Star Karflugon 22-11-13.08.55

I’m surrounded by idiots.

Far be it from me to question the wisdom of Meeporpian High Command and the Space Academy algorithms that assembled my crew, but I may be requesting a formal inquiry into the qualifications of my distant second in command, Gurishi Tooshoos, who persists in letting his moral compass interfere with our mission. Granted, we do not fully know our mission–having not quite attained need-to-know status–but in lieu of a clearly stated mission, the chain of command must be respected.

I fear that Guri showed something less than respect tonight in the ship’s canteen when he claimed to have constructed my likeness out of a pile of mashed poturdles and then proceeded to reenact the day’s events, imitating my voice in a manner that produced much amusement from other crewmates and the cook staff but in no way reflected reality. I do not sound like that!! And I certainly do not look like that–although I admit I have fallen off on my Compeloton sessions of late and my six stomachs are not as trim as they once were.

It’s okay, I have six karflugons to get into shape for the first beach day on Naruba. Speaking of which, time to hit the steam tubes!