A 4-post collection

Challenge #01776-D315: One Fine Afternoon in a Security Detainment Centre

"Look at you ! You started a fight with 5 people because they made fun of your alien friend, and you only got 3 broken teeth, a dislocated shoulder, a black eye and a 15 000 credit fine for the broken furniture!"

"True, but you didn't see how they looked after the fight. Totally worth it." -- Anon Guest

Of all the cells in all the security offices in all the known galaxy, she had to walk into his. "Hwell Andronicus Barrow," she sighed. "What have you got into your head?"

Hwell winced. There was a reason why he had much preferred to roam the spaceways. And this was it. "I can explain--"

"No doubt ye can," she said. "I heard the security report. You've got yourself in a pickle, sonny Jim. You picked a fight with five miners because they made fun of your little alien friend, and now there's three broken teeth, a dislocated shoulder, a black eye, and a fifteen-Day fine for the damages."

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Waiting for equilibrium

The diet's going fine, before you get worried. Going out and eating at the same time is a pain in the arse because there's carbs freaking everywhere. Every single take-out deal has chips and if they don't have chips, then it's noodles or rice.

Carbs, carbs, everywhere, and hardly a scrap to eat.

Beloved recorded an audio of themself trying to get deconstructed burgers for the family, this Friday gone. They had to explain 'no buns' four times. They just didn't understand.

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Challenge #01418-C323: The Button

"You should have told me what that button did."

"You shouldn't have pressed it!"

"I wouldn't have pressed it if i knew what it did!" -- OohLookShiny

"Just. Why?" said Holly.

"It was big and red and said don't touch on it," said the Doctor. "You can't understand what a raw temptation that is."

"Maybe there was a reason it was like that," argued Holly. "You don't touch big red buttons that tell you not to touch them."

"You don't touch big

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Challenge #00985-B254: One Skull-cracking Morning in a N'Ozzie Holding Cell

What the Bleep! am I doing with a traffic cone, a black lace thong and a feather boa?

Two things were certain to Hwell. One: the light hurt. Two: it must have been one hell of a night, last night.

"You understand that I only call him my 'business partner' because it is forbidden to label cogniscents as 'lucky pets'." That had to be Ax'and'l. Urgently distancing himself from Hwell's previous revelry and subsequent swathe of damage.

If, however, the swathe of

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