Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- Terri. - Woody.
Something came out of the top of the mountain, and it hit us.
Charge primary APU.
He's had more hours in the sims than the rest of us put together.
I know.
- Squeeze it out. - Jim.
Four pallets, oral, topical medications...
But we gotta find out.
Sixty percent atmosphere.
- Here. - Thanks, man.
It's a miracle he's survived this long.
I have to make this... make this fast.
Terri? Jim?
Even if Luke was in great shape, he couldn't get home.
Nothing other than what I'm looking at right here.
- Jim. Jim, what are you doing? - Jim, what are you doing?
That's you shuffling your feet around while you grab my butt.
- We'll do the science, and we'll do it really well... - Yeah.
It was tough as hell, but I'd do it again!
- You think that's a good idea? - Yeah.
Thank you for saving my life, buddy.
- Is that possible? - Yeah.
Squeeze out the liquid.
Thanks, darlin'.
♪ Ooh, baby, baby ♪
Wh-What do you mean? What... What came?
Ninety percent atmosphere.
Was that loud? Oh, well, it's done now.
Luke. Come on, baby. He's not comin'.
He's right, Ray. We got a real shot here.
Soon as I get the hatch open, let's start dumping the cargo.
- I know. I'm sorry, baby. - Mm-hmm.
Then a year on the surface, six months back. It's, like, two years, you know?
If we leave here without getting some answers, they all died in vain.
Here we go.
Yeah, and drifting through eternity will ruin your whole day.
Copy that, Jim?
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on, Jim. What if you're wrong?
You gotta go back now.
- What? - Sixty-three minutes after Mars Recovery went off-line.
I am.
Well, uh, my suit jets are gone, and I'm still carrying a good deal of velocity.
It was a privilege.
There was a low sound that...
You know? It's...
- Uh-huh. - Oh, thank you, Reneé.
I'd better bring him up to speed.
and it's a pretty historic one.
The noise from the face. It's not a signature.
No! Please, God, no!
Terri.
That's just what we tried next.
You'd do the same for me.
It worked. Oh, God, it worked.
everybody died, but I was spared.
Hell of a cleanup job, but so far no major damage.
Well, so far, our modelling says it should be in pretty good shape.
- I can't let you die. I'm sorry. - Woody.
- Jim. Jim, your suit! - Stop. Stop it! Jim, you're depressurizing.
If you guys can save enough atmosphere...
Don't you see?
It's kind of like a marriage, really...
You can pick up these postcards at your local NASA souvenir shop.
It's a big fella too.
- Are you okay? - Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.
No choice. I'll be okay. Here we go!
- Solution? - Replace optical relay.
- You okay? - Why can't it just be about science? - Yes.
They're adding a wonderful chapter to their incredible story...
With eight tubes of antifungal cream.
Oh.
- One. - Let's go to Mars.
We don't have time, Phil. Figure it out now.