The Commander was still shaking when he stepped into the shower.

That stupid song kept pelting his brain like a sledgehammer. No wonder it took up so much space in Duck Dodger's brain. It must've been some kind of secret weapon, because his head hurt like crazy and it hadn't stopped, even after downing a handful of aspirin.

Primitive medicines, but that was all he had managed to find in the medicine cabinet in his bathroom. He thought maybe a hot shower would help him figure out what had happened, or at least calm him down. He was so riled up that he didn't even notice he was still wearing his clothes when he got in.

The Commander's heart jumped in his chest. He could almost picture it doing a weird little jig in there. Please, not now. It's not a good time for a meltdown, he thought. The last time he'd had a meltdown, he'd gotten tossed out of the ship and into the cold depths of space.

The Commander started to hyperventilate. Why was he having a cold sweat in a hot shower? He couldn't stop thinking about last time; it was so horrible and he'd thought he was legitimately going to die. When Tyr'ahnee had finally found him, he was quivering in a tight black ball, gibbering nonsense.

That sounds like a good idea, he thought stupidly. In fact, I'm going to do that right now. Without bothering to turn the shower off, he curled into a ball and put his thumb in his mouth, still shaking and cold.

It felt like decades had passed when he heard a familiar female voice. "Commander X-2! What are you doing? You're using up all the hot water!"

The Commander was physically incapable of responding. Even when Tyr'ahnee threw open the shower curtain, he couldn't do anything. His body was cramped and jittering, and he couldn't speak. Instead, he mumbled some of the song invading his head, trying not to bite his tongue.

Tyr'ahnee sighed. "Centurions, please take Commander X-2 to the hospital bay. He's having a meltdown again."

The Commander started crying as the Centurions hauled him out of the shower. Tyr'ahnee looked uncomfortable. "Commander, are you all right?"

The Commander couldn't answer. He was still crying and hyperventilating. Tyr'ahnee began to feel genuinely concerned. "Commander X-2, speak to me."

"My name is Marvin the Martian," sang the Commander in a deranged voice before he passed out.

Tyr'ahnee tried to fan him. "Get him to the hospital, NOW," she barked. Frightened, the Centurions sped off, wondering if their Commander was gone forever.

….

It. Still. Hurt.

The Commander couldn't do anything for a while but stare at the ceiling and try to breathe. He couldn't form a coherent thought either. Everything in his brain was blank, blank, blank. Nervous and unsure of where he was or who he was, he started fidgeting with his hands. For some reason, that calmed him down a little.

A delightful perfume filled his nose, and his heart started beating rapidly. He didn't know why until a beautiful Martian woman wearing a space bikini entered the room. His eyes morphed into little hearts, and his own heart beat faster.

The beautiful woman groaned. "I suppose it's a good sign that you're still irredeemably infatuated with me." She sat by his bed, her eyes filled with concern and discomfort. "Commander X-2, speak to me."

He tried to open his mouth, but his tongue didn't move. Instead, he pointed a finger at his head and made a circular motion.

The Martian woman wore an expression between amused and terrified. "Commander X-2, tell me you're still there. Now!" she demanded.

"But I'm Marvin," whined the Commander.

The woman looked ready to scream. "No, that's your actor. Who are YOU?"

The Commander shrank back in bed, feeling overwhelmed. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked slowly back and forth.

"What are you doing?" the woman demanded.

"I always do this when I'm upset," said the Commander. He wasn't sure how he knew this, but he knew in his gut that it was true.

Some of the tension melted from the woman's face. "That's true. Can you recall anything else?"

"My brain hurts because of this stupid song," he moaned.

The woman gave him a pitying look. "Poor Commander. Is there anything you need?"

The Commander was embarrassed, but he nodded. "Water, please."

The woman turned around. "Fetch him some water, NOW," she demanded of a robot dressed in a doctor's coat. It obeyed. The Commander took the glass gratefully and sipped it slowly. It felt as though the water was clearing mounds of mental dust out of his head.

Suddenly, he got a goofy look on his face. "Thank you for visiting me, Queen Tyr'ahnee." He leaned towards her and almost crushed her slender frame with a hug.

Tyr'ahnee rolled her eyes, but she didn't seem too annoyed. She gently but firmly pushed him away from her. "It's good to have you back, Commander. How are you feeling?"

The Commander shrank back again. "Horrible, just horrible, thanks to that idiot Duck Dodgers!" He felt heat on his face, and his fists clenched into impossibly tight balls.

The queen barely refrained from smacking him. Huffing, she held him down against the bed. "Slow down. You were brought here for a severe meltdown resulting in unconsciousness. Try to calm down if you can."

"I...I fainted?" the Commander said in a hurt voice, as though passing out had injured his pride somehow.

He could sense Tyr'ahnee was getting frustrated. "Does it matter?"

"No. I just can't believe what Dodgers did to me," whimpered the Commander. His head still felt awful, and he was scared it wouldn't go away.

"I can't believe what you did to you either," muttered Tyr'ahnee.

The Commander growled. "That's not very nice, my love...I mean, uh, err, my queen."

Tyr'ahnee snorted. "Very funny. Now, what exactly did that duck do to you?"

"Well, for starters, he messed with my brain so badly that I broke the...oh, I don't know what it's called, but I broke something hooked up to my brain and I couldn't remember who I was!" hissed the Commander. "And I gave him his brain back! Along with several pairs of my good underwear, and a clay heart I was making for you, and some coffee, and and and…"

Tyr'ahnee looked shocked. "You gave him his brain?"

The Commander felt dizzy. "I think so. I told him to take everything and never come back again, I think."

Tyr'ahnee grit her teeth. "I'm afraid I'll have to punish you, Commander, headache or not."

The Commander's eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed out again. Tyr'ahnee ground her teeth again and turned back to the robot doctor. "Please fetch some smelling salts."

The robot did as it was told. Tyr'ahnee thrust the jar under where the Commander's nose would be if he had one. The Commander jolted awake. "That's funny, it smells like Duck Dodgers in here," mumbled the Commander. "That is to say, it smells terrible!"

Tyr'ahnee laughed so hard she almost choked. "What's so funny?" asked the Commander. She kept laughing until she was brought to tears.

"Nothing," Tyr'ahnee managed to gasp. "Now, how shall I punish you? Let's see…"

The Commander nibbled on his fingers. His stomach felt like sea serpents were roiling inside. He hoped she'd just make him clean out the bathroom. He could handle something like that. But if it wasn't…

"Well, since you hate my beloved Dodgers so much, how about if I make you get your underwear back from him?" the queen said.

The Commander laughed nervously. "I don't care about my underwear that much, my queen."

"You can't just go commando under that skirt for the rest of your life," the queen said. "Besides, I'd like you to tell him that I'm having a banquet next month, and he's the guest of honor."

"Wh-wh-what?!" spluttered the Commander.

"You heard me. Now get going!" insisted the queen.

"My queen, my head still hurts," the Commander said. "Can't I at least take the rest of the day to recover?"

Tyr'ahnee sighed. "All right. But I'm getting you up bright and early tomorrow to complete your punishment."

The Commander let out a breath of relief. "Thank you, my queen." He leaned over and kissed her.

She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she actually kissed him back. He could feel his face getting hot again, but this time, it almost felt good.

The queen pulled away from him, as though ashamed. "Well, I must be going. Farewell, Commander." And with a graceful swish of her purple skirt, she was gone.

The Commander lay back in bed and looked at the ceiling again. He didn't know if the kiss had helped or if it had happened on its own, but his head was starting to feel better already.

He smiled and turned over in bed, closing his eyes. Although he was going to be punished, he felt contented that the queen cared about him, even if she loved that moron Duck Dodgers.

Duck Dodgers...the Commander smiled. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd get to pull some kind of prank on him when he got his underwear back. Now, even his punishment didn't seem so bad.

The Commander smirked. Then he stretched, yawned, and let himself drift off peacefully. Tomorrow would be all right, and so would he.