Colin cocked back the gun and saw there was a terminal.
"Hold on, I'm not ready." Colin told the eager drooling bimbos.
"Sure, we'll like, wait... heehee..." a blonde bimbo said as she squeezed her DD boobs.
After typing a few commands, Colin pushed enter.
The speakers blared a familiar tune as Colin whipped out the assault rifle.
"I'm ready!... to mop the floor with you diease filled sluts!" Colin roared.
(Begin playing "Doom-Level 1 Theme" here.)
The bimbos began erupting in gushes of blood as a butt ton of bullets came their way.
Colin charged, headshoting bimbo after bimbo as they squealed and fell. Colin spun in the blood puddle to send out a ring of bullets that nailed about ten of them at once.
"Raaaawwwwg!" Colin yelled as he sent out a stream of bullets that tore through the busty horde like nails through plywood.
Hours had passed, and Colin headshot the last two bimbos standing with the rest of his pistol ammo. He collapsed on the floor and took a rest.
He had a rush and a low all at once. He had just mowed down a bimbo horde, but the ship was long gone. He was still stuck here in a bimbo infested land, and he doubted the Survivalists would be happy to find out about it.
"At least... there's *pant* some distance... b-between us..." He wheezed.
Inputting a series of codes he found on a desk, Colin activated the bases' security systems and registered himself as the operator in control.
In the footage from before the launch, Colin zoomed on a face and scanned it. It was the face of a guy named Lance.
"Lance, Lance, Laaaance... you've screwed over the wrong guy..." Colin said to himself.
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Ending: First Base
Colin sat at his new desk and drank some Dew.S.A. he dug out of a mini fridge. He looked over the cameras and smiled at the progress being made on his custom designed security system modifications. The crew working on it? People scattered across the bimbo plagued place they called home, working as part of a deal for shelter and food.
Lance would be back, and Colin would be ready