Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: 1543-96745/LACU/á_Und_2314, date of the the first launch.[]
Space. Its...spacious, vast...vastness is...screw that. Starting again. Caham... Space. The final frontier. The last unexplored bastion in a world of discoveries. I am captain James Kleiser Quirk. And me and the crew...or is it 'the crew and I'? ...anyway...We will enter that bastion, going where no man has ever really wanted to go before.
Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: 8454]d87r6-547fn/GREEN SNUFFLES,;&$gabrin.[]
Being a captain is not such a exciting affair as I previously thought. Nothing happened yesterday, and I believe the crew is starting to grow weary. They look at me as if I was supposed to do something besides whining about how boring this thing is. I think their eyes, their dark, scornful eyes can read deep into my soul, and I feel I'll break at any second.
Earlier this day, or at least I think it was this day, you can never tell in this shifty space, this shifty, space that only wants you to turn your back before eating your heart out. I can feel the eyes of creatures horrible beyond my imagination watching me, eating me inside, Lovecraft-ily.
Where was I? Oh yes, then he asked me if I wanted coffee. I could tell by his evil gaze that he just wanted to kill me with poisoned coffee, or even worse...laxatives. When I refused, by subtly implying that he may have possibly tainted my coffee with his evil intentions, he seemed offended. I know he is plotting my demise now. So that's why I'll never sleep again. NEVER!
Later, one of my administrators came asking for a pay raise. I knew he would spend that pay raise buying nuclear bombs and strap them onto the ship in order to blow me to smithereens, so I said no, of course. And I might also have yelled for him to tell that to his Illuminati friends, I'm not sure.
Then, when sat on my captain's chair in order to observe the bridge, I noticed that our course was suspiciously close to a red star. Quickly understanding their devious plan of throwing the ship into the sun and killing us all, I punched and kicked everyone and managed to change our course. The bastards, seeing that I foiled their plan, stood there motionlessly, as I triumphally returned to my quarters, where I stand now.
Soon. Very soon, I'll have to get rid of them.
Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: K96 Y432 X532356 Z24566 Dadungs[]
Bitchass! So, are you guys from mission control listening? Here's Kwik, captain Kwik. I helped the other guys to get rid of that loony. Hope you don't mind. I wanted to do that to him since he gave me that F in applied astrophysics last year. The old bastard. We have footage of his head exploding in the vacuum of space, in case you guys ever need any MORE footage on that.
So, as I was saying, we are now commandeering the ship. Don't worry, we'll still work for you...as long as we get paid, that is. But I suppose there ain't many people like us willing to do your dirty work, so I'll be waiting for further orders. See ya...or hear ya... or whatever. Well, what you think folks? Was that a good first impres...? What? It's still on? Frickinhell!
Hey again. Today we'll go on a tour around the ship, showing you the magnificent people that YOUR MONEY is helping to survive! I'll just unscrew this thing...or do I need to press this lever? Spook, gimme some help here! ...So, as I was saying, this amazing ship, runs on the best technology YOUR MONEY can buy.
Which unfortunately isn't much, so feel free to send in more! We are always needing some more money for the continuous quality services we provide.
"Specially the engineering department. I have my eyes on that 5424 mark II trans-matter-deatomizer. Or maybe a new engine that runs on something other than teknobabil crystals. Those are so...last decade."
Yeah, what Spook said. Also I think we seriously need a soccer field. So come this way, I'll show you the installations...this is the medical...infirmary of cure which is the next evolutionary step after an infirmary, except is way more expensive. Let's talk to Bawnes, our chief medical officer.
So Bawnes, tell the people at home why we threw Quirk into the great dark?
"..."
Bawnes?
"Oh...ah...yeah...Quirk...he...uh, yelled at me when I offered him coffee, he said something along the lines of "You are evil, you poisoned my coffee, I know your obviously evil intentions, and if you try it again I'll stab you! With knives! Also, you and your entire family will forever burn in hell for your terrible crimes."
"And he also kicked and punched me and the navigation guys, which was totally unnecessary, y'know? For no reason at all."
Yeah. He was an ev...
"And why didn't you like him, uh...captain?"
What?
"You were the most enthusiast about throwing him on space. I think the words you used were 'Totally necessary.'"
He uh...hurt my feelings.
"Oh. You too captain? Did he call you evil too?"
Uh...no...he actually...refused to gave me a raise.
"But it was our first day in the ship, he couldn't give you a raise."
Yeah...there's that, but...my mother was really, really sick, and needed more money for...her.
"Oh captain! You're such a kind, compassionate man!"
Yes, my effeminate friend. But I would prefer you to not hug me.
"Uh...sorry."
Okay...Uh...Spook. Tell the good men at Mars about your racial background.
"I have come from the distant planet Jagakalunda III. My father was horny fifteen years old tourist, and my mother one of the natives, a Khaki. Therefore I have this uncanny combination of human emotions and the Khaki intellect that make me special."
In the not retarded meaning of the word, don't worry guys. Though sometimes I wonder...Spook, why do you wear these elf ear things?
"Why not?"
It's just that...they clash with...
"Oh, I knew it. That's because I'm black, right?"
You're not black Spook. You're rather...some strange shade of purple.
"Just because I have a darker skin I can't use those stupid elf ear things? Just because they're this sick pink colour?"
Hey, at least we have a...darker colour man in our ship. You know how rare it is?
"Whatever man."
Okay...see, we here at Hyperprice give special chances to the less fortunate members of our society. Spook, can you tell the guys at home about our engines and weaponry?
"Our engines are mark III warpon based technology, and run on the warponic potential of teknobabil crystals, according to the third postulate of Einstein-Jungh but below the limitations of the law of extra-dimensionable circumventing triangles. Our "jazer guns" works pretty much like laser, except it also shoots a gas that makes the laser visible until it hits the target, and also makes nifty laser sounds when shot."
I though lasers didn't make sound.
"They don't. That's why we scrapped our laser guns to begin with."
Well. I hope that was both informative and sad, because as you can see. We always need more money to ensure that our ship works in tip-top shape, and that we can keep up with the technological jumps of our century. So call 0900 - CENTRAL COMMAND, and send in as much money as you can...
Now, to put this thing back into place. Heheh. I hope I get at least three thousand starbucks, I have things that I can do with that...oh...it's not off yet...Frickinhell.
Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: FHRISDCKEWIANEHEOJFLL-1237564[]
First, I won't ever do a donation campaign again, assholes. You didn't have to give me a salary cut, really, the reprimand would suffice, so what you say we leave this thing behind us and start over? I'll be waiting for an answer. Other thing, we get tips when we do jobs for you guys, so anything you need us for, we'll do it. Really, anything. No matter how easy it looks
"Captain, there seems to be a slight problem with our finances."
Yeah, I know Spook, we have none.
"No, I mean...the budget seems to be..."
Oh, do you mind? I'm trying to do a log. And I'm sure the fellas in mission control don't care about our budget.
"Extremely unbalanced. You see, there's money for this...jaccuzi."
Hey, I thought you guys would like one of those. For parties, you know?
"Yes...but, apparently, the money to be used to effectuate the payment of our salaries is nonexistent. Except yours, that is, and it seems to be...somewhat inflated."
Oh...this must be a typing error, I'll have the guys in finance typing it again, for now, I think we should keep it inside my drawer, for protection. There. Problem solved. As you can see, being a captain is not an easy task, but I do it with a smile, solving all problems that arise on the ship.
"Captain, please be in the bridge, we are being helloed."
Oh, what NOW? I'm getting tired of having to do everything around here.
Well, that was slightly uncomfortable. But I'm sure your guys will want to hear it, so...
When I got to the bridge, I saw this ugly guy's face on the screen. He had two eyes, one nose, a mouth, hair and two ears. I would've mistaken him for a human, if it was not for him having a chin that was too big to be physically possible, being glistening of sweat and be wearing little to no clothes.
I was, like, "Hello there" and he was like "I ahm Konan, the borborian, you pony human! The grahtest bounty huntah in the univahrse!" no, I'm not pretty sure if he said pony human, his accent was too insane. He told me to put my shields down since he wanted to speak with me, and I was like "Yeah, right."
Then I did the usual captain-y things, like shooting jazers and plasma and all that...sorry, the warpon interplanetary communicator is ringing...well, at least, you told me to be "detailed and objective" before I finished the log. I didn't know you could listen to it before I was finished, by the way. Man, not only I have to stand those guys, but I have to put up with your stupid protocols, I'm starting to really want a raise.
After I got to the bridge, and asked about the current...situation, I was shown a face on the main screen, it was the face of a humanoid alien, that had many of the...characteres of a human, except his...unusually large chin. I greeted the stranger, and he answered me-I won't be doing the accent anymore, by the way, imagine it yourself-with something along the lines of:
"I am Konan, the Borborian, puny humans! I am the greatest bounty hunter in the universe. I was hired to bring a human named Kwik to the distant planet of Courtroomius V, where he is awaited for a judicial process."
Feeling apprehended, I changed some words with Spook, discussing the nature of this alien threat. He told me that Borbor was known for being a planet populated by half-naked humanoids that sweat profusely and have the compulsion to commit extreme acts of unnecessary violence. Borborians are mostly human, except they have more resilience and physical strength than even the most physically capable human. Whatever that means.
Our conversation was cut short by our alien friend being diplomatic.
"Konan, the Borborian recommends you to shut down your shields, so that he may spare you of unbearable pain!"
This pissed me off a little bit, so I answered with a "Konan, the Borborian should shut up and let the grown ups, mentally speaking, talk," of course, since this was an event of interspecies communication, for which I was perfectly trained at the university, that was said with extreme respect, also, I don't think he quite got it, since he said:
"Konan, the Borborian fears no one, he shall obliterate your puny ship with his excessively destructive armament!"
I, of course, tried to talk him out of it, like they told me at school, but only for three seconds or so, before I was too pissed off to care and ordered his ship blown up into next stardate. My big ship and his small ship flew through space at abnormal speeds, shooting rays of varied colours into each other. We were winning, of course, things were going well.
Things started going not so well after he shot bola rays at us, that wrecked our retransmogrifiers and left us in a vulnerable position. I used my captain-y skills to calm my scared crew with sarcastic comments about how a excessively armed two meters tall alien on steroids was no match to our specially trained redshirt team of philosophy and phys. ed. majors.
After he quickly reached the bridge, massacring all redshirt opposition on his way, I started to feel a little apprehended again.
"Konan, the Borborian will warn you one last time before unleashing his painful powers of needless violence!" he said.
I stood silent, and crossed my arms. Konan's five year old mind seemed confused at this, and he seemed to think for some seconds before asking me what the hell I was doing. "I'm waiting you to warn me one last time. You said you would," I answered.
The loony seemed a bit too offended by that, so he screamed and ran on my direction with a Kalunium axe. In order to protect my crew I feie...fegne...I pretended fear and let him capture me and bring him into his ship. There I valiantly resisted varied methods of torture that he employded to make me spill the secrets of the federation.
Meanwhile, in the ship, my loyal crew was making plans to rescue me from my grin predictament, also, they really need a spare power retransmogrifier to make the ship work again after being affected by bola ray. Don't ask me what happened to our stock of spare retransmogrifiers. After the bad cake from the departure day, and the subsequent lack of toilet rolls, you should be glad we still have teknobabil crystals.
They teleported into Konan's room, and while Spook distracted him by playing a game of riddles-the first one being "If a tree falls in the forest and no one's nearby, does it make sound?"-they went to take retransmogrifiers. They stole all of Konan's retransmogrifiers and went back to Konan's room to go back. Seconds after they teleported away to our ship, they came back, since they forgot to rescue me. Luckily, Bawnes reminded them.
After we were all safe in Hyperprice again, I saw Konan's face on the screen. It was one of realization.
"Konan, the Borborian knows! If a tree makes noise when someone is nearby, then the tree will make noise when someone is not nearby! Konan, the Borborian is the greatest riddle solver in the universe! Now Konan shall go to Courtroomius! ...Why Konan's ship not going? Puny humans, is that Konan's retransmogrifiers?"
I stood there smirking at him, with my arms crossed. Victoriously. Some time passed like this.
"So?" he asked.
I said that yes, it was, sheesh. His face became filled with pure anger. After some seconds he surely spent in trying to think about something to say, he decided for:
"Konan, the Borborian will be back! With bigger guns!"
I continued standing there, smirking. After ten minutes or so I asked if it was safe to stop that, or if he could hello us again. They said it was OK, so I fell back on my captain chair. Being me can be hard some times.
Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: Teacup/delta-1234 Teabag/alpha-4321[]
After getting some new redshir...security officers in Alpha Centauri VI-Look, it's not such a derogatory term, you know? I could get by without the salary cut, frickinhell-we proceeded to accomplice the mission gave to us by the Federation of Ex-Colonies of Earth.
After delivering the cargo of ingredients and living cows to the MacDonald's on Asteroid H-6543 on the fringe of the Gargellos system, near the tip of the Cygnus arm, we are coming back to Federation territory. We expect that our reward will be good enough to pay for the extensive cleaning proceeded needed in the cargo bay.
"Energy levels low, switching to emergency power."
What the hell happened now? *click* What the hell happened now!?
"Captain, our teknobabil crystal was depleted."
What? But we just bought another one at that seedy asteroid!
"Apparently it was actually a low energy crystal painted pink."
Goddamit! Set course to the nearest refuelling station!
"Captain, the nearest refuelling station is 3.8 years-light from here, it would deplete our reserves."
Alright, then you know what we must do.
"Are you sure...captain?"
Yeah, unfortunately.
"God save us all."
Bitchass! That Wal Mart store wasn't nearly as bad as usual. We only had to fight some lunatics, survive long hours in a line, not be trampled by the wild crowd and resist the compulsion to taste strange coloured liquids on the floor. But I bet you guys want details, so...
As you know, in the great monopoly race, the Wal Mart chain of megamarkets bought most of all commerce-related companies and stores, becoming the only source of...well, everything in at least three fourths of the galaxy. Since they had a too great variety of products they had to provide, they were forced to buy entire planets and transform them in megamarkets, to supply everywhere.
Now, most of megamarkets are reasonably clean places where your life isn't at stake at every single passing second. Unfortunately, this is more due to severe consumer laws than any amount of sympathy from the Wal Mart corporates, since, like you know, they did experimental brain sugaries that changed the part of their brain responsible for human emotions for the one responsible for business savvy, so that they could get more profit.
The problem, and that's important, not many upper class guys know that, is that on fringe worlds, there are no consumer laws. The corporate-paid governments make sure of that. So every fringe Megamarket is a piece of hell where you have navigate twisting aisles of products that no one would ever want-unless they were suicidal-or that simply tried to eat you.
Then you have to deal with the bands of beggars and homeless that inhabit the never-mopped depths of the place, pass through the lost civilizations of aliens that survive on less than consumable food, above the slimy colony of intelligent fungus that plans on conquering the universe and into the secret grove of slightly useful products, where the things that any sane sentient being would be looking for are.
Then, on the way back, you have to fight the anti-shoplifting deadly traps and a horde or two of trained undead dogs that receive no food besides the ones they can hunt. You wouldn't want to go there. But I had. So, armed with a jazer gun and accompanied by Mr. Spook, Dr. Bawnes and two redsh...I mean, by major Steve and Ensign Larry, I descended into the dark depths of that consumer trap.
After passing near the unhelpful cashiers, too busy making crossword puzzles, chewing gun and smiling for no good reason to help us, we started our quest on the entrance of aisle 1: Power source thingies and mutant man-eating plants. Nah, that was not what was written, but you have to read between the lines. Also, three seconds after we entered, both our securities were eaten by plant-like things that were on the shelves.
Our surviving crew had to think quickly, with the loss of our meatshields, we were painfully vulnerable. I decided that, as captain of the ship, they had the duty to get on the way of any impeding danger that came on my direction. Spook just raised an eyebrow, but Bawnes, the loyal Bawnes, he actually smiled at the prosthetic, and agreed enthasi...endadi...happily. But then he tried to hug me, so I had to shove him off and keep walking.
Then we saw a group of fellow consumers, travelling together, as if it would have any effect on the protection they had from the terrors that inhabited the upper shelves. One of them stepped on a strange yellow puddle on the floor and he fell down in it, being quickly corroded. They panicked and ran in circles for some time before undead raw rabid rabbit ribs jumped from the shelves and started penetrating their skulls in search for tasty brains.
We were a little shocked by this, but at least this gave us a chance of going on while the ribs were busy. Taking care to not step on suspicious liquid, that seemed uncannily tasty, we reached the weapons section of the store.
The weapon section was inhabited by what seemed to be humanoid aliens, only they had urban camo coloured skin. Then I gave a closer look and noticed they were just humans camouflaged. You never know with these uncannedly human looking aliens you see. The problem is that they were all carrying anti-matter cannons and plasma rifles.
"Hey, folks, wanna help us overthrow Wal Mart and take this store to ourselves?" one of them asked me. Since I didn't want to spend anymore time than strictly necessary in here, I said that no. I just wanted some teknobabil crystals. He seemed disappointed, but cheerful, so he told me the directions. I thanked him and went on, but then something warm flew through the air near my left ear and a section of the ground suffered a matter anti-matter cancellation.
"Hey! Who are you? Come here and pay the toll," he said this time, I must add that he never mentioned this toll before, so I assumed that he was a loony. Anyway, we went back, apologized and paid the absurd amount of money they wanted. Then while we were leaving again, another thing flew through the air next to my right ear and destroyed part of the floor, a plasma ray.
"MUST KILL FOR GHEETO!" they said, whoever Gheeto is, "GAMBAGA IS KING!" another one said. I assumed, correctly, it seems, that they were even insaner than they seemed before, and ran. My companies followed me closed, and we went in the direction he pointed before. There was a cavern there, full of the only useful products in the entire store. We took some teknobabil crystals and heard a rumbling. Somehow we had activated a mechanic that made a big boulder fall from the ceiling and start rolling after us.
I ran for my life and I think the others too, since they still are living, and went all the way back trough the twisting aisles, until the puddle of suspicious yellow liquid, where the boulder was quickly corroded. Laughing, we strolled back to the cashiers, our quest nearing an end. Unfortunately, we still had to stand seven hours on the line, not because there were many people, mind you, since only a few survive those trials, but because the cashiers were too lazy.
After our orderly, we made the ship work again, and are on our way to to Mars. By the way, I know you monitor every ship and knew we were without fuel, so thanks for your help.
Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: 1234567-8765432[]
Today is my brithday, and to commemorate such a greatful date, I used part of the ship's budget to hire Hullanian strippers and Kelonian chefs, so that the crew could forget our perilous life for some time. Also...are the stars feeling more distant?
"My God! Sartre was right!"
Do you mind, I'm trying to do my duties before I can relax in the party. Its enough having space be blindly white
"Sorry boss. I was just discussing the importance of Sartre's existentialist thought in today's society with my painfully Nietzschean friend."
Dammed redshirts. Well, do that away from the log machine. Mission control doesn't care about your inane gossiping. Now, as I was saying, we travelled to Hulla I, the paradisical tropical planet known for its beautiful women with the weird ability of change the size of their boo...breasts at will. When we reached the...is it just me or did I not notice space turning white? Whoa...did it go gray or did it just go like that? Damn, I feel weird inside...and out.
"Then I told Fritz, 'What about National Socialism?'"
Uh...what the hell happened?
"Well, you appeared here out of thin air. Now, as I was saying, Fritz asked, 'But we are neither national nor socialists! In fact, we hate socialists.' and I was like 'Duh. People like nationalism, and everyone wannna be socialist these days, so we'll get more people for the party.' then I asked the barkeeper if he liked nationalism, and he said 'Yesh.' and I asked about socialism and he even smiled when he said yesh again. You had to see his face, it was, like, the funniest face ever."
Who the hell are you guys?
"Wait, wait, wait. They're thinking about me again. Merde, it's not of those naked chicks. Well, I'm Napoleon, this is Hitler."
Hitler? Oh, I heard about you!
"Yeah, I know, everyone does. Too bad no one knows who you are, eh, Nap?"
"Shut up...Hit. Shan't we talk to our new friend?"
"I don't think the word shan't has the meaning you're using Nap."
"Yeah, I know, but since I came down here I feel like saying Shan't a lot."
"Oh, I know what you mean, but we must resist temptation."
Yeah, you guys are you right. I didn't even know the word shan't existed until now, but I love saying it...wait, where the hell is here?
"Oh, didn't you know? It looks like a drawing room furnished with second empire furniture, but it is actually Hell."
"They chose a pretty dumb theme for this place if you ask me."
"Yeah. Almost as dumb as giving smart scientists to your enemies."
"Hey! How would I know that that jew guy was going to invent that A-bomb thingy? I even had some experiments with A-bombs in Germany before them, you know. If I knew he would invent it I wouldn't start killing the jews until he did."
"Hah. Yeah right, me, I was..."
"Wait, wait. People thinking about me...in a gay sauna again! I think I was pretty clear when I said I don't like gay people you dammed neonazis! You should listen to what I say, since that's, like, the whole point of you being you."
"Finished? As I was trying to say, I didn't rely on nifty 'submarines' and 'V2 rockets'..."
"Did I mention that I had the idea to invent the V2 rocket?"
"Yeah, like, a million times."
"I was talking to him. I told that guy 'Yo, I want something that demonstrates my manliness through phallic symbolism, and also that looks like a cigar because I'm very sofristitated and rich, and it also has to, like, fly and go BOOOM when it hits my enemies.' and he made exactly what I wanted."
"'Oh, I'm Hitler, look at me, my scientists invent nifty stuff, aren't I special?' I didn't have those futurist things when I totally owned Austria and Prussia, your 'Fatherland', I used only my enviable smarts and my manliness. I even have a picture demonstrating my incomparable manliness, on a horse."
"Only the painter made a mistake and accidentally made you three times taller than your true self."
"I'm tall where it counts, bitch!"
"Oh yeah? Your ball-less French friends surrendered like, way before the war was over. To me! Thanks to my Blitzkrieg that I invented with my enviadle smarts. I invented what they call 'mobile warfare'"
"You didn't invent Blitzkrieg."
"Okay, my general guys."
"Your generals also didn't, I think it was a guy way before you were dictator."
"Whatever, it was a German, so it's thanks to me, like Beethoven."
This is very entertaining, but how the hell do I get out of here?
"Do you think we would be here if we knew how? I want to see those hippie French chicks close up and personal."
"And I want to dictate in Germany again now that it got all rich and good-looking."
"But nooo. I'm forced to stay here..."
"And talk to this imbecile."
"Forever and ever.
Wow, like, this is all very interesting, but I didn't die yet, so I think there was a mistake.
"Maybe someone shot you in the back."
"Or poisoned you."
"Or stabbed your skull with piercing tongues."
...
"What? I've seen it happen."
No. I'm pretty sure I'm not dead. I was with my back to the wall and didn't drink anything yet.
"Well, he has a point, Nap."
"What you mean?"
"The Valet didn't bring him."
"Also, he wears stupid silver-coloured attire."
"Yeah."
"Well, if it was an accident, they should send you back soon."
Yeah, I guess you're right. So...why are you guys here?
"I'm the greatest dictator of all times."
"No, I am the greatest dictator of all times. Did you see how many jews I killed?"
"You and your 'I killed jews' arguments. If you count the Native Americans that were killed on America for the French colonies, the negroes killed in Africa for the slavery and colonies and the fellas that died during the Napoleonic wars, I think I killed more people than you."
"Hey! You can't count the people that died in the war, if I counted the people that died in World War II, then it would be, like, billions!"
"World War II?"
"Yeah, my war!"
"Your...oh yes! I forgot they didn't name your war after you. Sorry."
"Grr!"
"Also, I only lost my war because I had to fight those godammed Russians."
"Hah. Russians? That's all it takes to defeat you?"
"What you're talking about? The Russians screwed you too. 'Sides, at least I didn't lose for Americans."
"Aw, come on! France lost some colonies to the Canadians! To the Canadians for goodness sake! You don't get a high HDI like that by being good in wars, trust me, I know."
Look, can you guys shut up?
"Hitler! You are complete imitation of me!"
"I so am not!"
"Oh yeah? You started poor, started dictating in your country, found some stupid scapegoat for your country's problems, only not as masterfully as I did to the Jacobins, started going military, did some wars in Europe, attacked Russia in winter and then got ultimately defeated by a group of folks calling themselves 'allies'. If I was alive, I'd have sued you for plagiarism!"
"Well, maybe I'm a little..."
Stop talking! Please! Let me out! Let me out! I want to live a life again! GAKAMBA IS KING! Konan, the Borborian! Puny Humans!
"What's he blabbing about?"
"I think he's going crazy."
"Sissy."
Captain! CAptain! Cap...cap...cap...tain taintaintaintai! My my mymyGOD! Sartre was right!Rightrightright!
"Captain, are you okay?"
I'm back?
"We were worried about you when that rift in space-time continuum passed right through ya. Luckily you didn't go somewhere else."
"Though that is against Jeoffrey's model of universal quantification."
I...I was somewhere. Though by some crazy time-space-y logic, I'm back at the same time, same place.
"Well, it makes sense. It's time and space we're talking about after all. Where were you?"
I was in...hell.
"Wait, wasn't hell an abstract concept, instead of an objective reality?"
"Well, since he entered a rift, he may have went to another dimension, or another reality, or another universe, so I doubt anything is impossible. How was hell, by the way?"
You won't believe this, but it was a drawing room furnished with second empire furniture.
"Drawing room?"
"Second empire?"
"Furniture?"
Don't ask me. There I met Napoleon and Hitler.
"Hitler? Wasn't that the guy that invented laser guns?"
I thought so, but he was blabbing something about killing jews, so I guess it was another guy.
"Or maybe that was what he wanted you to think."
I don't care.
"How did you get out of there?"
Apparently it was all some kind of cosmical effort to make me learn something.
"Yeah? What?"
I dunno. I started blabbing whatever came to my head to make the other guys shut up. I guess I said something brainy. Something about Satra, I think.
"Satra?"
"Isn't that a brand of whisky?"
"Maybe your lesson was to drink less whisky."
Maybe my lesson was to drink more whisky, so why don't you bring me a glass? ...Hey! Come back here and get me glass! ...frickinhell.