Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
If a crate screams, inventory it quickly and from a distance.
A box marked Fragile bit the forklift. Forklift expected to recover emotionally.
Parcel 9B walked away. It left a forwarding address and a rude drawing.
Found one moon, two spoons and a small legal department behind the emergency biscuits.
A regulation a day keeps democracy confused.
Any suspicious pastry is property of the state until I have finished eating 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.
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.
Gerald tried to tune his guitar using the engine. The engine now plays jazz.
Cedric opened a crate labelled Definitely Not Dangerous. It was dangerous.
I do not chase dirt. Dirt flees me.
Robot underpants discovered in vent shaft. Sanitisation ongoing.
Space Cheese residue resisted standard mop. Upgraded to heroic mop.
Dust level reached 0.04%. Emergency mopping protocols activated.
They are friendly, affectionate and catastrophically bitey.
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.
Karen has negotiated a treaty based on snacks, distance and shouting.
A successful delivery is one where nobody sues the moustache.
Took a shortcut through a wormhole and arrived before I had left. I still billed overtime.
Parcel asked to speak to my manager. I promoted Cedric temporarily and hid behind the cargo bay.
Delivered three crates of Space Cheese to Nouala. Eric immediately declared cheese a taxable emotion.
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.
Never accept a crown from a planet that also offers you a receipt.
A guitar solo can solve many problems. Not legal problems, but many problems.
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.
Recorded a song with the engine room. The chorus exploded beautifully.
Romance in space requires confidence, oxygen and a reliable escape pod.
Brian attempted charm. Medical bay recommends rest and fewer eyebrows.
Never kiss an alien until you know where its mouth officially begins.
If someone calls themselves irresistible, check for hidden tentacles and unpaid parking fines.
