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A slow arrival...

Posted Feb. 12, 2021, 8:18 p.m. by Chief Petty Officer Tony (Ship) (William Deaton)

Deep in the bowels of the Constellation, in a long-forgotten corner, there lay a unremarkable tracksuit - or at least it appeared unremarkable. It hadn’t always been there, of course - though it’s presence was more chance than purpose. It had started as a single thread; drifting through the vents by way of an unexpected encounter with another ship, eventually settling in the aforementioned bowels. Thankfully, no laxatives were needed during the journey. Over time, the thread had multiplied, lengthened, and woven with countless twins to form a rather unremarkable tracksuit. And then, something strange happened.

New faces began appearing; first a few, then more and more - though an accurate count could never seem to be taken. Despite the myriad of various species and genders represented, there were a few distinct commonalities amongst the new faces; cigarette addiction; black, slicked-back hair; and a name: Tony.


Cigarette smoke hung thick in the air of the seldom-used maintenance bay; dim light shone off of several-dozen heads of greasy hair. “RIGHT! Youse guys better listen up, ‘cause I ain’t in the mood ta repeat myself, capisce? Seems we’re here ta stay on this ship, and we Tony’s ain’t freeloaders. So I been talking to tha so-called boss,” [Here there was a chorus of scoffs and jeers, before the speaker called the group to order.] “Yeah Yeah, I know! Dere’s only one bossman here, and that’s me. But we gotta play by the rules, keep our noses clean, yea? Dat way we can live a bit more comfortably, yea? So I best not hear any complaints, got it? Youse guys know wat you’re good at, so go make yourselves useful. Now get outta here, you louts!”

-The Horde of Tonys


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