It's a grand thing to have a Space Patrol you can call in when the giant robots have you cornered, or when the mad scientists have gotten a little more mental than usual. Nothing beats it, in fact: just pick up the radio and call in an alert - in theory - and before you know it, the Patrolpersons are flying in from their orbital platforms with rayguns blazing and blasting till the cows come home, the giant robots decide to go away, and peace is restored.

In theory.

But all too often you can't get past the switchboard... and when you do, you find yourself trying to have a conversation with some mug that can't get his mind off space pirates.

Space pirates!

This, I'm sorry to say, is pretty much where we find our friend Nat in this picture.