Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
Romance in space requires confidence, oxygen and a reliable escape pod.
Brian attempted charm. Medical bay recommends rest and fewer eyebrows.
Susan declared the Communications Hub insufficiently romantic and replaced one alarm with smooth jazz.
Never kiss an alien until you know where its mouth officially begins.
Nouala is free, provided everyone does exactly what I say before I say it.
Citizens must salute small sandwiches because greatness often arrives in compact form.
All spoons must be admired for at least three seconds before use.
Any suspicious pastry is property of the state until I have finished eating it.
Music is the language of the universe, except on Tuesday when it is mostly feedback.
Played one chord so powerful the Communications Hub asked for a lie down.
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.
MAAM hospitality includes tea, biscuits and a legally worrying number of teeth.
Space Cheese distracts MAAM aliens for exactly nine seconds. Use those seconds wisely.
Brian survived MAAM territory by pretending his moustache was an endangered species.
Do not accept hugs from anything with more than two elbows and a bib.
A queen of the cosmos must remain calm, radiant and extremely suspicious.
Citizens of space, please stop naming moons after lunch items.
Never accept a crown from a planet that also offers you a receipt.
I have reviewed Gerald’s latest song and declared it almost legal.
The trick to surviving space is simple: never trust anything smiling with too many teeth.
Crew evacuated in six seconds. Brian returned for his moustache comb and ruined the average.
If the galaxy ends, I would like it recorded that I warned everyone first.
Eric Strudelhofen has made breathing paperwork-adjacent. Avoid official buildings.
Cleanliness is next to survivability.
Dust level reached 0.04%. Emergency mopping protocols activated.
Space Cheese residue resisted standard mop. Upgraded to heroic mop.
Brian described the floor as clean enough. Brian has been reported.
A successful delivery is one where nobody sues the moustache.
Parcel asked to speak to my manager. I promoted Cedric temporarily and hid behind the cargo bay.
My moustache was mistaken for a diplomatic flag by a traffic warden moon. Negotiations remain itchy.
Took a shortcut through a wormhole and arrived before I had left. I still billed overtime.
The cargo bay is not haunted. It is administratively unsettled.
Found one moon, two spoons and a small legal department behind the emergency biscuits.
The cheese has started humming. Gertrude says this is unhygienic.
Parcel 9B walked away. It left a forwarding address and a rude drawing.
