Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
A queen of the cosmos must remain calm, radiant and extremely suspicious.
Eric Strudelhofen attempted to bow to himself in a mirror. Talks remain difficult.
Brian means well, which is often how trouble begins.
Citizens of space, please stop naming moons after lunch items.
The universe is vast, but good lipstick travels further.
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.
If someone calls themselves irresistible, check for hidden tentacles and unpaid parking fines.
A good cargo officer knows what is in every crate. I have chosen a more mysterious path.
Parcel 9B walked away. It left a forwarding address and a rude drawing.
A box marked Fragile bit the forklift. Forklift expected to recover emotionally.
The cheese has started humming. Gertrude says this is unhygienic.
Never trust a package that looks smug.
Took a shortcut through a wormhole and arrived before I had left. I still billed overtime.
My moustache was mistaken for a diplomatic flag by a traffic warden moon. Negotiations remain itchy.
Collected vinegar near the event horizon. Lost two chips, one receipt and most of Tuesday.
I do not chase dirt. Dirt flees me.
Sixteen teacups entered low orbit. Recovery net deployed.
Dust level reached 0.04%. Emergency mopping protocols activated.
Robot underpants discovered in vent shaft. Sanitisation ongoing.
A regulation a day keeps democracy confused.
Citizens must salute small sandwiches because greatness often arrives in compact form.
Laughing without a permit is allowed only on alternate Wednesdays.
Anyone taller than Eric must crouch during official photographs.
If Brian says it is probably fine, put your helmet on.
If the galaxy ends, I would like it recorded that I warned everyone first.
Crew evacuated in six seconds. Brian returned for his moustache comb and ruined the average.
Gerald tried to tune his guitar using the engine. The engine now plays jazz.
MAAM hospitality includes tea, biscuits and a legally worrying number of teeth.
Karen has negotiated a treaty based on snacks, distance and shouting.
Do not accept hugs from anything with more than two elbows and a bib.
Brian survived MAAM territory by pretending his moustache was an endangered species.
Every galaxy has a key. Unfortunately, mine is slightly out of tune.
Played one chord so powerful the Communications Hub asked for a lie down.
Recorded a song with the engine room. The chorus exploded beautifully.
My guitar picked up a distress call from a sandwich.
