The Hitchhiker's Guide to General Nonsense

Chapter 8

  Railgun was not a pleasant sight, even for those from the memes topic. In fact, your brain distorts the image, so you can't see the the true horror of his appearance. But that paled in comparison to the personality. Let's just say he was always looking for a reason to be pissed. He also hated hitchhikers.

His species had been left behind by evolution. Left to die. But they powered through, and now they were the cringe compilations of the galaxy. Vogsphere, their home planet, has tried everything they can to redeem itself with breathtaking majesties, but the Vogons just kill them then shit on their graves. Within a few years, they had all moved away to another cluster in the galaxy and now formed the backbone of the QuizUp Civil Service. They were civil the same way a war is "civil."

Somewhere in a dark cabin, a match flared up. It flared up nervously. The owner of the match wasn't a member of the Jokes topic, but he knew all about them, and had every right to be nervous.

There were monstrous shadows everywhere. Dilara breathed a silent thank-you to the PARTY PALACEED topic. The PARTY PALACEED topic was a wild bunch that had been hired to do catering for the Jokes topic on the strict condition that they do their job competently, which of course, they never did. This angered the Jokes topic, and that suited them fine. The only good Jokes topic is a very irritated one.

Dilara heard a groan near her. She blew out her match, and got out a bag of peanuts. She offered them to the now W O K E Miles. Miles muttered incoherently to himself. "Here, have some," Dilara offered. "You've probably lost some protein and salt being teleported here. "As if I need more salt," Miles replied bitterly. He still ate them, because he could. "It's quite dank in here. I can't see shit."

Dilara always wondered why humans had a habit of saying the obvious, then repeating themselves. At first, she thought it could be that human brains would start working if they didn't stop talking. There was plenty of evidence to support that. However, she thought that too cynical, so went for a new theory. She now thought that they just said it to get to the 10 minute mark on Youtube to get some sweet, sweet ad revenue. There was also plenty of evidence to back this up.

"I would like to ask where we are, but I'm afraid of what the answer will be," Miles inquired with lots of fear, doubt, and all the emotions you get when there's a presidential election.

"We're in the galley cabin of ship that belongs to the Jokes topic," Dilara frankly replied.

After some more looking around and confusion, Miles just couldn't take it anymore. "How did we even get in here?"

To that, Dilara replied "We hitched a ride" like it was as mundane as math homework.

"So you're saying we just stuck out our thumbs and some sleazy fuck with cocaine on all of the seats came over, and we were just like 'Yes, hello, can you take me to Pluto? Planet's about to be destroyed.' " was the answer she got.

"Basically," was the reply Miles got back. The amount of calmness was starting to irritate him.

Dilara found the light switch to the room. "Cover your eyes," she commanded, and turned on the lights to the room. Even she was shocked at what she saw. "Is this really the inside of a flying saucer?" Miles asked.

Railgun heaved his yellow fat ass across the bridge. He always felt irritable after destroying populated planets, and he wished someone would tell him it was wrong so that he could shout at them. He plopped into a chair, hoping it would break and that he would have something to be angry about, but it only creaked under his weight.

A young guard from the Jokes topic came in. "FUCK OFF, KID!" Railgun yelled at him. The guard exited immediately, thankful that he wouldn't be the one that would have to deliver the news that there was a wonderful new spaceship that rendered all hyperspace routes. unnecessary.

Another door slid open, but it wasn't greeted with shouts, as it came from the entrance that came from the PARTY PALACEED (boner trophy). It came in with a lunch tray and a huge smile. Railgun was delighted. If anyone from the PARTY PALACEED topic was smiling, it meant something bad had happened. And something bad always meant more yelling.