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The science officer wanted more out of life than the truth – he wanted a piece of ass. Space Ass. High-mother-fucking-five.
That’s why when he jumped out of the shuttle and on to the planets surface he thought it would be a good idea to juggle the data recording instruments. You know, impress that cute geological surveyor from Deck 9, the one with the smoking bod. Show her that this science officer wrote the equation on how to par-tay.
But, shit, weaker gravity and all, he fucking broke the data instruments. Again. Stupid planet’s surface. Yeah Class M for My ass he thought.
“Are you all right,” the saucy geological surveyor cooed.
“Yeah,” he said feigning optimism.
Who was he kidding. Those fuckers back at the Mother Ship were going to be pissed. Big league.

Date Written: January 09, 2004
Author: scoop
Average Vote: 4

01/13/2004 anonymous (1):
01/13/2004 Texxx (4): Dammit. He almost scored.
01/13/2004 Dylan Danko (4): This was really good but you get a point off b/c you know damn well I wrote the equation to party.
01/13/2004 Will Disney (5): I'll bet that science officer is you, right Scoop?
01/15/2004 Jimson S. Sorghum (4): Um. I think you should add that point back, Dilly, because he did say "par-tay."
01/15/2004 Jimson S. Sorghum: Mulp.
03/23/2004 Mr. Pony (5): This has happened to all of us, I think; if not in an actual sense, then in a metaphorical one.
03/25/2004 anonymous (1): Too easy a target. Sci-fi; bumbling science nerd.
01/3/2005 The Rid (5): "Class M for 'My ass,' he thought."