Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
They are friendly, affectionate and catastrophically bitey.
Brian survived MAAM territory by pretending his moustache was an endangered species.
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.
Order is important. Especially when ordering strudel.
Laughing without a permit is allowed only on alternate Wednesdays.
Anyone taller than Eric must crouch during official photographs.
All spoons must be admired for at least three seconds before use.
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.
Brian means well, which is often how trouble begins.
Romance in space requires confidence, oxygen and a reliable escape pod.
Never kiss an alien until you know where its mouth officially begins.
Brian attempted charm. Medical bay recommends rest and fewer eyebrows.
Three planets have requested diplomatic training after Susan winked at their ambassadors.
The cargo bay is not haunted. It is administratively unsettled.
Parcel 9B walked away. It left a forwarding address and a rude drawing.
One crate of socks became three crates of suspiciously organised underpants.
The cheese has started humming. Gertrude says this is unhygienic.
Every galaxy has a key. Unfortunately, mine is slightly out of tune.
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.
My guitar picked up a distress call from a sandwich.
Dust is not inevitable. Dust is a declaration of war.
Robot underpants discovered in vent shaft. Sanitisation ongoing.
Brian described the floor as clean enough. Brian has been reported.
Space Cheese residue resisted standard mop. Upgraded to heroic mop.
I have survived three alien invasions and one of Gerald’s rehearsals. I fear nothing except paperwork.
Gerald tried to tune his guitar using the engine. The engine now plays jazz.
Eric Strudelhofen has made breathing paperwork-adjacent. Avoid official buildings.
Cedric opened a crate labelled Definitely Not Dangerous. It was dangerous.
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.
Parcel asked to speak to my manager. I promoted Cedric temporarily and hid behind the cargo bay.
