Badass Space Dragon - Duck's Pond

Thank g-d this one isn’t on the box:

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Continuing the discussion from Radio Shack’s happier days, when it sold $2495 cellphones:

Where I come from, that’s considered a performance bonus.

 

In other news, my smoke is wearing off, and I am pining again. What a woman, what material!

 


[La seule chose entre vous et une mort certaine est cette cire.]

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…and the ship’s hulll

buuurp

ship’s hulll := space-wax.

Why would I want some sort of static, brittle material for something so hexagonadelic as Those Who Deem Inappropriate the Singing of Disney Songs in the Office Bathroom Are Not Worthy of Acknowledgement?!?!??!

 


[Six partialité comme une idée maîtresse]

I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

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You always say that, Mackey. You always say, “I got a bad feeling about this drop.”

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Missions are Posted

Implants buzz, communicators ping, and screens flicker to life. A Space Lobster in tech glasses stares like a dummy. The Unizone Corporation has posted new missions. Time to sober up and get to work.

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[quote=“patrace, post:112, topic:51994”]
Time to sober up and get to work.[/quote]

One ain’t got nothing to do with the other.

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I’ve seen your docking “ma·neu·vers” and would have to agree.

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Buddy, I keeps telling you, just because the back end of my craft is adjusting itself to fit into the dock doesn’t mean I’m making a pass at you.

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"hey Mamma, You forget this rubber mallot at Duck’s Pond other night. Browf know Mamma use it to ‘un-adjust’ your craft panelling after successful dock. :smile: "

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  _______  _           
 |__   __|| |          
    | |   | |__    ___ 
    | |   | '_ \  / _ \
    | |   | | | ||  __/
    |_|   |_| |_| \___|
  _             _           _               _    _  _  _               _     
 | |           | |         | |             | |  | |(_)| |             ( )    
 | |      ___  | |__   ___ | |_  ___  _ __ | |__| | _ | | __ ___  _ __|/ ___ 
 | |     / _ \ | '_ \ / __|| __|/ _ \| '__||  __  || || |/ // _ \| '__| / __|
 | |____| (_) || |_) |\__ \| |_|  __/| |   | |  | || ||   <|  __/| |    \__ \
 |______|\___/ |_.__/ |___/ \__|\___||_|   |_|  |_||_||_|\_\\___||_|    |___/
   _____       _     _       
  / ____|     (_)   | |      
 | |  __ _   _ _  __| | ___  
 | | |_ | | | | |/ _` |/ _ \ 
 | |__| | |_| | | (_| |  __/ 
  \_____|\__,_|_|\__,_|\___| 
    _______      _______ _             _____       _                  
   |__   __|    |__   __| |           / ____|     | |                 
      | | ___      | |  | |__   ___  | |  __  __ _| | __ ___  ___   _ 
      | |/ _ \     | |  | '_ \ / _ \ | | |_ |/ _` | |/ _` \ \/ / | | |
      | | (_) |    | |  | | | |  __/ | |__| | (_| | | (_| |>  <| |_| |
      |_|\___/     |_|  |_| |_|\___|  \_____|\__,_|_|\__,_/_/\_\\__, |
                                                                 __/ |
                                                                |___/ 

      ____   __   __ _  _ ____    ____   __  __  __   
     (    \ /  \ (  ( \(/(_  _)  (  _ \ /  \(  )(  )  
      ) D ((  O )/    /    )(     ) _ ((  O ))( / (_/\
     (____/ \__/ \_)__)   (__)   (____/ \__/(__)\____/

Entry 392H73A4: Groundling Culture: Names

Little is known among the Lobsteroid Academic Community of the cultural rituals of Groundlings. One of the most perplexing and vexing aspects of Grounding culture is their naming conventions. 

Consider, for example, the popular folk hero from the Second Charbydicall Entanglement, Sir. Mamma "Luckybeard" Aiuto. While the origins of his nickname can easily be surmised, even by lesser-legged species, the root of his given name is obscured to Lobsterstorians. The popular explanation is that "Mamma" is itself a nickname, given to him by those fortunate enough to be within earshot during his docking maneuvers. LoogleTranslate roughly translates the full phrase he would exclaim while docking to be, "To copulate with one that has already hatched young."
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Yeah, how do you think I got those pants on you?

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“ah, that explain! me wonder why hoofs hurt as well as head…”

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That’s good to hear. Mostly because the difficult parts of fitting were in the crotch area.

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"oh… wince "

"… so Browf not have as good luck with moose ladies as Browf want believe … "

“Browf ‘struck out’ more than usual… Hah!”

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So at least thirty captains have headed out.

Now things will get pretty quiet for a while. Oddlly for a dive, Duck’s tends to be quieter during the weekend than during the week.

Definitely be ready to go on Monday, when the captains return from their missions.

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I’m supposed to be in the Vega system, covering the astrocycle racing, but I heard about this lizard called Nixon in some backwater called Charybdis, figured I’d see what was happening here, so my attorney and I hired a ship.

We were somewhere around Barnard’s Star when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like “I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should fly…” And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge lobsters, all swooping and screeching and diving around the ship, which was going about a hundred light years an hour with the top down to Charybdis. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?”

The sporting editors had also given me 300 StarBits in cash, most of which was already spent on extremely dangerous drugs. The cargo hold of the ship looked like a mobile police narcotics lab. We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw aether and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious drug-collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can.

The only thing that really worried me was the aether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an aether binge. And I knew we’d get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.

How long can we maintain? I wonder. How long before one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely system was the last known home of the Mondo family. Will he make that grim connection…

No point mentioning those lobsters, I thought. The poor bastard will see them soon enough.

The ship suddenly veered out of hyperspace and we came to a sliding halt at the docking bay of the Duck’s Pond. I was hurled against the dashboard. My attorney was slumped over the controls. “What’s wrong?” I yelled. “We can’t stop here. This is lobster country!"

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