Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
If the parcel is ticking, humming or politely asking for legal representation, do not sign for it.
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.
Parcel asked to speak to my manager. I promoted Cedric temporarily and hid behind the cargo bay.
The universe is vast, but good lipstick travels further.
Brian attempted charm. Medical bay recommends rest and fewer eyebrows.
Susan declared the Communications Hub insufficiently romantic and replaced one alarm with smooth jazz.
Three planets have requested diplomatic training after Susan winked at their ambassadors.
Royal patience is infinite. Mine, sadly, is not.
Brian means well, which is often how trouble begins.
Citizens of space, please stop naming moons after lunch items.
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.
Eric Strudelhofen has made breathing paperwork-adjacent. Avoid official buildings.
Crew evacuated in six seconds. Brian returned for his moustache comb and ruined the average.
Cedric opened a crate labelled Definitely Not Dangerous. It was dangerous.
A good cargo officer knows what is in every crate. I have chosen a more mysterious path.
The cheese has started humming. Gertrude says this is unhygienic.
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.
Dust is not inevitable. Dust is a declaration of war.
Space Cheese residue resisted standard mop. Upgraded to heroic mop.
Dust level reached 0.04%. Emergency mopping protocols activated.
Brian described the floor as clean enough. Brian has been reported.
A regulation a day keeps democracy confused.
Laughing without a permit is allowed only on alternate Wednesdays.
Any suspicious pastry is property of the state until I have finished eating it.
Anyone taller than Eric must crouch during official photographs.
Music is the language of the universe, except on Tuesday when it is mostly feedback.
Recorded a song with the engine room. The chorus exploded beautifully.
Misplaced guitar again. Suspect gravity, Brian, or a very ambitious cupboard.
Invented a new genre called panic funk. Karen says it already existed whenever I enter a room.
They are friendly, affectionate and catastrophically bitey.
Space Cheese distracts MAAM aliens for exactly nine seconds. Use those seconds wisely.
Karen has negotiated a treaty based on snacks, distance and shouting.
Brian survived MAAM territory by pretending his moustache was an endangered species.
