Mickey 17 (2025)

[bunniefuu]

How did I survive that?

It was some damn fall.

sh*t, my comms busted.

All my thermals busted too.

I should have got snapped

in half and died on the way down.

Instead of slowly

turning into a meat popsicle.

Cool.

Tina!

Tina!

I'm down here!

Mickey?

Tina!

Tina, I'm down here!

Mickey, whoa.

You haven't died yet?

No.

Hold on.

Oh sh*t.

Your flamethrower's still good.

Not a single scratch.

It's a good thing I

thought to come down here.

Weapons will be happy to see this.

Yeah, I'm gonna turn this in, okay?

I can take it.

You're not mad, right?

I'm just taking this?

I mean, it's not

looking very good for you, right?

Also, line only goes this far.

Uh-huh.

Yeah, no.

We're cool.

You shouldn't have

to take the rest, guys.

Yeah, that's what I'm saying.

Plus, they're gonna

reprint you back out tomorrow anyway.

Yeah.

Hey, Mickey.

Yeah?

What's it feel like to die?

I'm sure you're used to it by now.

Still.

How many times is this?

You're Mickey 16?

Jerk.

18 after this one.

Well, it's nice knowing you.

Have a nice death.

See you tomorrow.

Oh, great.

Why not?

Oh, that's a pretty big one.

Hopefully I'll just

get swallowed in one go.

It's gotta be better

than slowly freezing to death.

I guess.

Or maybe not.

But they just printed

me out again every time I died.

All my data is saved,

and I just get a whole new body.

They do all this kind

of regular uploads of memories

and my personality traits

and re-implant it back in my brain.

That's some crazy

technology, man. It's just...

Let's just say it's advanced.

It's very advanced.

Wait!

Just hold on a second.

Just like...

Just relax. Breathe.

Breathe.

The whole body training

and memory transplanting thing

to be honest, it was so

ridiculously ahead of its time

that it caused so many ethical

fights and religious blah blah blah.

It was actually banned on Earth,

and they only allowed now in

outer space for expandables like me.

So from the second

we left the atmosphere,

they made me work my a*s

off all the way to this planet,

giving me one mission after another.

Uh, Tech? What's going on?

The actual cable's here already.

Um, the thing is, Mickey...

Hey, medical, you want to tell him?

Tell me what?

Hi, Mickey. How are you doing?

Are you experiencing any

vertigo, nausea or dizziness?

Uh, I guess I am feeling a little dizzy.

It's only going to get worse

from here, Mickey, with a nice fever, too.

Truth is, you're exposed to

unthinkable levels of radiation right now,

which is why we sent

you out in the first place.

Okay.

If you could give us a

full description of your symptoms.

So, a couple things I want to go

through on our cosmic radiation checklist.

First, how long

until your skin starts to burn?

Then, how long until you go blind?

And of course, how long until you die?

That's the real nut we're after.

There was this one time

in my fourth grade science class,

I messed with a lab frog.

I just figured this

all must be my punishment.

Mickey, take off your glove so I can

see what's happening under your space suit.

Oh! Oh! Wow!

Did you see that?

Good morning.

Keep yourself hydrated, Mickey.

Start to feel extremely crushed.

Our cardiac, I

think the dose was too high.

Who cares, Dorothy? He's

going to be dead in 10 minutes.

Just focus on

getting all the blood samples.

He's going to bleed through

his eyes, nose, mouth, ears and rectum.

Make sure to collect

separate samples from every home, okay?

And keep the memory

upload going at the same time.

This Mickey

special, you know that, right?

But of all the Mickey's, you

will have the shortest life spanner.

I heard, I'm telling you this.

Oh, actually, good news.

It's more like 15.

Much better, isn't it?

I would have been filthy

rich by now with life insurance,

except I've obviously

expendables are uninsurable.

There's no workers comp,

no unions, no pension benefits.

Now, I wouldn't be surprised

if you were thinking at this point,

"Well, now, why did

you do this to yourself?"

Well, because I had a

friend who told me that one day

macarons would sell better than burgers.

And because I trusted this shitty friend

and I got an enormous

loan from a wonderful gentleman

to open a macaron store.

All right, all right, calm down.

I'm well aware

that you're four weeks left.

Just think of this

as a little field trip.

In case of what, man, poor

old should you fail to reimburse us

in a timely manner.

Besides, you two have

a lot of time on your hands

with your little macaron shotgun under.

Whoo! This is quite a

show you got on here for me.

Quite a show. The

message is clear. I hear you.

I hear it loud and

clear. I'm late. I'm late.

The money is late. It's

coming. Two people behind me.

Darius Blank, a

name I wish I'd never heard.

Mr. Blank isn't all

that concerned with money.

He has plenty.

This Billy's just one of his many assets.

Watching his delinquent borrowers die,

savoring the details of

death, that he truly enjoys.

The message is clear.

You can stop now. We can stop.

You know, it's... I hear you.

Two weeks is all it

takes. All it takes now.

And most people...

Who caught that, gentlemen, four days ago

at Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia?

Looks expensive.

Best assured,

anyone who misses the deadline,

we chase them to the ends of the Earth.

So we decided to get off of Earth.

Nothing was working out,

and I got no family lying on me.

So I applied to the dead. Lying on me.

So I applied to the colony expedition,

but there's like a million

other people with the same idea.

Seems like the

whole of this rotten planet

was running away from something.

I guess everybody's got money problems.

But anyway, we had to get on this ship,

because it was the

last one of the season.

Waves upon waves of

people desperate to leave Earth.

It's clear, anti-migrationists

are talking to a brick wall

when they insist on fixing up the Earth

instead of risking lives

by migrating to another planet.

It feels like these passionate applicants

are already off in space.

More importantly, this is the expedition

led by former

Congressman Kenneth Marshall,

who lost his last two elections.

Is this failed politician?

Now trying to

establish a kingdom beyond the stars,

is it his fanatical supporters

who won him a generous sponsorship

from a particular

religious organisation and corporation?

So many questions left unanswered.

Let's go and talk to the crowd.

Excuse me, are you a

Kenneth Marshall supporter?

I am. I am, big time.

I am a full-on supporter.

I basically am the one and only.

Are you from Marshall's official channel?

No way!

So Marshall's watching this right now?

Oh, my God.

You need to pick me.

I swear. Please, pick me.

You need people young and hungry.

Ladies and gentlemen, we

have another mild-stand start today.

Access is now restricted to game three.

Please visit our stand

for discounted goggles and masks.

Additional by present

on with partial pay, as always.

The other expeditions

wouldn't take me, but they're wrong.

I promise I can fix toilets.

I make

gingerbreads. You've got to take me.

Make me a shot.

"Expendable"?

You're planning to

be an expendable? Seriously?

You read through the whole application.

Uh, yeah.

I should have read through it.

I didn't have too much of a choice.

I don't have any bonafide certifications.

I don't really

have any skills whatsoever.

Then I find out Timo's already

called dibs on a position for himself.

As a flitter pilot, he only just got his

learner's permit a couple of weeks before.

No idea what he

had to come up with to pull

that off, but

you've got to give it to him.

Excuse me.

Is there, like,

some construction going on?

Sorry, what?

I don't hear like a...

I don't hear like a...

No, like a chainsaw.

Uh, no.

I wanted to get the hell out of there.

Somewhere where the

sound couldn't follow me.

Far out into space.

You read through the paperwork.

Yes.

You read it, so you know right.

This is going to be a pretty extreme job.

But it's also going to be fun.

Fun. I'll explain all the details.

I got so distracted by that

smell, the smell of this woman's hair.

It was like it brought back

some faraway memory or something.

That giant tank

downstairs is called a cycler.

It takes organic

waste produced in the spaceship.

Apple peels, chicken bones, rotten eggs,

dead bodies, human waste, you name it.

Then it combines, refines and recycles

them and sends a portion to this printer.

Raw materials for a human body.

Once you die and the

committee approves, it'll

print a new version

of your body within 20 hours.

Take your clothes off. Change into this.

I couldn't even

hear anything she was saying.

It was like all my

senses were focused on my nose.

Like real deja vu, but for a smell.

We're going to do a

full scan of your bio data.

That means you'll be

reprinted exactly as you are right now.

Forever.

I better not this. Otherwise

it'll be there every now and then.

Well, I'm glad she didn't

know about the one on my butt.

So after she does the body

scan, she uploaded my memories.

Call it a personality backup.

I got to do this once a week so I don't

have any big gaps

every time they print me out.

In the past you would

have needed a hard drive the

size of a commercial

refrigerator to copy an adult brain.

Now this little brick, clever, right?

So I was injected with some special

solution and brought

back a flood of old memories.

Too many memories.

We were heading

home from the supermarket.

I asked to sit in the front seat.

I said I'm big enough.

And that's when I saw the red button.

I pressed it and she crashed.

I pulled the trigger.

This is the final

requirement to become expendable.

Prove to me you

have faith in this system.

From now on you

need to get used to dying.

This is your job.

I began the four and a

half year journey as Mickey One.

When you're stuck in a spaceship

for that long, food is everything.

Warning, Mickey One. Seven calories

over the current ration allocation.

On that first day

in the cafeteria, I think I

might have started

thinking, what have I done a little?

The whole room was full of people eating

this crappy food

and there's total silence.

Like you could hear a

pin drop until Kenneth

Marshall and his

wife, Ilfa, walk in.

And a whole bunch of

people just started going nuts.

I was thinking, what

the hell am I doing here?

But that's when I saw her.

Nasha.

That was the first

time I saw Nasha Barrage.

On day one of this long journey.

All right, enough and now.

Keep that up for one

minute and you waste five calories.

That's two percent of the

precious meal you're eating right now.

As you know, our

number one priority is to

conserve food resources

until our arrival at Niffle Line.

So that we maximize our survival rate.

So listen up.

Sexual intercourse, for example.

Each session

consumes a whopping 100 calories.

At least.

Depending on the participant's

duration times friction equals...

The point is Kenneth is talking to the

committee about banning

all sexual activity on the ship.

Darling, are you sure this

is the right time to bring that up?

Oh honey, I'm sorry. I

was just trying to help you.

It's okay, Ilfa.

Am I doing okay?

Should I go harder?

Yes, yes. Go harder.

No!

For the pioneers, once we've arrived at

Niffle Line, we've

secured our food production.

We will launch the greatest

sex encouragement campaign in history.

Come on!

You will spread

your seed across the planet.

But we survive!

Never survive!

Never your mark will walk the line!

Propagated species,

we shall defend the land!

So we started infesting.

With love.

Please.

Please.

Unfortunately, this is...

You're not gonna speak.

Come on, it's so happy.

Those four years would have

felt like 40 if it weren't for Nasha.

She stayed with me in the best of times.

And kept by my

side in the worst of times.

Not everyone gets lucky

enough to find a soulmate like this.

None of this would have happened

if I'd never boarded this spaceship.

So I'll hail the

great loan shark Darius Blank.

Thanks, Darius.

But it wasn't like

I was slacking, though.

I was super busy

every day taking care of Nasha.

She's an all-in-one elite agent.

It's not easy supporting someone who's a

soldier, a police

officer, and a firefighter.

But what she sees in me, I got no idea.

I'm just grateful.

But as soon as I step out the

door, the ship was filled with mostly...

dickets.

Hey, Mickey, right?

Come with me to ask.

What's it like to die?

You know, when you're

reprinted, now how does that feel?

Oh, come on, just tell

us. We really want to know.

Imagine spending years

elbow-to-elbow with these bozos.

It was enough to

push anyone over the edge.

Sometimes even if Nasha, who is a model

citizen, would have

to step in and remind us...

that we were all one big happy family.

They're to help one another.

They're to have each other's backs.

A tight-knit, harmonious community.

And the committee has

reduced Mickey Nines' rations by half...

and the scientific manual

cyclo-cleaning until further notice.

Hey, Mickey.

You must be hungry. Have some more.

Uh, thanks, Kai.

Can you change your shampoo?

Shampoo?

It's only one shampoo in

this entire spaceship. Thank you.

Okay.

It was a very long

trip in a beautiful community.

Hi.

But, uh, Nasha was

obviously my one and only, you know.

For real.

And as for my one and

only job, I was proud of it.

I felt like I was part of the team.

Mati! Mati!

Oh, last one!

Oh, Korea!

Oh! Quickly!

My brother travelers...

She had sisters.

And sisters.

It is long that we have come

four years together in this ship...

and that we love

you like our merry old family.

And here we are, right below us awaits...

our merry old planet of purity.

What's wrong with him? He's flying away!

Maybe he has a blue or something.

Like a virgin vanilla ice cream.

Touched for the very first time.

What do we really call him?

Whoever's gone down

there first come freeze to death.

That's it. Make a

deep breath. Fill your lungs.

Imagine there's an

unknown virus in the air...

and you're sucking in every single

microscopic particle floating around.

All the viruses...

fill every avioli.

So good!

Oh, so good!

Brilliant.

There really was an

unknown virus in the air.

Uh, lethal one?

Don't move! Don't move!

Oh, man! He's alive!

So f*cking long.

I'm fine.

Thank you.

In the end, thanks to the lab

rats Mickey 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16...

getting stab gas dumped

and burned, we got the vaccine.

My great gift to mankind.

And so, we didn't need oxygen masks...

and we could see our

breath as much as we wanted.

Look at that, Jennifer. Ridiculous.

I can't believe

it's the living that thing.

I know, right?

Plantfall was ages ago and we're still

eating the same crappy inflight TV dinner.

Precisely why we ought

to build residential complexes.

Grow crops as soon as possible.

Yeah, sure.

Spread the seed.

Invest the land.

Propagate the species.

It's freezing.

Whoa. Look at that colour.

Yeah, it's beautiful.

He's such a close. You

should learn some breakfault moves.

You okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

Come on.

What's breakfall?

Look at the colour.

Take us for perfect breakfault.

Yeah.

Shut up.

God.

What is it?

What's that?

What's that?

Get out! Get out! Get out!

What the f*ck?

What the f*ck?

What's going on?

What's that?

What the hell was that?

I don't know, but

there are more in the hole.

Let's get the f*ck out of here.

Come on, Mickey. Let's go.

Go, go, go. Move, move.

Thank you.

Mickey.

Mickey, it's my show.

You f*cking useless little as*h*le.

You're an expendable.

You're here to be expended, dammit.

I'm so sorry.

And my is Jennifer

Chilton, a precious, fertile,

female, dead and not of you.

How do you try this?

You know, that's what I want to know.

You disgusting.

Really?

You like my sauce?

No, no, no, no, darling.

Those things, look at them.

What's going on?

They're delicious, aren't they?

Oh, how do you not like it?

You, stand still. Don't move.

They lust for human flesh.

They're creepy.

Oh, honey, that's perfect.

You should call them creepers.

I'll call them creepers.

I'm calling them creepers.

President, are you listening?

Expendable.

I decided in the

committee that going forward,

your rations will be halved.

So my shift doubled.

14 hours every day, seven days a week,

until I brought home a creeper sample.

Tima! Tima!

How did I survive that?

Woah, you haven't died yet?

What's it feel like to die?

Even on my 17th go around,

I really hate dying.

Still,

always.

Every time.

Bon Appetit.

Where am I?

What's going on?

I'm not coming out of the printer.

I'm still 17.

Why didn't that thing eat me?

I was passed out.

I not look tasty enough.

Oh, got it.

You're saving me for the kiddos.

What a great mom.

Oh, please just make it quick.

Come on guys, big bites. Big bites.

Ow!

Where are you taking me now?

Is my meat gone bad

after all that reprinting?

Oh, sh*t.

I'm still good meat.

I'm perfectly good meat.

I taste fine.

Ditching me out here in the middle of

nowhere.

It's not cool.