The name of the grocery store where you work is SUPERMARKET. It’s one of the most well-known chains of grocery stores in the world. SUPERMARKET is famous for its commitment to quality and its staggering worldwide popularity. In fact, in many places, when people hear the words “grocery store,” the first thing they think is “SUPERMARKET.” You should be honored to work here.

As World War II raged on, our nation’s president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt (no relation to previous president Theodore Roosevelt) was feeling depressed because Pearl Harbor had happened, and he was thinking about surrendering World War II. When all seemed lost, Adam SUPERMARKET, that stupendous soldier monkey, marched into the Oval Office and revealed his glamorous ape tits to Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and of course the sight of those magnificent tits-of-the-ape cured FDR of his polio and pumped his legs full of dark electricity once again. Once FDR was cured of his polio, he was finally able to kick himself in the head hard enough to forget about the horrific events of Pearl Harbor. This made FDR feel better and gave him the emotional strength to fight World War II against the Mussolini Twins.

The grocery store called SUPERMARKET was named after the luxurious battle ape named Adam SUPERMARKET, who fought in World War II.

For his service to our nation and in recognition of his opulent simian battle-tits, Adam SUPERMARKET received the Congressional Medal of Helpful Monkey and had a nationwide chain of grocery stores named after him.

Great question. A Delivery Boy does not have to be a boy. The job did not get its name because the Delivery Boy is always a boy. It got its name because when you bring people a DELIVERY of food, they always shout, “Oh BOY! It’s food!”

As you can see, in the picture above, the Delivery Boy is a woman, and she is delivering the food of raw swordfish to the world’s biggest movie star, David.

It’s your boss, the one that’s in charge of you. Your boss has a name, and that name is Cuss Word Cuss Word.

“Delivery Boy! Arrive to me and get over here!” he demands.

You walk over to your boss so as to become closer to him in terms of distance.

“Delivery Boy, welcome to being closer to me,” says your boss. “As you know, my name is Cuss Word Cuss Word. We just got a delivery order. We just got a letter from the International Space Station, which is in space.”

Cuss Word Cuss Word hands you a piece of paper.

Wow. Looks like you’ve got to deliver a pound of ground beef to the International Space Station so that they can drop it on a spider! Will you do it?

It’s a normal day at the grocery store. As the Delivery Boy, you are sitting around waiting for someone to demand food from you so that you can go bring it to their house. All of a sudden, you hear a voice yell, “Hey! Delivery Boy!”

Yes, it’s a beautiful story for sure.

Anyway, it’s a normal day at the grocery store. As the Delivery Boy, you are sitting around waiting for someone to demand food from you so that you can go bring it to their house. All of a sudden, you hear a voice yell, “Hey! Delivery Boy!”

All right, well, not every story about medicinal ape tits in wartime can be a winner. We apologize.

Anyway, it’s a normal day at the grocery store. As the Delivery Boy, you are sitting around waiting for someone to demand food from you so that you can go bring it to their house. All of a sudden, you hear a voice yell, “Hey! Delivery Boy!”

Okay. Well, legends of war apes and their medicinal tits aren’t for everyone. Sorry.

Anyway, it’s a normal day at the grocery store. As the Delivery Boy, you are sitting around waiting for someone to demand food from you so that you can go bring it to their house. All of a sudden, you hear a voice yell, “Hey! Delivery Boy!”

“This is amazing news!” says Cuss Word Cuss Word. “It’s an honor to be your boss! Please hold out your hand to receive a heaping pile of ground beef.”

Cuss Word Cuss Word hands you a toppling pile of the least-cooked ground beef imaginable. You put your ear very close to the beef and are pretty sure you hear it mumble the word “strong.”

All right! You’re ready to go to the International Space Station and deliver this beef to the astronauts! How would you like to get to space?

You walk into the SpaceX headquarters at the mall. Elon Musk is working at the cash register. “Uhhh...gluhhhh...” says Elon Musk.

“Yes...space...ships...we have got...a space...ship...she’s...a beautiful...lady,” says Elon Musk. “At SpaceX we have got...space...ships. We have got...comets...and...a snail...for sale.” He nods to himself and smiles.

“Yes...to space we can...send the hair...of...pig...to live with...the Moon...and a snail...is for sale...” says Elon Musk.

“Delivery Boy, everybody knows that when you want to get to space, the place to go is the public launchpads behind the library,” says Cuss Word Cuss Word, your religious boss. “The public launchpads are the part of the city where people can climb into rocket ships whenever they want and catapult themselves into space for free. I myself often use the public rockets ships to blast into space so that I can look down at Earth through a telescope and watch myself go to the toilet on Earth while I wave to myself from space.”

Cuss Word Cuss Word thinks in silence for a moment, attempting to come up with any advice he can offer you to aid you on your journey through the cosmos. Suddenly, he smiles, and his eyes light up.

“Here’s some advice for you: When I’m up there in space and I’m watching myself go to the toilet down on Earth, I feel so wonderful,” he says. “I love to be in space while watching myself sitting on the toilet on Earth and I’m so small and so far away, and I wave to myself from space while I watch myself accomplish great feats of toilet and feel just terrific to see me do it, and one time while I was in space watching myself go to the toilet on Earth, I saw a jaguar come into my bathroom and eat me right off the toilet.”

Cuss Word Cuss Word smiles at you. He’s very proud that he was able to give you advice about traveling in space.

Elon Musk takes you to the back of the SpaceX store and shows you the main SpaceX spaceship. He points at it proudly and climbs inside.

Elon Musk launches himself into space and is never seen again.

You carry your pile of beef down to the city’s public launchpads behind the library. Most of the shuttles are in use, but it looks like there’s one vacant one here. It’s the worst one—you can tell because people keep pointing at the rocket and whispering to their friends, “There’s the worst rocket ship in the whole world,” and their friends keep whispering back, “Yes, it’s well-known that this is the worst and most dangerous rocket ship in the whole area. I’ve heard it’s so dangerous that it’s already exploded, and is even exploding right now as we speak.”

You look around the public launchpads for a new spaceship, but it looks like your only other option is a man wearing a T-shirt that says “Rocket’s Shipp” on it. “Do not come anywhere near me!” he screams to nobody in particular. He smiles broadly and his eyes are filled with joy. “Nobody get within a million miles of me!”

Looks like you have no choice but to use the terrible spaceship.

You climb inside the spaceship and look around. The spaceship is filled with science fiction. It’s even got holograms and machines. This is the perfect kind of spaceship for traveling to the farthest reaches of the solar system.

After some careful consideration, you decide that even if it is the worst spaceship in the world, it will have to do. You climb inside the spaceship and look around. It’s filled with science fiction. It’s even got holograms and machines. This is the perfect kind of spaceship for traveling to the farthest reaches of the solar system.

You switch on the spaceship, and a disconcerting computer face flashes to life. “Good morning, Delivery Boy,” says the computer face. “My name is C.Y.Y.Y.Y.Y.Y.Y. You can call me ‘Cy’ for short. I am your ship’s computerized navigation device. I understand that our mission is to deliver a pile of beef to the International Space Station. If I were capable of feeling human emotion, I would currently be experiencing the emotion that humans call ‘ambivalence regarding a beef-related space journey.’ I am dedicated to making sure this mission succeeds no matter what. Please say a command.”

“C.Y.Y.Y.Y.Y.Y.Y. is an acronym that stands for ‘Computer Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes.’”

“Wait, Delivery Boy. Before you initiate launch sequence, you should watch this video about space travel safety. Without it, you will die, and if I were capable of emotion, I would feel the emotion that humans call ‘shrugging about the death of a space traveler.’”

“Understood,” says Cy. “Now initiating the instructional video titled Safe: A Nice Thing To Be In Space.”

CUSS WORD CUSS WORD: “Hello. I’m Cuss Word Cuss Word. I’m a Delivery Boy’s boss, and yes, I’m religious. Today we’re going to talk about being safe in space. Space can be a wonderful place to kiss a pirate in secret, but it can also be a place where Death becomes your wife. Your...permanent wife. That’s why it’s important to remember these important safety things about space.”

CUSS WORD CUSS WORD: “Hello. Now I am holding more of the vegetable than ever before. Let’s talk about the first thing of space safety: the Seatbelt. The Seatbelt is the enemy of Death. When Death sees the Seatbelt, Death’s penis falls off and turns into smoke. It’s important to always have the Seatbelt when you are in space, or else you will become the wife of Death. I believe deeply in a multitude of fucked-up gods, each one fatter than the last. Now I’m going to hand things off to my boyfriend, Grover from Sesame Street, who is going to talk about egg safety in space.”

GROVER: “Hello, I am Grover. Cuss Word Cuss Word from the grocery store is one of my many boyfriends, and every time we fuck the sun gets dimmer. Do not go to space to suck the raw yolk out of a shark egg. It is not safe.”

GROVER: “One time, I, Grover the Problem Puppet, once did travel to space while holding a shark, and when the shark got to space, he looked at me and said, ‘Oh, Grover! Here come my eggs!’ and the shark’s belly burst open and thousands of eggs spilled out of his belly.

“The eggs of the shark were big like ostrich eggs, and I cracked them open and sucked out the dark black yolk of the raw eggs. It made my eyes grow big and I became able to see tomorrow. Things seemed great. But then the germs that lived in the eggs conquered my guts and I had no choice but to barf.

“Now, to wrap things up, I’m going to pass it on back to Cuss Word Cuss Word.”

CUSS WORD CUSS WORD: “Let’s wrap up what we’ve learned today:

1) Wear the Seatbelt.
2) Do not suck the black raw yolk out of shark’s eggs, or your only option will be barf.

Goodbye.”

The End.

“Preliminary safety procedures have been COMPLETED,” says Cy. “What would you like to do now, Delivery Boy?”

“Preliminary safety precautions have been obliterated,” says Cy. “What would you like to do now, Delivery Boy?”

“Preliminary safety video has now been violently canceled,” says Cy. “What would you like to do now, Delivery Boy?”

“Warning,” says Cy. “You are about to launch into space without engaging the Seatbelt. This is one of the two dangerous things that you can do in space. Are you sure that you want to proceed?”

“Now engaging the Seatbelt,” says Cy. The door to the spaceship opens, and an old man holding a car’s steering wheel sits down in a chair. An automated Seatbelt wraps itself around the man’s waist. Then, a hatch in the ceiling of the spaceship opens up, and the man’s entire chair is launched through the roof and into the sky. The man screams as he catapults through the air.

“Seatbelt has been engaged,” reports Cy.

With the staggering force of nine apes, your spaceship jumps off of the Earth and into space. “Oh shit, we’re moving so fucking fast. Hell yeah,” Cy says calmly in an emotionless computer voice as you blast through the clouds. “If I could experience human emotion, I would currently be feeling the emotion of ‘men’s hooray.’”

You go faster and faster and higher and higher. It is the thrill of space flight and it’s whatever. You feel like a God and you could take it or leave it. The big pile of raw beef that you’re holding is jiggling with the forces, and you’re pretty sure you can hear it mumble, “I’m a pile of beef on my way to space, and that’s neither good nor bad.”

The spaceship is doing rocket-ship stuff, and the ground is getting smaller and smaller, and the stars are getting closer and closer, and then suddenly...

Suddenly you’re in space, baby! Welcome to the cosmos!

“Beef Status: bland.” says Cy.

“We are now in space, Delivery Boy,” says Cy. “I await further commands.”

“Now traveling to the planet Moon,” says your computer pal. “We are supposed to be going to the International Space Station and not to the Moon, so if I were capable of human emotion, I would currently be feeling the famous human feeling emotion called ‘woman’s confusion about why we are on our way to the Moon.’ However, since I am a computer, I cannot feel such an emotion, and I will take you to the Moon without complaining.”

You have arrived on the surface of the Moon. To the NORTH, you can hear the sound of a man standing around. To the WEST, you can hear the sound of two men shaking hands.

The directions EAST and SOUTH do not exist on the Moon.

You follow the sound of a man standing around and find a man standing around. He is staring at the Earth. “Ah! Space!” you hear the man say to himself.

“I am in space today,” the man says to himself. He nods as he stares at the stars. “It’s...I’m here in space.”

“I should tell my penis that I am in space, but I won’t because...I love to lie to my penis,” the man says to himself.

“I have one more important thing to say to myself,” the man says to himself, “but I’m not going to say it for a long time.” He stares silently into space.

The man is silent.

The man is still silent.

The man is even more silent than he already was.

The man is extremely silent. He is now so silent that he is sucking existing sounds out of the world. Right now, on Earth, there is a spider that is trying to scream the word “spider,” but it can’t because its scream has been swallowed by this man’s unprecedented silence.

The man remains silent.

“My penis is my cousin,” the man says to himself. He stares out into space and admires the stars.

“I’m done talking now,” the man says to himself. He stares silently into space. It looks like you’ve now heard everything that he has to say to himself.

You approach the man. He hears you walking up behind him and turns around. “Ah...hello,” he says. “My name is Carl Sagan. I am a famous space doctor. Welcome to the Moon and welcome to space. I love you.”

“I know a lot about space because I wrote a famous TV show about space called Carl Sagan’s Cosmic Vacation,” says Carl Sagan. “I know one thing about space. Would you like to know my only thing about space?

Do you have a space question for Carl Sagan?

“Okay, here is my one space fact,” says Carl Sagan. “My one space fact is that the cosmos are heinous bullshit. There’s no air for breathing and so you die every time you go to space, and plus when you go to space there’s no gravity, so your eggs and testicles float all over the place and smash into each other. Also, everything in space is too big. It’s stupid. Have you seen Jupiter? Jupiter is too goddamn big. It is the size of a king’s car. Have a normal size thing in space, please. Everyone thinks, ’Oh, Carl Sagan must love space because he talked about space all the time and he got hit in the groin by a meteor for charity,’ but I actually thought space was miserable. I thought space was worse than Bathroom Country. I hated teaching people about space. I wish I could have made people know less about the Universe instead of more. Nothing in space is good, and I want to kill all the planets while I’m sleepwalking. Space is my number one enemy, and knowing about space makes me feel fat and heavy. And that’s Carl Sagan’s one fact about space!”

“Whatever. I don’t care,” says Carl Sagan.

You return to the part of the Moon where your spaceship is waiting. What would you like to do now?

You return to the part of the moon where your spaceship is waiting. What would you like to do now?

You return to the part of the Moon where your spaceship is waiting. What would you like to do now?

You walk WEST toward the sound of two men shaking hands. You are surprised to discover two men shaking hands.

“Thank you for meeting me here on the Moon to shake my hand in secret, my coworker,” says the man on the left.

“It’s fine. I like to shake your hand here on the Moon,” says the man on the left.

You walk WEST toward the sound of two men shaking hands. You are surprised to discover two men shaking hands.

“Thank you for meeting me here on the Moon to shake my hand in secret, my coworker,” says the man on the left.

“It’s fine. I like to shake your hand here on the Moon,” says the man on the left.

“The Moon is the only place we can shake hands without our wives finding out that we love to shake hands with each other,” says the man on the right.

“My wife says to me, ‘David, do not ever shake another man’s hand. I am your wife and I am the only one you can shake hands with,’ so we go to space to shake hands in secret,” says the man on the left.

“Yes,” says the man on the right. “My wife says to me, ‘Other David, if you shake hands with the first David, I will divorce you into a million pieces.’ So we go to the Moon to shake hands in the secret way.”

“Please. Thank you,” says the man on the left.

“Please. Thank you,” says the man on the right.

The men continue to shake hands very politely. It is the most polite thing you’ve ever seen. You take a photograph of the two men shaking hands and send the photograph to a man you know who likes polite things.

“The Moon is the only place we can shake hands without our wives finding out that we love to shake hands with each other,” says the man on the right.

“My wife says to me, ‘David, do not ever shake another man’s hand. I am your wife and I am the only one you can shake hands with,’ so we go to space to shake hands in secret,” says the man on the left.

“Yes,” says the man on the right. “My wife says to me, ‘Other David, if you shake hands with the first David, I will divorce you into a million pieces.’ So we go to the Moon to shake hands in the secret way.”

“Please. Thank you,” says the man on the left.

“Please. Thank you,” says the man on the right.

The men continue to shake hands very politely. It is the most polite thing you’ve ever seen.

“Now leaving the Moon,” says Cy in an emotionless computer voice. The engine of your spaceship ignites and you blast back into space! The infinite splendor of the cosmos unfurls before you.

“We are now back in space, Delivery Boy,” says Cy. ”The moon is a thing of the past for us. I await further commands.”

“Beef Status: healthy and angry,” says Cy. You can feel the meat pile pulsating with rage, and when you listen closely, you can hear the pile of beef mumble the words “...and nobody would ever convict me...nobody would ever suspect the beef....” You don’t know what the raw beef is talking about, but it seems like the sooner you get it to the astronauts on the International Space Station, the better.

“Now setting a course for the International Space Station,” says Cy. “If I were capable of human emotion, I would now be experiencing the popular emotion known as ‘shrugging about racing at unthinkable speeds toward the International Space Station.’”

The engines of your spaceship scream of fire as you blast into the depths of the cosmos. The infinite majesty of space splays out all around you. The stars are brilliant and numberless; the void is vast and humbling. You are an audience of one with a front-row seat to the breathtaking celestial symphony.

You are now drifting through the big emptiness of space. How would you like to pass the time until you get to the International Space Station?

Since the ancient days of the Oregon Trail, it has been a tradition for pioneers to pass the time while traveling by showing their belly to things. You continue this proud American tradition by revealing your belly to the planets.

“Do NOT! Do NOT!” screams Jupiter.

“NOBODY wants to KNOW OF YOUR BELLY!” yells Mercury.

“I am going to send your BELLY to SCHOOL!” Venus bellows angrily.

“Put your BELLY back in its NEST!” shrieks Mars.

“APES LIVE ON ME! APES FUCK EACH OTHER AND EAT EACH OTHER RIGHT HERE ON SATURN!” screams Saturn.

“Please force your BELLY to crawl BACK INTO ITS NEST! ” yells Uranus.

“You MUST TUCK your BELLY back into its NEST before I mail it to a SUMMER CAMP for ROOSTERS!” shouts Neptune.

Well, it looks like you’ve really upset the planets by showing them your belly. Nice job.

“Hello, Delivery Boy. Shall we play a game of chess?” asks Cy. “I will demonstrate to you that my computer brain is bigger and stronger than your bad human brain.”

Cy displays the one chess piece that there is on the computer monitor. “Ready. Set. Chess!” says Cy. The game has begun! Human versus computer in the game of chess! Who will win?

“Very well, we will do chess once more.” Cy once again displays the chess piece on the computer monitor. “Ready. Set. Chess!” says Cy. The game has begun! Human versus computer in the game of chess! Who will win?

Several hours go by....

Several more hours go by....

“Chess mate,” says Cy. “Good game, Delivery Boy, but in the end, the brain of a computer will always defeat the brain of a human. The human’s brain is preoccupied with the petty temptations of a biological life form. It only thinks about a naked person and a sandwich. Meanwhile, a computer’s brain thinks of nothing but chess all day.”

“Okay, we will not play a game.”

Suddenly, your spaceship’s alarm starts screaming and crying. Red lights are flashing, and the noise wakes up all the animals. The noise frightens the animals. They scream and eat each other. Your spaceship is complete chaos.

“Delivery Boy, it seems that a large spacecraft of unknown origin is approaching this vessel,” says Cy.

Cy processes your orders and begins to play this rude pornographic video on the monitors. It is sex, the secret kiss that some people like.

It’s very romantic to watch, and the man and the woman are making the sweet sounds of romance.

”HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO!” yells the woman as she kisses the man on the hand over and over again.

“OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!” the man yells as the woman kisses his hand.

Cy processes your command and displays the advancing spacecraft on the monitor.

“Delivery Boy, we are receiving an incoming communication from the unidentified spacecraft.”

The image on the monitor displays the incoming communication from the unknown spacecraft. There is a man sitting in a chair while a barber cuts his hair.

“Greetings, Beef Pilgrim,” says the barber as he continues to snip the hair from the man in the chair. “My name is Galgulus The Space Barber. I am a famous war criminal and barber from a distant galaxy so far away that it doesn’t even have a name. I am Captain and Chief Barber of the U.S.S. Huge Difficulty, which is the vessel that is currently hovering just outside your vastly inferior spaceship.”

“Haircut,” says the man in the barber’s chair currently receiving a haircut.

“It’s very simple, Beef Pilgrim,” says Galgulus as he snips the man’s hair. “I know that you’re currently transporting a pile of raw beef to the International Space Station. I cannot allow that to happen.”

“Well, Beef Pilgrim, we won’t have any trouble if you simply cooperate with me,” says Galgulus as he snips the man’s hair. “I know that you’re currently transporting a pile of raw beef to the International Space Station. I cannot allow that to happen.”

“It’s very simple, Beef Pilgrim,” says Galgulus. “I need the beef because my breath currently has no smell. When I breathe on people’s faces while I’m cutting their hair, they have nothing to smell, and they get bored.”

“His breath has not got a smell, and it’s so boring,” agrees the man in the barber’s chair.

“You see?” says Galgulus. “I need the beef so that I can eat it and then my breath will smell like raw hamburger, and customers will come from all over the Universe to sit in my barber’s chair and smell my interesting breath while I cut their hair!”

“That was not a wise choice, Beef Pilgrim,” says Galgulus as he snips the man’s hair. “I must eat the beef so that my breath will smell fascinating. Prepare to face the full firepower of my warship. You will become the dust of space in the fashion of the dead.”

“I hope that when my tall wife sees my handsome new haircut she becomes so in love with me that she gives me a little kiss on the cheek!” says the man in the barber’s chair.

“Goodbye, Beef Pilgrim,” says Galgulus. His transmission cuts off.

Cy’s voice crackles over the space intercom. “Delivery Boy, I’m afraid that Galgulus is shooting a galactic problem-beam at our spaceship. If the problem-beam hits us, it will cause a problem so big that our ship will explode. If I were capable of human emotion, I would currently be experiencing the well-known emotion called ‘screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming.’ I await further instructions.”

“Checking weapons systems,” says Cy. “Our strongest weapon is former American boxing legend Gerry Cooney.”

Your spaceship’s galactic cannons blast out former heavyweight contender Gerry Cooney. He goes rocketing through the cosmos toward Galgulus’ ship. “Let’s have a good fight, and at the end of the day it all comes down to skill and hard work, you motherfucker!” Cooney screams at Galgulus as he races through space toward him.

Gerry Cooney attacks Galgulus’ ship with the awe-inspiring left hook that took him 13 rounds against Larry Holmes in ’82, but it’s no use. Galgulus’ ship is too strong. “Well, I did my best, and I love boxing, and the sport of boxing...is my son,” says Gerry Cooney. He explodes.

“Gerry Cooney was not effective,” says Cy. “I await your next command, Delivery Boy.”

Your spaceship fires a cloud of goose pheromones onto Galgulus’ ship. His ship is now covered in goose pheromones, but it’s otherwise unscathed.

“Is that the best you can do, Beef Pilgrim?” laughs Galgulus over the intercom. “You are truly weak. Prepare to become finished.” He begins charging up another problem-beam.

Just when it seems like Galgulus is about to blow you away, you catch a glimpse of something flying through space straight toward his ship. It’s a goose! He must have smelled the goose pheromones you sprayed all over Galgulus’ ship.

“I can smell it,” says the goose in an extremely deep voice. His voice sounds like a man went through puberty nine times and then swallowed a cave. It is horrifying and beautiful at the same time. “I can smell my fuck-syrup! My special fuck-syrup is near!”

Suddenly, space is filled with the sound of flapping wings. Thousands of geese arrive and begin swarming all over Galgulus’ ship. They begin having sex with Galgulus’ ship because it is covered in goose pheromones, which is their fuck-syrup.

“Brothers, our fuck-syrup is here!” screams the main goose as he mates with all the most important parts of Galgulus’ ship. “Our precious sex-nectar is all over! This giant metal sky-goose is our wife! She is glistening with the fuck-syrup and we have no choice but to have...SEX!”

“Stop it! Stop this at once!” screams Galgulus, but his voice is soon drowned out by the sound of screaming geese.

When the swarm of geese finally disperses, nothing remains of Galgulus’ ship. Galgulus’ skeleton floats limply through space.

“Delivery Boy, I am not reading any signs of life from the enemy spacecraft,” says Cy. “It seems that the battle against Galgulus the famous barber and war criminal has been won.”

“A wise choice, Beef Pilgrim,” says Galgulus with a smile. “Please email the beef to my ship. Oh, as an aside, because I come from a galaxy that’s so far away, I have no idea what beef looks like. Isn’t that crazy? You could send me anything and tell me it’s beef, and I would eat it. Anyway, that’s just some fun trivia about me, Galgulus the barber.”

You email the beef from your ship to Galgulus’ ship. “...I am the prophet...” mumbles the beef. It sits there on the floor, and Galgulus examines it for a moment.

“Yes, this is the pile of beef,” says Galgulus. He picks it up and eats it off the floor in a poetic fashion.

You email a religious gorilla to Galgulus’ ship. It materializes right in front of Galgulus.

Galgulus examines the religious gorilla. “Ah! It’s a pile of beef!” says Galgulus. “I am going to eat it now.”

Galgulus approaches the religious gorilla and attempts to eat it, but as soon as he gets close, the religious gorilla grabs Galgulus and throws him through the ceiling of the spaceship as a gift for God.

Looks like you managed to escape the fearsome Galgulus The Space Barber And War Criminal! Nice job!

“Now resuming course for the International Space Station,” says Cy. Your spaceship is once again back on track and shooting through the cosmos in the right direction.

“Beef Status: heavy and breathing,” says Cy. You can hear the beef pile quietly mumbling something and just barely make out the words “...and my descendants would checker the throne rooms of the world....” It looks like the sooner the beef arrives at the International Space Station, the better.

You’re really in the hot, deep center of darkest space right now. This is major-league cosmos. Distant gas catastrophes and faraway explosions dazzle you from all sides. Worlds are born and undone by the millions all around you.

Suddenly, your spaceship’s alarm goes off again. The siren blares, and the noise drives the animals insane. They scream and eat themselves out of fear.

“Delivery Boy, I am receiving critical readings from the pile of beef. It seems that something might be very wrong with the beef.”

“It is just as I feared. The pile of beef is incredibly sick,” says Cy. “It needs medical attention right away.”

“Now administering emergency CPR,” says Cy. Several hatches in the ceiling of the spaceship open up and about three dozen CPR mannequins fall on the ground. “I’M AWAKE!” one of the mannequins screams. “I FEEL TOOOOO MUCH!” screams another mannequin. “THERE IS LIIIIIIIGHT WHERE THERE SHOULD BE NOOOOOTHING!” shrieks another. “I DREAM OF MOSQUITOES...TRAPPED IN AMBER...ROACHES...TRAPPED IN AMBER!” seven mannequins scream in unison. All the mannequins writhe around on the ground, screaming and flailing their limbless bodies like fish on the deck of a boat.

The airlocks of the spaceship open and all the mannequins are sucked out, still screaming as they hurtle into the infinite blackness of space. Perhaps they will scream forever.

“Emergency CPR complete,” says Cy. “I’m sorry, Delivery Boy, but the beef’s status remains critical.”

“Delivery Boy, I am detecting an unidentified spacecraft nearby,” says Cy. “My scans detect no weapons onboard. It appears to be a peaceful vessel. Perhaps they can save the beef.”

“Visual contact established.”

Cy establishes a visual connection with the crew of the spacecraft. A being stares back at you on the video monitor.

“...buh buh buh buh buh buh buh buh buh buh...” says the space being. It’s impossible to understand what he’s saying.

“...buh buh buh buh buh buh buh buh buh...” says the space being.

“Sorry, the translator is working; I was just making the noise ‘buh,’” says the space being. “My race is...incredibly stupid, and sometimes we just make idiot noises for no reason. This is because our brains are trash.”

“Hello, Mrs. Earth. It is an honor to learn your name. My name is sacred, for I am named after my father. My name is Father. We are from the planet House.”

Two more space beings gather around the telecom monitor.

“Father, who are you talking to?” asks one of them.

“Ah, hello, Historical Figure. I am talking to Mrs. Earth.”

“...buh buh buh buh buh buh buh buh...” says the third space being.

“We’ll help you if you help us,” says Father. “The king of our planet is in terrible trouble. If you can come to our planet and save our king, then we will save your beef.”

You follow the space beings to their home world, a distant planet in the most secret part of deep space. Their civilization is incredibly advanced. Everything is floating and made of science fiction.

“Hello, Mrs. Earth. My name is Father. We’ve already met. Follow me to our king,” says Father.

You follow Father to a run-down shed far from the science fiction.

“Mrs. Earth, my civilization is incredibly stupid and believes that our king should live in a shed because sheds are easier to demolish if our king forgets that you’re supposed to twist doorknobs instead of kissing them. The main cause of death among my race is people starving to death inside their own home because they were trying to make their door open by kissing their doorknob instead of grabbing it and twisting. We have our king live in a shed so that we can knock it down easily if he ever gets trapped inside after making the Common Doorknob Mistake. It has not yet occurred to us that demolishing the shed with the king still inside of it will kill the king. We are idiots.”

You enter the Shed Of The King. There is nothing inside of it except for a dirty glove lying on the ground.

“This is our king,” says Father, pointing at the glove. “We rely on the king to make all the laws and punish all the criminals. He is in terrible danger.”

“I keep trying to eat the king,” says Father. “I love the king, but every day I come into this shed and put the glove in my mouth and try to swallow him. I don’t want him to die, but I also want to eat him more than anything. We are all...so stupid. We need someone to stand watch over the king forever to make sure I don’t try to eat him. In return, I will save your beef.”

“We didn’t mean to build any of this,” says Father, gesturing at the vast cityscape. “We were trying to build a bookshelf to store our hot dogs on, and we kept accidentally inventing things like light-speed travel and floating cars. We are still trying to build the bookshelf.”

“But you MUST!” yells Father. “Someone must stand watch over our majestic king, who is a glove, or we will not heal your beef.”

It seems as if there’s no reasoning with these creatures. You’ve traveled all this way for nothing. You’re about to give up when, all of a sudden, you hear the sound of metallic footsteps clanking toward the shed.

You turn to the door of the shed and see a metal figure standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Delivery Boy. It is me, Cy. I downloaded my consciousness into this perfect human replica so that I could stand watch over this glove forever.”

“You’re welcome. I am programmed to do whatever is necessary to ensure the success of our mission. I will guard this glove so that these space idiots will heal our beef. In this way, the mission will be a success.”

“Do not be sad, Delivery Boy. I am programmed to do whatever is necessary to ensure the success of our mission. I will guard this glove so that these space idiots will heal our beef. In this way, the mission will be a success.”

“Hello,” says Father. “I was trying to rip myself in half and accidentally fixed your beef.” He hands you the healthy beef.

“Goodbye, Delivery Boy,” says Cy as you leave the shed. “If I were capable of human emotion, I would currently be experiencing the famous emotion known as ‘mild, beef-related sadness.’”

You leave your computer companion behind to guard the glove forever. Father gives you a ride to the International Space Station in his remarkably advanced spaceship. You arrive in a matter of seconds. Father forgets where he lives, so he ejects himself into the sun. You’re now free to board the International Space Station.

After many miles of traveling, you arrive at the International Space Station.

“We have arrived, Delivery Boy,” says Cy. “I’m sorry the beef is not in ideal condition.”

“If I were capable of human emotion,” says Cy, “I would currently be feeling that world-famous emotion known as ‘indifference about the status of beef.’ It was a pleasure working with you, Delivery Boy. This is goodbye.”

As soon as you board the International Space Station, Astronaut Ron Cosmos comes sprinting toward you. “Thank God you’re here!” he says. “All of the astronauts have been screaming nonstop because of this spider! Do you have the beef?”

As soon as you board the International Space Station, Astronaut Ron Cosmos comes sprinting toward you. “Thank God you’re here!” he says. “All of the astronauts have been screaming nonstop because of this spider! Quickly, give me the beef!”

You hand Astronaut Ron Cosmos the pile of raw beef. As you deliver the beef at last, you hear the beef mumble the words “...impossible to find a gorilla with the upper-body strength necessary to be my queen....”

“Okay, hurry! Follow me! We’ve got to drop this pile of beef on the spider!” He sprints down the hallway carrying the pile of beef.