Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
The universe is vast, but good lipstick travels further.
Never kiss an alien until you know where its mouth officially begins.
Three planets have requested diplomatic training after Susan winked at their ambassadors.
If someone calls themselves irresistible, check for hidden tentacles and unpaid parking fines.
Royal patience is infinite. Mine, sadly, is not.
Eric Strudelhofen attempted to bow to himself in a mirror. Talks remain difficult.
Citizens of space, please stop naming moons after lunch items.
I have reviewed Gerald’s latest song and declared it almost legal.
A guitar solo can solve many problems. Not legal problems, but many problems.
Played one chord so powerful the Communications Hub asked for a lie down.
My guitar picked up a distress call from a sandwich.
Recorded a song with the engine room. The chorus exploded beautifully.
I do not chase dirt. Dirt flees me.
Robot underpants discovered in vent shaft. Sanitisation ongoing.
Space Cheese residue resisted standard mop. Upgraded to heroic mop.
Brian described the floor as clean enough. Brian has been reported.
If a MAAM alien says dinner is served, clarify whether you are dinner.
Do not accept hugs from anything with more than two elbows and a bib.
Space Cheese distracts MAAM aliens for exactly nine seconds. Use those seconds wisely.
Karen has negotiated a treaty based on snacks, distance and shouting.
Nouala is free, provided everyone does exactly what I say before I say it.
Anyone taller than Eric must crouch during official photographs.
Laughing without a permit is allowed only on alternate Wednesdays.
Any suspicious pastry is property of the state until I have finished eating it.
If the parcel is ticking, humming or politely asking for legal representation, do not sign for it.
Delivered three crates of Space Cheese to Nouala. Eric immediately declared cheese a taxable emotion.
Parcel asked to speak to my manager. I promoted Cedric temporarily and hid behind the cargo bay.
Took a shortcut through a wormhole and arrived before I had left. I still billed overtime.
A good cargo officer knows what is in every crate. I have chosen a more mysterious path.
Found one moon, two spoons and a small legal department behind the emergency biscuits.
A box marked Fragile bit the forklift. Forklift expected to recover emotionally.
One crate of socks became three crates of suspiciously organised underpants.
If Brian says it is probably fine, put your helmet on.
Gerald tried to tune his guitar using the engine. The engine now plays jazz.
Cedric opened a crate labelled Definitely Not Dangerous. It was dangerous.
Eric Strudelhofen has made breathing paperwork-adjacent. Avoid official buildings.
