Thursday May 8, 2008
Book 10: The Longshoreman of the Apocalypse — Part I: Wet Feet


Captain Tagon: We need to adjust our schedules, and throw in a quick sleep cycle. The UNS teraport shaved about twenty hours off our twenty-six hour transit.
Elf: That's not "shaving." That's amputation.
Captain Tagon: Do you want to argue with me, or do you want to go to bed?
Elf: Sorry, sir. That shuttle already left the station.
Captain Tagon: Wait. . . What did I say?
Kevyn: Yummy shoes, Captain?