Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
The cargo bay is not haunted. It is administratively unsettled.
A box marked Fragile bit the forklift. Forklift expected to recover emotionally.
Found one moon, two spoons and a small legal department behind the emergency biscuits.
Parcel 9B walked away. It left a forwarding address and a rude drawing.
I have survived three alien invasions and one of Gerald’s rehearsals. I fear nothing except paperwork.
Eric Strudelhofen has made breathing paperwork-adjacent. Avoid official buildings.
Gerald tried to tune his guitar using the engine. The engine now plays jazz.
If the galaxy ends, I would like it recorded that I warned everyone first.
The galaxy would be easier to manage if everyone listened to me immediately and without snacks.
Eric Strudelhofen attempted to bow to himself in a mirror. Talks remain difficult.
Citizens of space, please stop naming moons after lunch items.
Never accept a crown from a planet that also offers you a receipt.
Never trust a package that looks smug.
Delivered three crates of Space Cheese to Nouala. Eric immediately declared cheese a taxable emotion.
Took a shortcut through a wormhole and arrived before I had left. I still billed overtime.
Parcel asked to speak to my manager. I promoted Cedric temporarily and hid behind the cargo bay.
Romance in space requires confidence, oxygen and a reliable escape pod.
Three planets have requested diplomatic training after Susan winked at their ambassadors.
Never kiss an alien until you know where its mouth officially begins.
If someone calls themselves irresistible, check for hidden tentacles and unpaid parking fines.
Every galaxy has a key. Unfortunately, mine is slightly out of tune.
Recorded a song with the engine room. The chorus exploded beautifully.
Invented a new genre called panic funk. Karen says it already existed whenever I enter a room.
My guitar picked up a distress call from a sandwich.
If a MAAM alien says dinner is served, clarify whether you are dinner.
Brian survived MAAM territory by pretending his moustache was an endangered species.
Space Cheese distracts MAAM aliens for exactly nine seconds. Use those seconds wisely.
The MAAM delegation greeted the crew warmly, then tried to season Cedric.
A regulation a day keeps democracy confused.
Anyone taller than Eric must crouch during official photographs.
Citizens must salute small sandwiches because greatness often arrives in compact form.
Any suspicious pastry is property of the state until I have finished eating it.
I do not chase dirt. Dirt flees me.
Sixteen teacups entered low orbit. Recovery net deployed.
Robot underpants discovered in vent shaft. Sanitisation ongoing.
Space Cheese residue resisted standard mop. Upgraded to heroic mop.
