Re: Ye New Galactic Bar & Grill & Phong\'s Head Cantina - After Hours
Taking another swig of his Spatten, Puke produces a crank-operated telephone and has the operator patch him into Fleet Command.
"Send a dropship of colonial chunklings over to the local wrecker lot to pickup Nausea-One. The dirty Texrak I paid to feed the meter must have skipped out."
Hey there Fyron, cheers. Heres to the first round.
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...the green, sticky spawn of the stars
(with apologies to H.P.L.)
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