Spoiling for a fight, or a party.
23 Sep 20223noch
Now don't get me wrong, I love a good party, and I'm always happy to bring my own booze. But when I stopped off at Mackenzie Relay with 125 tons of wine and the import clerk had the audacity to ask me what happened to the "other three tons" well, now, I take that as a personal affront. It's like these fine fancy folks haven't even heard of the word "spoilage." You try hauling a shipment of glass bottles past a neutron star and see where it gets you! And they should well know, wine is like vodka, once it's open, you have to finish the bottle.But they're going to learn this week, because while I'm out killing pirates so that they can have their little gala, my hold is going to be packed to the gills.
That's right, they'll get their full 128 tons next time. 128 tons of week-old fish that's been trucked all over the system, flipped around, and repeatedly thawed and chilled with every shield cell and heat sink I pop. There is no bouillabaisse in the known galaxy that's going to cover up that smell, I don't care how many Master Chefs you drag into the kitchen. The best thing you might be able to hope for is some enterprising young Maitre d' to rebrand it as "Stewed Thargoid Heart." Because I'm going to make sure that everyone in attendance wishes they had a corrosion resistant digestive tract.
But that's fine, after all, you don't believe in "spoilage." I'm sure with enough wine, they might not even notice.