Venus Is A Deady Steamy Bog, But A Fortune Could Be Made There
They call me Ray Jr., I'm a retired Astro Truck driver. I've hauled crap across this glorious solar system for about 30 years. It was time to settle down after getting my ass paid in big space bucks! My last final freight delivery was a tanker of some Winnebago Ale to Venus. What I recall on such a normal delivery was the fact that there was something else I was carrying besides the liquor. Something I had to sell to one of the Swamp Barons on Venus. Swamp Baron's are in the job of real estate on the Swamp planet Venus. Every Cajun stupid and Mississippi man want's a piece of that wet mushy land. Hell there's even the Venusian dinosaur business there. Well I had to deliver a frozen dinosaur I found while my daily routine of tossing M80s all over a rest stop for fun on Earth hoping to blow up a squirrel or other little Earth pest. It was a surprise to me when a big ice cube of a dinosaur just popped right out of the ground like a jumping grasshopper on Mars. I knew there was big money in something like this if one of those Swamp Baron's could thaw this prehistoric son of a bitch to breed with a Venusian dinosaur. So I called up this guy they call Big Bayou Bill, he has the biggest Dinosaur zoo on the planet. I thought he would love to have this frozen giant lizard and indeed he would. When I arrived to the zoo after dropping off some booze to the soggy locals. Big Bayou Bill appeared to be quite the loud sort as he approached my rig while screaming like a jack ass the whole way in excitement. He said "Boy all get you a big reward if you hand over that big frozen green bastard, big bucks, big space bucks!" I had a grin the size of the Big Mountain Dew. I said "How much are we talking here Bill?" He waved his arms in the air and yelled, "They call me Big Bayou Bill God dammit! All get you paid in some Howdy Doddies boy!" Howdy Doddies are Galactic Bank notes that have a value of 500 Grand. I felt that spark and sensation sweeping the nation, That was a lot of joy paper! Handing over the dinosaur I knew it was to be put to good use in this lunatic's monstrosity zoo. Then again this man could be putting together a prehistoric lizard army to take over Venus. But who cares, I got so much liquor money and more to spare for the rest of this mortal life of mine. Not to say I still miss the stranger hauls like that again and again.
Crater Wrecked My Truck, Now It's Gonna Die!
The Moon is a pretty rural place, maybe a couple little cities here and there but mostly little towns littered with trailer parks and liquor stores. Moohoof I would reckon is the capital of the Moon, the place moon billies would say is the 2nd most high falutin place on the face of the Moon..besides New Branson. There's this bar called "The Gin Rocket" in Moohoof with a retired LunarSplash Rocket used in making some of the Moon's craters into reservoirs of water. This rocket is now filled completely with gin now. I go to this little watering spot every Friday night to get my buzz. When it was time to go I got into my Grand pappy's pick-em up truck to head home. Not knowing I was more then tipsy I ran my pick-em up off into a damn crater. I crawled right out of the wreckage mighty pissed. I knew then he was going to kill me for sure and that was just the beginning of my list of problems now. I forgot to pick up the damn milk, the reason I left the house in the first place. The nearest convenience store was on the other side of Cow Pie Crater the largest crater in town. Knowing that's the crater I landed my ass in I had to high tail it right over there fast. The towny folks in Moohoof have been spreading rumors that a cave near the bottom of the crater leads to a secret Glark base. The Glark are a space alien race of big tall and skinny gray bastards with a fetish of fucking shit up for Humans. Taking our live stock, rearranging junk just to mess with us, and of course the unthinkable. They've been the menace in this solar system ever since we first build the Space Highways out as far as Pluto. I wasn't going to let those sons of bitches lay a single tentacle hand on me. I hopped and hustled and climbed right out of the crater to the CelestialFridge Convenience store. Things started to look better now that I saw there was a discount on the milk. Not sure why but I got it anyway, and then I got myself some jerky and lotto tickets. Another big issue would probably start settling in now that I realize I don't have a ride home. It was at least 5 miles to the trailer, then I started to scratch away at the tickets to find myself having 500 Space Bucks! Good thing there was a used truck store near by because I could get something really shitty and fast to get one trip out of it to home to my lovely bitching wife asking me where I've been and why I've come home at 3 A.M. But she can just shut the hell up because a Saturn ring race is on and that crater wrecked my truck and now it's gonna die!
Well after such a day of tribulation with that damn truck and having to deal with that needy wife of mine I hit the bed for a much need sleep to get all this mess off my mind. Waking up the next day to find that no good lady out of the bed and out of the house. Looking around the house I see she took everything. Maybe more happened the night before then I realize. Looking back to it I didn't really think that I went straight to the hay stack. There was negative tension around, I think it was the pent up frustration from work. I wouldn't of thought I hit that women, I wasn't that ruthless when it came down to it. Doing the kind of mundane work at the shop was getting me the blues. I'm only 30 yet I see my life slipping away with no more of those times out having fun with the pals. We didn't have any children, wasn't really planning to yet. As strange as that is in this hick town of ours. Sammy wasn't really the kind of lady I married those years ago. Seems to happen a lot around here. Not knowing what kind of dumb ass nonsense I was getting myself into. I wasn't asking for this, but it seemed that she left me and I didn't care to much. We never truly did get along. It was going to happen but her then me. I felt that freedom slipping in like all those years ago when I got out of that school. I told that principle to go suck a cock. School wasn't for me, it wasn't really for a lot of people. Many folks made it just fine without it in this town. My stupid ass was to free to care about that education. I stood in a empty house on the edge of town. I was hanged over a bit off sunshine booze. I trampled on over to the shit truck that somehow by the divine powers of Saint Elvis made it home. I turned the keys and banged it around a bit tell it started to run...or what seemed like running. I was sitting on a scratched to hell driver seat that had all sorts of ungodly stains on it. I then realize it was a working day. I was to head on over to that Grocery Goose on Dale Earnhardt Pkwy. Starting to pull out of the driveway my brain started to put together a spontaneous drive to be free once more. I had the urge to take this piece of shit truck as far as possible in some direction. Just as long as it wasn't in the direction of that fucking grocery store to work at some stupid cashier job with the no future. Fuck that I yelled while I put my foot down on the pedal harder gripping the wheel. I had to of took off as fast as Wendel Scott but in a crappy truck run on the power of freedom. Freedom with no thought of what will happen next. I didn't care one bit, anything was better then going to that place to work for some scumbag. I had 100 space bucks left from that lotto ticket, a flask of the good whiskey you get back at that big blue Earth. Had a bag of bluegrass, nice and potent for some time further down the road for a psychedelic break and my trusty blue harmonica. Had some more junk I threw in the back I found back in the house which she over looked. I didn't bother to open the box it was all in. Probably save the expectation out of boredom. For someone who had no plan I was already setting myself up with things that might help me later. I just hope wherever this lunar highway takes me is as unexpected as everything else. I rolled down the window and the air was blowing out, I cried as loud as I could so even space could carry my message. "My name is Randal Friggs and I'm going to rock the shit out of this Moon!".
Heading out quite far from Moohoof now I find myself in a highway with few little shacks and barns passing by. This truck is on it's last leg and I reckon I would have to find another source of transportation soon. Smoke was already trying to escape into the vacuum of space. I could hear this garbage can screaming and screeching in a agony. It was about time to leave this truck with mercy and kill it. I wasn't even sure what I would do for another way forward. The nearest town was far I was already getting low on oxygen cans. The most important thing on this forsaken world, you shouldn't leave your home without a good amount. I was starting to get a shacking feeling that I needed to find a solution to this problem soon or probably have to deal with some more unwanted problems. All I could see before me was a few shacks, a cow farm, and a few bill boards overlooking some big craters. There was a ad of America's racing hero Thunder Truck. I wouldn't mind having that speed famous rocket truck of his right now. Wouldn't mind having a few races on Saturn's rings right about now. Man even the ring track on Uranus would be fine. I had to get back to the dire reality and find a way to get some more air and a new set of wheels. I pulled into a farm with some cows eying me from afar. Looked hungry enough to ponder the thought of chewing me to bits. This place didn't have enough grass to conquer the hunger of these beasts. It seemed like no one was home he must of gone to town. I decided to help myself in like any person would of probably done in this situation. Busting myself into this place wasn't to hard of a problem but once I let myself in I find a kid occupied watching some mumbo jumbo on a television set. He was oblivious to the fact that I just barged right into his home. I thought I would sneak around the living room to find me some air and see if the farmer had any set of wheels to spare. But all was but on halt when I stepped on a toy donkey that yelled out a sound of a jack ass. It wasn't a donkey's yell but was the voice of a familiar hated son of a bitch called Brink Roland. He is a guy that was famous for almost bringing back the cursed prohibition. If we didn't lynch this jerk we would probably be sipping only root beer. Those type of people are the reason the commies are still putting up a fight and getting some holdings on Venus and among other places. But that kid wouldn't know if some ruskies just storm the place he was still unaware of noise around him. I shook my head and proceeded out to the back of the house to find a shelf of air cans. While having a bit of joy moment I heard the front door opening. Never realizing how loud it was, I peaked back out into the living room were the kid was still zoned out. There stood I assumed the father looking at him with disgust. He started to speak in a hollering voice, "Have you even looked outside boy? There's a strange truck just parked out there, your lucky whoever is in here didn't do away with you." It was at that moment I had to find my way out. He was starting look around with something in his hand that looked like a shovel. I looked out a window from the storage room I was in to see his truck was in much better shape as mine. If I was to just trade him for mine I don't think he would ever be able to keep up on trying to catch me. I had to wait for him to move out of the living room to somewhere else. It didn't take much to draw his attention to some place else. I threw a nail I found across the house to what appeared to be a bathroom. I made a dash for the door when in a surprising twist the kid looked behind him to find me and started to recite something that seemed to of been straight from whatever he was watching. He said "Stop right there Glark scum! You're under arrest under the authority of the coolest mutant space highway cop Jogo!". I then proceeded to say, "That's nice kid now shut up and watch TV some more." I ran right outside to the farmers truck and got it running easy and headed right out onto the road straight west. With a new truck and plenty of air things were starting to look up. I saw the sign for the nearest town, it was Dirtsville. That is were I will go next.
The Story Of Big Tex, Cowboy Warlord Of Mars
Mars is a barren dusty place and cold as shit, not sure why people are so crazed about trying to search for the American dream there. Is it the Vegas style cities that dot the edges of the big Valles Marineris Canyon? Or maybe it's the gold rush...is there even gold on Mars? I think it's because of the gay community in Sam Fransisko, this galaxy is to backwards that Mars has to be the haven for the gays. They can sure make this frigid desert happy. I would like to turn the attention to this other part of Mars that is the weirdest thing you'd ever see. Back in the pioneering times of settling Mars, there was a little war in southern Mars. A collection of settlements where join together by this man they called "Big Tex". Big Tex was a eccentric type, he believed he was a cowboy god emperor sent to conquer Mars into a Wild West Empire. Everyone thought he was batshit crazy at first, thought he lost a few marbles along the way. But this Big Tex was as charismatic of a leader as he was loony. He proclaimed himself Emperor Big Tex, first President of the Desert Empire. He was a bit of a cowboy diplomacy warlord of course, he conquered a great deal of land in southern Mars. From his hometown he built a new city called Cactus City. Every building was wild west, every person was to wear wild west themed clothing, every god damn person was to talk in a generic wild west voice. These people where brainwashed into believing Big Tex was their god and every four years he was elected again in a fake election. Kind of tyrannic paradise for the weirdos. The people loved their dear Governor as they called him that they built a ginormous cactus monument in his honor. This sucker was huge, probably the tallest thing on Mars besides that big ass volcano called Olympus
everyone fears will burst...which is lunacy. Big Tex didn't know he was mortal because he was that crazy and stupid but also a brilliant mad man. One night during the empire wide gorging holiday were every citizen was to stuff their face tell they threw up, a super Thanksgiving as they would call it. The dear Governor choked on some ribs and died with his face in a giant pile of meats of beasts of many sizes. One of the Governor's attendance actually came into the dinner room to find that he actually carved something in the table before he died. It said, "This town is big enough for only me!"
Piss Off!
Martians Are The Least Of Your Problem On Mars
John Reed is my name, I got to say martians like to gamble, they worship the slots above their own gods now. Ever since we humans came and settled this new world all they talk about is how much they love those Las Vegas clones we feel the need to build. These cities are filled with recreations of monuments and buildings, a Elvis on every corner, and every bizarro thing you could conjure up and some things you couldn't even imagine even higher then a comet on Jupiter gas fumes. I make a living on this planet picking spots and building new gambling towns. It's a well paying job, but also a burden having to be deal with the crazy cowboys firing off 19th century revolvers and hogtying people on the streets like savages drunk on Methane Whiskey from Titan. I found this great spot, pretty flat, a few farm houses here and there but mostly abandoned. Probably killed off by some crazed spur wearing bastard. Surveying this place was easy, I had the whole idea already in my head. So a few months later this place was already up in running. The first gambling house was made and some gas stations. A pretty nice ice cream shop with a mutant of a ice cream bowl statue on top of the building. Everything seemed to go well I was inside the gambling house just to see if things were going hunky dory. Then this guy came through the door with a package. I mumbled to myself "Oh Shit". The stranger glared at me and tossed the package and ran out the door yelling "Yeehaw!" I knew this wasn't good, lord knows what's probably in that package. I had to look though, I was starting to shake a little. When some strange guy with a cowboy hat just barges into a building giving you a dead glare before tossing a strange package. You know things are going to get a lot worst. I slowly opened the package until it was completely visible what was inside. "For fuck sakes" I said frustrated, it wasn't a bomb, it wasn't even anything remotely deadly. It was a box filled with little action figures of John Wayne and Clint Eastwood. If I wasn't already confused I looked backup to see the guy again at the door way whispering "Obey the cactus" he stared at me and in a few seconds of dead silence he yelled "Sweet Molasses!" and he ran off really fast into the dark. Then a tornado appeared ready to destroy the town. Were did this bastard come from? Was this the insane magic of that disturbed cow boy? I looked out the door to see it was drawing near destroying the ice cream shop and the fake bowl of ice cream was hurled towards some trailers. It was getting closer and louder, then I saw my crazy friend climbing a water tower in the tornado's path. He pulled out a big rope and twirled and swing it around and I could faintly hear him say something about Del Taco something he said was "Try the Buck & Under menu and get a taco or burrito for 50 cents!" I heed his crazy words and walked on over to Del Taco to have myself a Tacos Friday dinner! Good thing I got to eat 7 before the restaurant was carried away into space by that damn tornado!
The Big Bad Storm Planet
Gusty is a planet storm torn from all sorts of global climate changes from the huge amount of car factories, car dealerships and interstates running in all directions. I run a dealership myself, the name is Francis Ruhnny. I like to think of myself as a pretty trust worthy car salesman. Some think I'm insane, probably because I can't seem to draw a conversation or make a coherent commercial on the radio or TV. They just don't understand the kind of random garbage I'd have the displeasure of running into. This planet is going straight to planet Hell if we don't do something about this crazy weather. I got a plan though, I'm planning something big that could change everything in this weirdo place. All it will take is hooking every car battery to a big ass vacuum. Something to suck out all this nasty storm. Then I'm going to use a super fog machine to get all dem clouds back that aren't being a bunch of annoying ruffians. I hope to use all the storm juice into a new kind of martini. They'll call me a hero and make me the CEO at the Rick Petty Motors. That's the best kind of cars to have the honor of having the legendary stock car hero's name imprinted on every vehicle. Well I hope everything works out well, I have to get back to selling a car to some boring surgeon gabbing on about his past marriage with some deaf cop lady. Gusty's a alright place, it just needs a little planetary fix'n is all.
Cosmikukbok Abridge
In the beginning of time and space nothing existed. There was no beer, there was no burgers, there was no football. Just blankness filled the void of the universe as it was. It wasn't long until something appeared, a strong force that creating something out of nothing. For there stood a metallic frame. Bars after bars of metal grew out of the nothing of the void. This force that broke the emptiness was the creator. The creator was a grill master, a master of his craft. The craft being the universe, for his holy name was Cowabunga. His first ever creation was a grill made of pure gold. Then he felt it needed a base to set it on in the blankness of the void. So he created a yard of grass, a fence, and then a house for himself to reside. This is to be called the most holy domain, "The Cosmic Backyard". He was not content enough with his own home. He had cooked and grilled his own meals for himself but felt he needed company on a warm space summer evening. So he made a neighborhood which all the galaxies, all the stars, and all the planets were apart of. He then populated his own neighborhood with folks. People of many type. He gave them suitable worlds to live and do with their own hearts content and being as mighty as he was he began to create a idea of his own. A party, which every being of many types were invited. He sent out a few of his closest neighbors to tell the rest of the neighborhood. These where the messengers, prophets that would take the shape of barn yard animals. A cow named Moohoof, a pig named Squalcron, a chicken named Cluckette, a sheep named Woolidan, a rabbit named Floppoms, a horse named Neighron, and a goat named Chewddy. There divine mission was to spread the invitation to the universe of a coming Bar Be Que party. But one of the prophets was not in favor of such a bodacious event. Cluckette didn't feel the party would be as big of a universal hit as Cowabunga believed. So he went to spread word of the great invitation. But it wasn't a positive one. In a stab in the back he broke every trust of the other prophets and kind of pissed of Cowabunga. The holy grill master did what he never thought he would have to in such a cool universe of his own design. He kicked Cluckette out of the Cosmic Neighborhood. Furious and vengeful Cluckette created his own dimension out of his own anger. One of fire and charcoal, this was to be called "The Other Side of Town". A inferno universe of everything sinful and evil. A place that every being in the Cosmic Neighborhood fears to go to. But some do, it's the sinful powers of the Chicken Devil that makes some people do bad things that wouldn't allow them to come when the party was ready. But the holy messengers do there righteous duties to spread the teachings of the Holy Grill Master. A day will come when the BBQ party will be ready for the universe. For the Holy Grill Master has a recipe he is going to use, called "Galactic Pork". Which will be so good that every mortal being in the neighborhood will then be able to go to a paradise even more cool then the Cosmic Neighborhood. A domain only exclusive to the Grill Master and the holy messengers. So I say to you brother, take a slice of Galactic Pork.
Jurassic Motor Trip
Truck Stop Vesta
I would of thought the whole galaxy was here, at this truck stop on Vesta. The asteroid belt is a bustling place filled with opportunities incapable of counting. 5 years ago this space truck stop was just a normal stop on the side of the road. It was like any other place out in the wilds of the asteroid country between Mars and Jupiter. I thought so anyway taking the position of owner of Truck Stop Vesta. The past owner just passed away, he was loved by all who were apart of the travel center. From the AstroPlaza to the command office. Could I possible live up to Owner Travis Richroad? I wanted to believe so, I think I could really at least be good. He was responsible for really kick starting the gold rush here. More then that this guy was a saint, he made sure the truckers could get everything they could possible want, even a arcade and drive in movie theater. Truck Stop Vesta was to be on the map as the biggest space truck stop. When I arrived new parts where already under construction. There are so many colorful characters out here, already I ran into the "doctor" Daniel Leverton he was more of a con man that sold bullshit cures to people. Amazingly by coincidence people's issues where gone. I think although his intention is to make a few space bucks out of people's gullibility it actually never backed fired and seemed to worked. He was starting to feel like he was actually helping people and started up his own clinic. The law was needed on such a big truck stop. It was practically it's own town, a highway cop named Jogo who was anywhere from sane thought he was even a alien monster but was clearly human. He would mask himself in strange costumes with a cop uniform on. How he was still out on the road doing police work was something I always questioned. He was a weird and unstable but seemed to keep the peace on and around Vesta. A casino owner named Hubert Frog use to be a hobo that traveled on space trains but found his calling when he won big at a casino in New Reno on Mars. A pastor and grill man named Georgy Johns was everyone's friend he was the man to go to for a meal and a prayer. It was a alright place, but a event that would make this place one of the most important places in the United Space of America. While a mining on the asteroid Vesta was going on. Someone by the name Fred Bathes found a lost holy artifact. A lost relic of Saint Squalcron which was given to him by the lord Cowabunga himself. It was a shiny metallic spatula with strange symbols that looked liked words engraved on the side. This was not translatable by anyone not even Glarks. Many people would come to Vesta on pilgrimage to a holy relic and site where it was found. My responsibility was even more important at the now most famous truck stop in the country. I know though that there will be dangers and problems incoming strong soon. I wasn't sure if I was up to the task at first but after 5 years I know it was the greatest job anyone could have in this galaxy.
Quest Of The Warp Speed Diesel
It all began a week ago in a diner on the edge of rural space. About a bits away from Saturn and Uranus. I was getting my usual breakfast meal the Mars Red Jam Pancakes, which has a bit of sourness and sweetness to it that is just so good. Hearing those doors open to find more truckers enter from the blackness of space outside was always the interesting part of being at a diner. You can hear the conversations of their travels. I overheard a couple talk with some excitement about a strange siting they've seen. Basiclly what they saw was a strange glow from a fellow astro truck carrying beer. It was going so fast. Faster then any truck could go from what they seem to imply. So fast lights of blue and green flash from the sides of the truck. Now these kind of speeds aren't known to exist, only those space alien Glark fools can go warp speed on some kind of fuel. Was this sucker running his rig on some Glark mumbo jumbo? That's what they wanted to know and me as well. I walked up beside them since I'm sure they've noticed me hearing them out. They told me that they sited this happening around Neptune. So I finished up my pancakes and mosey on out to the truck. It was time to set out and find that fast bastard. Because I want to make those hauls faster then the rest. That's the way space trucking goes out here, you gotta fly through space fast and crazy as hell. I finally hunted down this fast son of a bitch to a Denny's on the edge of the solar system out past Pluto. He told me with some caution in his voice that this was Warp Speed Diesel, a special kind of diesel he stole from a weirdo inventor out in the space boondocks beyond the solar system. I had to have my hands on that stuff, I just had to. So I got down to brass tax with him about it and he was open to give me some in return of a favor. If I got him some jerky from the store. I was soon on my way to making head time with all these kind of shipments of mine. I was a real Rick Petty out here, I was zipping across space like it was some highway back on good old blue Earth. That's how I'm better at trucking then you'll ever be. Except that other guy I just haven't seen lately. Probably the government hunting him down for having something they don't. Probably Obama's fault...even after 100 years.
Space Pig
Saint Squalcron
Earth was nothing more then a rural rugged world of cave men whom only knew of making things with stone and sticks. They didn't have Sunday football, they didn't have cook outs, nor did they even know how to play the guitar and harmonica. It was a dark time for the humans who feared everything and where starving because they didn't know how to properly make a good old American dinner. They where missing out on that apple pie. The missionaries of the cosmos were on a mission to spread the good word for the Cosmic Bar Be Que. The Pig Apostle Squalcron had planet Earth and the Sol System in his tracks. His path was shared with the Cow Apostle Moohoof who decided to head to the Moon of Earth. Squalcron landed onto what was a small human settlement which was first constructed not long after the agriculture revolution. It was the perfect timing for the Pig Apostle to be on Earth. Human were just mastering domestication of barn animals and crops. To see the godly pig stand before them was a shock like nothing else. The humans weren't sure what to make of this, seeing as he was standing right next to a pig pen. Squalcron stood just like a human but far from one in appearance. It was at this moment one walked up to the alien to greet him. Squalcron gave out a roaring squeal that shook the very ground. Out of the ground roused a shiny grill, then hot dogs and hamburger patties spawn out of existence. So shocking was all this that some humans shat their pants in excitement. Then they got some new pants of course all was the same they were still awestruck. The smells, the smoke, the rumbling stomachs. Their intentions were all the same, they wanted that meat. Squalcron then spoke a lesson on how to make these meals. Then spoke of who sent him and how they will be able to join him at his party if only they believed in having a good time did as many fun things they could possible do before passing on. It was our duty as humans to make as many fun and entertaining things as possible and to have a good time on this planet and make good with all that the lord Cowabunga has created for us to enjoy. Never steer away from whats right and don't destroy his work so that others can't enjoy. Everyone should be able to camp out in the woods, to ride the waves, and rock to that rock and roll music. Just don't buy into the evil pollution that Cluckette the devil chicken has released since his departure from the Cosmic Neighborhood. Nothing good comes out of it. Squalcron was named a saint. He was to be the Saint of Planet Earth, he looks over Earth today and makes sure everything's alright. Thanks Saint Squalcron, you're a alright hog.
Moon Rap
It was getting late but how could you tell
when you live in space the sun never fell
Tom Hanks and a couple of more are off in the distance
Apollo 13 was here all along ever since
Regolith got caught up in the front door
I wish everyone on the Moon weren't so poor
I have bad reception It's hard to watch TV again
But it's all good because I got a rocket filled with gin
There's a dump called the "Trailer of the Rising Earth"
A real folk legend It's where they go to give birth
I wrecked my pickup truck in a crater
I was drunk but all pay for it later
Glarks From The Planet Kugloria
Space is big...really fucking big, there outta be some kind of space folks out there. Indeed many times some space aliens would travel to Earth like a truck stop to cause some ruckus and mayhem on human country bumpkins. In a pretty close solar system there is a planet called Kugloria which houses a alien race called Glark. These tall skinny fellows are mighty rude and harassing to humans. They just fuck with our shit all the time. If you ever see one of these bastards you know your shit is going to be messed with. But don't allow them to troll you to death with their shenanigans. Because they also like the human butt hole. Give them the chance and you know whats up behind you. As America expands out into the solar system and beyond the Glark menace is ever present. Ever since the contact with the Glarks we've had to deal with them every since unwillingly. It's not uncommon for us to think they are with the commie agenda. The Ruskies are making a come back, they've been sneaking by growing stronger. We're the best and proven it before being the leaders in the solar system. But the USSR are far from weak as was before and all the arrows point to dem damn Glark. Don't trust them bud, they're going to ruin us all if we let them. Yeah... all we need is some Commie-Glark alliance. Holy moly...
Truck Stop Vesta Diner
Kernel Ken And The Blue Corn
In the good old pioneer times of the lunar frontier getting the right price for dirt mostly by acres to put into the regolith surface of the Moon was often pricey when the agricultural boom started. Importing such huge quantities of valuable terrestrial soil was in high demand. It gave truckers a lot to do those days. What made up half the freight to the Moon was that Kansas Gold, that's that Kansas dirt that is. Now to grow even one strain of wheat in that black black lunar air was a miracle that rarely would happen those days. To grow something from Truck Stop Earth on some strange new world was going take some doing. One new comer to the Moon who lived in a little town called Juke Springs knew if there was ever to be a first real Thanksgiving or a 4th of July there had to be some food. They called him Kernel Ken, he had a goal in life to see a field of corn on every country road by his death. Boy oh Danny he would see just that. Now on the Moon there isn't much native vegetation, the only things you're bound to find is Mooshrooms. So would it be just the brightest idea to try breeding a new combination of that Mooshoom and Earth corn? Something that could survive, and have a whole new corny tastes as well. Something quite queer to other corn. Well Kernel Ken did just that and behold in his field right on the edge of town strange new corn started popping and growing right out of the ground! The corn was tall, a light blue hue and shiny. Kernel Ken was the first brave soul to sink his hungry watering mouth around the cob. Blue Corn as it is now called usually had a sour kick at first when biting right in. Then it turns sweet as apple pie. Kernel Ken would go out to every farmers field to plant the new crop across the Moon. The spreading of the Blue Corn was huge step in making the pioneering life grand. But it didn't stop with corn, soon new crops, plants, trees, flowers where given the same treatment. So explains why the trees are blue and the grass as well on the Moon. Kernel Ken would travel across the galaxy to spread that shining Blue Corn across space. Until retiring to his famous farm on the edge of a little town called Juke Springs.
Professor Swank
No comments:
Post a Comment