Untitled #3675
BUTCH, HERO OF THE GALAXY.
The C-class intergalactic fighter, aptly named " Balbina ," glided with characteristic grace toward the constellation Beta D . The unassuming craft, shaped like a Coca-Cola bottle with the neck cut off, moved through the vastness of the universe with incredible grace. Inside the fighter, in a somewhat cramped cabin, sat a rather young, tall man with expressive features and a thick shock of black curls. The man was busily typing something on a computer, perhaps to sweeten the task while sipping a glass of whiskey. "Come on! Get the hell out of there, old geezer!" his irritated voice could be heard. As if to spite his words, the computer screen still displayed the message: " I'm sorry, Butch , the selected operation is impossible to complete." Already deeply frustrated, he threw a glass of whiskey with all his might at the metal door behind which lay the Balbina's mess hall. With a resounding crash, the glass shattered into thousands of tiny pieces,...
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