The Big Fat Star, known to men as that of Bethlehem, was beheld by Captain Bloodmonkey. And he *knew*. He knew it was no Star. Rather, it was the exhaust vent of the Jolly Wagon of Destruction, the Machine of Consumption, the Flaming Mothership of Mass. He gave the order and the Rock Ship Kurmatum al Hurd turned towards their distant foe.
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12 Comments
This is crazy exciting! I can smell the stench of grim ripper.
I hope it’ll but be a gripping yarn, milady.
Aaa, pa SO ovce na ladji. Po prvi epizodi sem mislil, da je ovca samo na zastavi.
Dobro so se skrile.
Oh, really, Sir, it’s not fat at all, that star, but spiky. Spiky as in fashion model.
Yes, well … and the sheep are fluffy but not fat. But lo, even the evenstar is fat and bloated by a runaway greenhouse effect, should not the spiky star also perhaps be fat?
Fat spikes in the sky, yes, I can imagine that.
See, it’s not so hard! And stars really shine because globules of interstellar fat fall onto their gravitationally attractive superheated surfaces and sizzle mightily!
Like Intergalactic Planetary French Fries
Yes. Pretty much. That’s why you’s gets pigses in space.
I apologize for the delays. It takes around 3 hours work to produce one of these images, time I just haven’t found recently. I should have time Wednesday evening.
I have set my watch to Wednesday 8.00 GMT, laddie.
Goddammit …
just finished some illustrations for work … argh … must sleeeeep. Urk.
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