In the first quarter of the Precession we still were selling Uranium to Titanians. They paid in Dugh, but it wasn’t so easy to transport – 1 ton of Uranium = 50 Megaton Dugh. Like I said, not an easy job.

Next morning we find out that all Titanians evacuated due to an Ancient Prediction that Dugh will go ballistic, they left to near by Galaxy not saying a word. Se La Via Del Rigel.

We we broke and heartened, limited energy resources – Titanians used all the Uranium to shake the tail – shiiiiiit! – left us nothing but to pick the shovel and dig for Gold. New contract was issued, excavation began immediately. We got all the Gold of off Titan and were about to go about our boat, when a goat told, in rather cold and unfriendly manner – to turn right, when we had to turn left, hit and miss, kittens piss! Uranians attacked and stole all our gold, left us dead cold and introspective. Seriously!

Drifting in the orbit of a yellow fellow we got close enough, but not too close, to a base we could face and embrace the local race of Noids. By the laws of Multi-PultiMentional Definition Resolution we had to stay unnoticed and under recovery. When time goes 3 times slower then you’re used to everything feels like it should. Spores out, seed the plane @ 17728.1828 () 2727 )( 473881 — — in the ending. hoping to get a launch or at least a kickstart, soon we have to leave. Surprize, Surprize! Who’s gonna miss the Reptilians? Other Reptilians? Reptilian Hunters? None of those, and who cares? We’re going home. Fuck the Earth and the Noids, they’re good for no aquarium. Aum Sta Lasta Vasta Gibista, as we say in our code.

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