>as he walks to his spaceship, he hears a soft muffled crying
>he turns around, once more, and smiles at his wife
>I'll be back in no time, just selling these old rubber duckies on the next space station and that'll be all
>but they both know its not true
>because if it were, what would the blue paint and satellite equipment in the ships cargo holds be for?
>and why would he have needed to outfit his once modest scout class ship with heavy duty construction equipment?
>I know you're doing this to make us all proud, his wife says, trying to smile through her tears
>I just hope this time the plan will work out
>Dont worry, my love, he answers
>Ive got everything under control
How. The fuck. Am I now living this.
Just one more trade.
One more sale.
Another couple of stealth ducks moved and I'll be out of the game.
BUT WHATS OVER THAT HORIZON??!!
Ive lost control of my life.