The Orville Guide

Before Ed could suggest the universal translator equivalent of offering it a napkin, Lieutenant Commander Bortus spoke from his station. “Captain. I have detected a small Union science vessel inside the cloud. It appears to be… half-digested.”

“It is the only logical choice,” Isaac stated.

And on the viewscreen, the Orville —smelling faintly of burnt seaweed and victory—sailed off toward its next completely absurd adventure. The Orville

Ed sighed. He looked at Kelly. “Remind me why I took this job?”

Ed couldn’t argue with that. He leaned back in his chair. “Helm, set a course for the nearest bar. I need a drink that doesn’t taste like a war crime.” Before Ed could suggest the universal translator equivalent

The Orville emitted a concentrated burst of the Pepto-Abysmal’s flavor signature directly into the cloud’s “taste” receptors. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the entire cloud shuddered—a cosmic, full-body dry heave. The amber haze turned a violent shade of chartreuse. A booming, psychic wave of pure revulsion washed over the ship’s hull.

As if on cue, the Orville shuddered. Alarms blared on Ed’s communicator. “Captain,” came the voice of Ensign Turco, panicked. “The cloud is… licking us. Very enthusiastically.” It appears to be… half-digested

“It will taste of photons and lies,” Bortus said grimly.

Back on the bridge, the crew was picking themselves up off the floor.