Disaster 7

DISASTER 7

Through blinding meteor showers and one of the worst solar winds ever to hit the Lorezian sector of the Universe, the small exploratory spacecraft, Disaster 7, finally began making its approach to the barren planet Clyde.

“Captain Doofus,” a voice said, “could you please explain to me one more time what we’re supposed to be doing here?”

The captain, who wasn’t exactly the most likeable character in the Intergalactic fleet, took his hands off the steering wheel and turned to his lowly subordinate.

“Private Dweeb, we are here to confirm to THE HEAD OFFICE that no known intelligent life exists on this planet,” he answered, stubbing out his cigar on the console.

Not sure if that was the answer he wanted, the private decided to change the course of the discussion and asked another question.

“Captain, can I ask you another question?” he asked.

Captain Doofus wasn’t one to mince words.

“Yes,” he said, knowing full well that the private had just asked a question by asking if he could ask a question. He decided he wouldn’t mention that, though.

“What happened to the previous ‘Disaster’ spaceships, numbers one through six? And why were they called ‘Disaster’?”

The captain knew these questions would arise sooner or later. He quickly pulled another cigar out of his pocket and fired it up with a wooden match that he expertly sparked off of his two day old growth of whiskers.

“Son,” he said, even though the private wasn’t really his son—that was just a term he used to address his crewmate, (but now that he thought about it, he wondered where that term originated from. Panama? Japan? Nebraska? After five minutes and 24 seconds of mulling it over, he figured he should probably get back to the conversation at hand) “the reason this ship is called ‘Disaster’ is because THE HEAD OFFICE decided not to call these ships ‘Tragedy’ any more. You see, years ago there was an entire fleet of spaceships called ‘Tragedys’, numbers one through nine, I believe, and for some mysterious reason they all crashed on this planet trying to do the same thing we are, resulting in the horrific deaths of dozens of brave men, women, and children.”

This newfound information seriously concerned Private Dweeb, and he felt a lump rise in his throat. He pondered what had happened to the previous six ‘Disaster’ spacecrafts, but after four minutes and 47 seconds of contemplation about whether or not he should ask Captain Doofus this question, he figured he probably didn’t want to know. It probably wasn't good, whatever happened to them.

Captain Doofus once again took control of the steering wheel, and as the two weary astronauts began entering the atmosphere of the barren planet, a loud alarm began sounding in the bridge, warning them of impending doom.

Which proved yet again that there really wasn't any intelligent life on the planet Clyde.



485 Words