HOUSTON: The handoff has occurred. Shuttle computers now
controlling. Systems online. All systems are a go. Firing chain is armed. Sound-suppression water system
activated.
CMDR. SMITH: (giggling) Houston? Whoo-hoo! YEAH!
HOUSTON: Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Three main engines up and burning.
Two. One and liftoff of Shuttle...this opens a new chapter
in the completion of International Space Exploration and for the
collaboration of nations in space.
LT. BARNES: PFFT-A new chapter in my ass!!!
HOUSTON: 'the fuck is wrong with you guys? Are you fucking drunk again? Um, uh...we'll edit - Houston is now controlling. Roll maneuver is under way. Shuttle is heading into a head-down position, on course for a
51.6-degree, 137-by-36 statute-mile orbit. Shuttle already two miles downrange from the Kennedy Space Center at an altitude of 2.8 statute miles. You shitheads get it together up there!!!
CMDR. SMITH: Dude. I've got this. I've fucking totally got this. I can handle it. I'm driving. I've got it.
LT. MELFI: Hey Buck? I love you, man.
HOUSTON: Shut up. Engines now at 72 percent, beginning to throttle back up as the vehicle
passes through the area of maximum dynamic pressure. Shuttle commander, Houston,
go at throttle up.
CMDR. SMITH: Copy, go at throttle up. (bottle opens)
HOUSTON: Are you fucking drinking right now? Er...all three liquid-fueled engines are back at full throttle. One
minute, 20 seconds into the flight. At liftoff, the fully fueled
shuttle, boosters and external tank weighed about four-and-a-half
million pounds. It now has burned half of that weight in propellant.
LT. MELFI: Wow, man.
HOUSTON: Solid, solid rocket boosters are burning 11,000 pounds of propellant
every second. Coming up on one minute, 45 seconds. Standing by for
first-stage separation of the solid rocket boosters. Shuttle is at an
altitude of 129,000 feet, 24 miles in altitude, 25 miles downrange. All
three engines are still performing as expected. (sotto voce) Pilots are fucking hammered.
CMDR. SMITH: I heard that! I fucking heard that! You lissen here, Texas! I'mna- HUUUGHGHHHRRLRGGHHH!! Ah, uh, BLAAAAARRRGGHHHH!!
LT. BARNES: Shit, I can't see anything - zero G vomit -
HOUSTON: End launch record. Turn it off!