The exotic V8 spaceship had grey tile floors, tile made of a mystical stone from the planet Zambodia. Zambodian stone is so expensive because the unions are very powerful on that planet. This is a little known fact, but people will put their child on the jobs list as soon as their spacewife has a positive pregnancy test. It's been like that for generations. Although they're big and strong Zambodians have nothing going for them except their physiques. Everyone knows they aren't very bright, they simply use their muscularity to force people to pay them well for their labor. None of the really smart people - like me - want to let that stand. So my mission, like an intergalactic Margaret Thatcher, is to break those very same unions. Why was I picked for the job? Is it because my spacewife left me as soon as she discovered her pregnancy? Left for a Zambodian stone mason legendary for his conquests and the way he dallied with hearts? A mason who put my own child's name on the union list as soon as he'd bedded the spacewife who was rightfully mine? Didn't he already have one of his own? Why did he have to bother me? Why was he following me and taking my women? It's only right that I should turn the tables on him.
The stone was called Paraonyx. It made a heck of a tile, suitable for the inside of a powerful spaceship that flew through the sky much like an exotic bird, the parrot, from my home planet. Parrots are known for their plumage but in a pinch they're also a great chicken substitute. I remember when I caught one in my home territory of Florida and prepared it for my love, well my ex-love, for dinner. "Help me pluck these feathers!" I said, romantically, but she turned green and quickly exited the room. We never had any problems, don't get me wrong. That was only the first of her morning sicknesses. It was actually a sign of the love we shared. It was then when I knew I had to go to the space pharmacy and procure a pregnancy test for her. That's how considerate I was as a husband. But even before we got the result, I knew my seed had taken root. Now, as I thought of destroying my ex-child's future and making my ex-spacewife cry I became almost as hard as that stone tile, made of Paraonyx. And it was not just a hardness in my heart, that's not all, but also in my nether regions. If not for my compression suit everyone would have known! I have a really large penis so it would've been obvious, and some people probably would've been offended. No one believes this, but an elderly lady fainted once when she saw my penis. She'd been around the block a few times, if you know what I mean, but she'd never seen anything like me. It also makes other men feel smaller to be around a guy like me. That's why I stopped doing sports. In the locker room my massive penis and hyper intelligent quips made other guys hate me and try to bully me. One even tried to beat me up once! I guess that's why they have to interfere with my spacewomen. If you were a stonemason making good money, and then you saw a guy like me, I can see why you'd want to steal my woman. I can get another woman ANY day. But a guy like that never will. All he will ever get is someone else's gently used, already pregnant, spacewife. Honestly I almost feel bad for him.
"Great," I thought, as I throbbed with vengeance in my personal area if you know what I mean, "now I need to find a space Fleshlight to relieve the tension." I knew I had one somewhere. I had stopped in at a brothel on my way over but those women thought they were too good for me when my spacecredits were declined. I tried to explain about the lawsuit and how unfair it was but they threw me out. I digress. Having a high libido and an intellect big enough to match is nothing but trouble. Everyone is hassling you and stalking you and that costs you money. What a paradox! But soon, I knew, I would be successful. I could feel that my ship was about to come in. I would prove everyone wrong, and when I returned with a positive bank balance those spacewhores would HAVE to service me. Or maybe, maybe I wouldn't even have to dally with them. I would definitely meet a better woman with a better heart and body before I even got to that exit on the spacehighway. One who would never leave me for a handsomer, handier spaceman. One who would never tire of my awkward lovemaking. SOON.
