So I am plowing ahead with Lost In Space.
Why? Because I am not a quitter. I’m going to finish this turd sandwich. It’s like building up a a tolerance to iocane powder. If I can handle Deep Space 9, I can handle this.
The Robinsons and other survivors are stranded on an unknown planet with dangerous creatures.
They don’t have guns.
If they want guns, they have to use the 3-D printer to make them, but they need a “colony representative” to authorize the build.
Keep in mind they are on their way to a new planet in a new solar system with a small colony of perhaps only only a few thousand people (it’s never specified).
So of all the survival equipment they have, they don’t have guns, and when a family is stranded alone in the wilderness far from civilization, they can’t make any.
The Maureen finds out that John tried to print one and couldn’t, and she tears into him about “you know how I feel about weapons in the house.”
Yet mom completely trusts Will in the care of an alien robot.
The robot somehow manages to override the gun ban and prints one, then gives it to Will, who hides it under his mattress where it is stolen by Dr. Smith (who has already killed one person and tried to kill another). So the ONLY gun on the planet in in the hands of a psychopath.
Sure, it makes for more suspenseful plot, but Jesus. You’d think that the first thing that would happen when a bunch of people are stranded on a planet filled with dangerous creatures is break out with the guns.
People are going to get eaten, I guarantee it, and I’m not going to give a shit because they all support gun control.
I’m not going to go into the woods on Earth without a gun because I don’t want to get turned into bear shit.
If I’m going to go to an unknown and dangerous planet, I’m going to take a gun because I don’t want to get turned into alien shit.