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Casmir's Drunken Evening
We last left our hero dribbling Olde Peculiar into the rather generous décolletage of Bral’s finest & hirsute-est entertainers of the feminine kind, his incoherent mumbles interspersed with grumblings of “ship” and “cheese”. What DID Casimir do that fateful 25 Flamerule, deep in the bowels of the RockRat Bar? One can only speculate…
- He wanted to examine her cargo hold.
- He went looking for his ship in her own personal Phlog.
- A booty that big has to have something hiding in it.
- We did lose the ship on a pitted asteroid, & man if you got a look at
her acne… - She was as big as his ship, Casimir was so drunk he just went right
in. - She offered Casimir some fine cheese…perhaps you’ve heard of fromage
d’hoo-ha?
Feeling a little burny, Cas? Heard a dose of Phlogiston will clear that up.
Love in the not-gay-manly-meat-shield-this-is-what-you-get-for-ripping-on-my-skills-you-bastard-way,
Lemmy
Our esteemed PM, (yes, that’s PlaneMaster,) was incredibly generous to direct the actions of my Humble character, however I feel no ill effects or shame resulting from my evening with Gargantuette. After all, my dear uncle, (may he rest in peace,) always said, “Why buy the
cow when you can f**k the pig for free.”
Toodles!
-Casmir
Yes, we Xixchil, too, have a saying, “Who cares what your mate’s ocelli look like when your coxa is in the Malphigian tube?”
-Xring
