Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
Order is important. Especially when ordering strudel.
Laughing without a permit is allowed only on alternate Wednesdays.
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.
If a crate screams, inventory it quickly and from a distance.
The cheese has started humming. Gertrude says this is unhygienic.
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.
Crew evacuated in six seconds. Brian returned for his moustache comb and ruined the average.
Eric Strudelhofen has made breathing paperwork-adjacent. Avoid official buildings.
Cedric opened a crate labelled Definitely Not Dangerous. It was dangerous.
A guitar solo can solve many problems. Not legal problems, but many problems.
My guitar picked up a distress call from a sandwich.
Played one chord so powerful the Communications Hub asked for a lie down.
Recorded a song with the engine room. The chorus exploded beautifully.
The universe is vast, but good lipstick travels further.
If someone calls themselves irresistible, check for hidden tentacles and unpaid parking fines.
Three planets have requested diplomatic training after Susan winked at their ambassadors.
Susan declared the Communications Hub insufficiently romantic and replaced one alarm with smooth jazz.
A successful delivery is one where nobody sues the moustache.
My moustache was mistaken for a diplomatic flag by a traffic warden moon. Negotiations remain itchy.
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.
Dust is not inevitable. Dust is a declaration of war.
Sixteen teacups entered low orbit. Recovery net deployed.
Dust level reached 0.04%. Emergency mopping protocols activated.
Brian described the floor as clean enough. Brian has been reported.
If a MAAM alien says dinner is served, clarify whether you are dinner.
The MAAM delegation greeted the crew warmly, then tried to season Cedric.
Karen has negotiated a treaty based on snacks, distance and shouting.
Brian survived MAAM territory by pretending his moustache was an endangered species.
The galaxy would be easier to manage if everyone listened to me immediately and without snacks.
Brian means well, which is often how trouble begins.
Eric Strudelhofen attempted to bow to himself in a mirror. Talks remain difficult.
I have reviewed Gerald’s latest song and declared it almost legal.
