Suit Time

Dexter flexed his arms and bicycled his legs, a model of modern military adaptation, ready for the nastiest environmental surprise. "Suit time! Just gimme that suit time. I love it!"

Emily gave her comrade a little bang on the head. "You getting good ventilation, Dex old buddy?"

"Good to go, good to go! Go anywhere in the suit. Do anything in the suit." Dexter jabbed a fat gloved thumb in the air.

The Sergeant came over looking skeptical. "Hey Runbird, what's with Dexter?"

Emily pressed the eyepiece of her hood against Dexter's and had a good hard look. "Could be he's hypoxic," she speculated. "Could be he's just a jerkoff."