Saturday Centus

This week we are given more words -- 150 of 'em -- but we are limited to dialog only, which is always a fun approach to storytelling. I've got Firefly on the brain lately, so here's something that could happen in the 'Verse. A bit macabre, I know, but I've done the chipper thing a lot lately. I'm a couple words over the limit, but what can I say, I'm a rule-breaker by nature.

"This is the Captain. All lifepods have been jettisoned at full capacity, so twelve hundred of our passengers and crew will live. For you six hundred who have chosen to remain on the ship, I must inform you that we expect our oxygen reserves to reach zero in approximately fifty-seven minutes. May God have mercy on all our souls."

"Alright, then. Less than an hour to live."

"Hadda die sometime. Gotta love these old rustbucket spaceliners, huh?"

"Helluva way to go."

"Nah. I'll kill you before we run out of air."

"What?!"

"You wanna die gaspin', tryin' to breathe? Gimme a blaster to the brainpan any day over that. One for you and then one for me."

"Thanks."

"Call it a last birthday present. Hey, bar bot!"

"Are you seriously ordering another martini?"

"Wanna die sober?"

"Don't wanna die at all."

"Yeah, well, that ain't in the cards. Dyin' in the black ain't so bad, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Cheers."