The gallant crew of the U.S.S. Fluffy Tail
Another morning, another blog post not even started yet. Now I face a choice. Wear clean clothes to work or write on the blog.
Hello dirty clothes!
Plumb out of ideas, I asked my wife for a random topic. She said, “cats.” So here we go!
In space no one can hear you meow…
Ship’s Log, U.S.S. Fluffy Tail. Stardate 3.1415 rounded off to the nearest decimal point. We’re proceeding dangerously close to the neutral zone on our mission to map gaseous anomalies in sector Felinictus. So far no sign of Dog vessels. Meanwhile, my engineer says we’re running low on milk…
The attack came out of no where. We had no warning. As the ship rattled I sprang from the ready room to the bridge.
“Report!” I demanded.
There was no answer. I turned to find Commander Morris, Science Officer. “Dammit, cat, what the hell do the scanners show?” Continue reading →
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