Captain Titanius Catknobbler had just settled back on his electrobunk, after removing his electrosox, electrotrousers and electroboxershorts when his intended departure into the next world (via the small bottle of happypax trouble-remover tablets) was interrupted by a call from the bridge. The second officer wanted him immediately. Something about a change in the circumstances.
Less than a minute later the Captain entered the bridge. A familiar whistling noise reminded him that he’d left his electrotrousers (and electroboxer shorts) behind in his cabbin. But he had no time for etiquette.
‘Glad you’re here’ said the second officer supressing a giggle. Having been a missionary for the Virgins of the Sacred Lava Swamp before landing the job of second onboard the Toothgroper, she was used to small dangly things in the undergrowth. She had seen it all – multi-genitalled biosnatchers, tri-sexual gingergoats, and even the fabled green-speckled bottom cuddlers of gabbywinkle asteroid. But there was always something new, she supposed. She just hadn’t supposed that the captain was going to show it to her.
‘Well?’ he asked eagerly. ’What’s changed?’
She regarded him carefully and was about to highlight a couple of things that seemed to have changed in some dramatic ways, but elected instead to concentrate on the disaster at hand.
She pointed at the top-of-the-range, state-of-the-art, high definition lcd display unit propped up on the main control unit by a tin of sardines. ‘Look’ she said.
The captain walked over to the display and looked. He looked again. Then he stopped looking, looked vaguely around the room, and then looked again. ‘Its impossibe!’ he cried. ’It’s a recording’ he said.
‘Nope’ said the second. ’it’s real’.
Floating (rather ostentatiously) beside the Starship Toothgroper was the presidential galactic transport vessel – the Starship Hipmoaner-a-matic. Complete, presumably, with the entire Galactic Government Assembly.
‘But’ stammered the captain. ‘But they got sucked up into the faeces reprocessing tubes……’
‘I know’ said the Second in command. ‘I sent them an ultra-lightspeed email and queried it. In triplicate.’ she added quickly. And she handed the captain a sheet of virtual artificial synthetic paper onto which a series of words were displayed by complex electronics which neither the captain nor the Second understood.
’Apparently, ’ she said, ’they were definately sucked in, but the system were immediately ejected through the reject system. Apparently the quality control system kicked in after quantum spectral analysis and they were judged to be an inferior quality shit".
Captain Titanius Catknobbler (known as Tobyjug to his friends) sat back in the captains glidomatic relaxastatic management-approved chair and sighed contentedly. Thank God for that, he thought to himself. He wondered if this would make any difference to his on-ship waste recycling profit calculations.
The (absolute) end.