oxygen
generator...
Sharipov: But you said you'd be here in October...
Dave: Yeah, well, got a bit held up on a job for the Iranian nuclear
weapons program. Can't be helped, mate. Stick the kettle on, I'm
gasping. Got any biscuits? Rich Tea would be nice but we'll settle
for HobNobs. Doug! Get the bloody tools out of the shuttle and shut
the bloody door. It's brass monkeys in here.
Two hours later...
Dave: Nice cuppa, cheers. Right, let's get to it. It's an Elektron
you say? Never liked 'em meself. Can't get the parts. You'd be better
off with a German model. Of course, you've got to order 'em special,
takes about three weeks for delivery...
Dave whips out battery-powered pocket radio, tunes it to Radio One
and cranks the volume up to full before prising the cover off the
Elekron with a screwdriver.
Leroy Chiao: We thought it might be gas bubbles in the pipework...
Dave: Yeah right. Tell you what, you leave the dodgy plumbing to me
and we'll let you get on with your going boldly where no man has gone
before. Agreed? But stick the kettle on before engaging the warp
drive, would'ya? I'm gasping here. Doug! Chuck me the number eight
flange rotivator. No, not that one, you plonker - the one that looks
like a 10-pound lump hammer.
One hour later...
Sharipov: How's it looking?
Dave: (Sucking air through teeth and shaking head in a very serious
manner) Jesus. Who installed this mate? Didn't know you had cowboys
in Russia. It's gonna cost yer...
Chiao: Yes, but how much?
Dave: Dunno. I'll have to go to the wholesalers and get the trade
prices. Basically, you've got a knackered interchange loop, the pump
intercompressor is completely f***ed and your diagnostic board has
burnt out. Oh yeah, and some pillock has bolloxed the cover by
prising it off with a screwdriver. Doug, get the tools back in the
shuttle sharpish.
Sharipov: Hold on a minute... We need this fixed today. We've just
used three quarters of our remaining oxygen boiling the kettle.
Dave: No need to be like that pal. I said I can only come out and
have a look. If I carried a full set of spares for every crappy
Russian-built oxygen generator on the market I'd need a van like
Doctor bloody Who's bloody Tardis, wouldn't I?
Chiao: Wait, I've just noticed that the main power supply lead is
loose. I think a terminal screwdriver would do it. Have you got one
handy?
Dave: Bloody hell. The tools are in the airlock now mate. I'll have
to charge you another call-out fee if the boy's gonna piss-arse about
bringing the whole lot back in...
At this point Sharipov angrily attempts to throw a packet of freeze-
dried bourbon biscuits on the floor in a fit of pique but, due to the
absence of gravity, it simply floats harmlessly over Dave's shoulder.
Dave: Alright, I tell you what - two grand cash and no questions
asked. And stick the kettle on. Me throat's drier than a eunuch's
codpiece...®
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