Murphy’s Law, and ensuing resulting chaos thereof.
[AN: You can get some really interesting ones over here: http://www.scottrainey.com/jokes/murphys_laws.htm]
There are rules to space travel. Primary amongst them is: Shut the flakking door. And many of them are cycled upwards or downwards depending on the frequency of use.
But always, somewhere in the top ten is: Never ask questions with an inherently obvious answer.
The
examples of the lawbreakers are numerous. Blex T’iiv once said,
“They’re only level three Deathworlders. What can they do to us?” and quickly found out.
R’ixxo the Mighty asked, “How can those squishy things conquer a solar system?” and got a very practical demonstration.
And many humans have had, “It can’t get much worse, can it?” as their epitaph.
And, in retrospect, Trader Ax’and’s should really learn to stop asking, “What else can this human do to make my life more complicated?”
The human had a nervous rictus and both hands cupping his genitals. “Hi,” was the only greeting he had.
“I take it your ‘date’ didn’t go that well.”
“Ah. No. Water-soluable clothing. Water sluice ride. Do I need to spell it out?”
Ax’and’l sighed. “Has a complaint been registered against Ambassador Shayde?”
Sherlock maintained his usual unreadable facade. “Mister Barrow refuses to press charges. He said he deserved it.”
“What did he do to–” Ax’and’l cut himself off. He was learning. “No. No. Never mind. I’m sure I’ll read about it in the news feeds.”
Hwell belched an anxious titter. “Yeah. She kind of made certain there was a lot of press…”
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