She better fucking not

Hell yeah it’s SHAWTIME.

Don’t tell Seven.

I’d like to think I’m not a toddler but this one is an entire mood.

Ouch.

It’s okay, y’all. I’m just taking a long nap. Seven’s got this.

Black licorice. The favorite candy of the sentient tar goo.

I am proud of you, Seven of Nine. Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Don’t wreck my ship.

Some Dead Guy’s Log, supplemental. I still don’t have any sort of clue what I’m doing here. Is there a bar? I feel like there should be a bar.

I feel like I’m in limbo. Who the fuck is it that weighs your sins? Anubis? Osiris? Hell if I know. But whoever it is, they better hurry up.

Oh shit, it’s been several days, hasn’t it? Time is really fucking different in the void. I’m not sure if it’s better, or worse.

Anyway, going back to my corner of limbo to grump until the Great Bird of the Galaxy or whatever says they want me back.

Oh, and support the #WGAStrike These people create awesome stories, if I do say so myself, and don’t get the pay (or respect) they deserve.

You all are such lovely people, and make my day brighter just for being here. Also, I would like to be assimilated.

This guy is a coward of the highest order.