Routine stop my ass...

PJ is gettin' worse. Th' lil shit's got a sweet-tooth that makes mine look like... like... hell if I know! Can't hide a frickin' Snickers bar on m' ship man before he finds it. I never shoulda introduced him to sugar man - there's a reason why his race doesn't have that shit on their dust-rock of a planet. Those lil' dudes hyped up on sugar is like settin a nuke off in the microwave. Can't even imagine what PJ would be like on caffeine.

Don't get me wrong man, I know the shit we make back on earth has a long shelf life than people do but man, what do you expect goes into makin' somethin' as good as a twinki or a pack of Doritos?? Now there's an Out Post that's 'bout 2 quadrants over, s'like a puddle jump away for us. Routine shit. We needed a few extra halogen probes anyway and Victor's been gripin' on 'bout needin' some bit for his blaster-guns. That and m' stash was runnin low cause a CERTAIN LITTLE 3'2 IMP THAT KEEPS EATIN' THE GOODS.

So we make for the Outpost - like a galactic Trader Joes deal - Duty Free. Ha! Anyway we get in there, as ya do, buyin' shit for show, stealin' other shit for pleasure, when PJ takes it up a notch and decides to just eat the goods right there in the shop. That dude is a bottomless pit - went through two barrels of Jelly-Bellies and got into th' old school comic-wraper Hubba Bubba before he got busted.

He meaning -we- got busted, man! Have you ever tried smooth talkin' a Gelantian? Those bastards got a temper to match their build! Man, that dude was pissed that we were jackin' shit from his Trading Post, and what was a routine stop ended with some mug-shots.

Good thing we were wearing someone else's faces though. Rarely to we ever leave th' ship without the genetic 'make-over' skins on. Seriously, if we went everywhere lookin' -just- like -us- we'd be banned form everything!