[Growltigger]

Growltigga and Mac whisper to each other for a few moments, before nodding and reaching agreement.

With a flamboyant wave, Mac triggers again the sprinkler system and turns on a supersized stereo with some cool flamenco and salsa tunes on it....

The mud is washed off the brawling horde of beeeeyewwwwwtiful young ladies as they continue to scrap in the wet....

Mac and Growltigga turn to each other and shake hands, a treaty is reached and the Galactic Federation, and Mac, Galactic Overlord of Fart Point are now the best of chums......

Now all we need is a triumphal party, we have the music, we, ahem, have dancing partners..., we have a planet full of top booze, thanks to Taz and Narf we have stacks of kentucky fried rodent, we have managed to lose that daft first officer of mine, Mr Ryker, I mean Mr Dogscoff, what else could we possibly need?