>>508597062
"Lemons could be here" he thought, "I've never been on this planet before. There could be Lemons anywhere." The cool wind felt good against his bare chest. "I HATE LEMONS" he thought. Sweet Dreams are Made of These reverberated his entire space craft, making it pulsate even as the ancient gene therapy circulated through his powerful thick veins and washed away his (merited) fear of citrus after dark. "With a puddle jumper, you can go anywhere you want" he said to himself, out loud.