Monday, July 30, 2018
White Collar
I've really been wanting to put out a science fiction graphic novel, but I've got too much on my plate already. As a compromise, I'm going to start publishing infrequent workplace comic strips.
Thursday, July 5, 2018
Space Force
Donald Spacewalker maneuvered his space fighter alongside the massive capital ship USS Trump, the fastest, strongest, hugest ship in the entire US Space Force. Donald was part of an elite group of space fighter pilots tasked with protecting the space realm from attack from the Dems, an evil band of space losers headed by the whacko nut job Nan-si Pulossi. The pirates were a constant headache to the Space Force, harassing the mission of the fifth branch with annoying, yet ultimately impotent attacks.
But the true enemy of the Space Force was the Klinton Intergalactic Initiative, a deep state conglomerate that wanted nothing more than to bring down the Axis of Freedom that Donald had personally assembled from the greatest powers on the planet. He chuckled to himself as he thought about his diplomatic prowess. Not only was he the greatest space fighter pilot in the history of the Space Force, but he was also the most accomplished diplomat the world had ever known. Thanks to Donald, the US had joined forces with North Korea and Russia, put some sick burns on the failing European Union, and created a lasting peace that benefited the entire solar system.
"Donald!" came a frantic voice over his space communicator, breaking his nostalgic revelry. "Donald, come in! It's an emergency that only you can solve with your great brain and amazing skills!"
"I'm here," Donald replied. "What's up?"
"We've just intercepted some Klinton emails," the voice said over the space communicator.
"Emails?" Donald spat. "Looks like she's up to it again. Won't that nasty woman ever learn her lesson?"
"I've space-tweeted everything at you," the voice told him. "Godspeed you Donald Spacewalker!"
Tweets flashed across Donald's space console. It was worse than he thought. Those damnable Klintons! He looked at his console where he had taped up a holographic space photo of the beautiful Princess Ivanka. "This one's for you, you smoking hot piece of ass," he said, winking at the photo.
Without another thought, he punched the throttle and his space fighter zipped around the USS Trump, twirling in a beautiful display of ultimate spacemanship. As he came around the big part of the ship where there were a lot of guns and stuff, he saw them: a small band of weak and pathetic Klinton space fighters. Donald shot straight into the cluster of fighters with the sort of bravado and skill that no other human being could ever hope to match. The other space fighters scattered as he fired his space guns - PEW PEW PEW -- PEW PEW PEW!
The Klinton space fighters exploded all around Donald, but they fought desperately to take him down. His space fighter moved like a lion, or like a space tiger or something, cutting through the weak, sad Klinton space fighters. After a few punishing moments, the Klinton space fighters gave up and started to run, but Donald wasn't going to let them off that easy. He gave chase, easily catching them because his space fighter was the fastest and most best space fighter ever. He shot them down, one after the other, PEW PEW PEW -- PEW PEW PEW -- PEW PEW PEW!
"Don't mess with the Space Force!" Donald crowed triumphantly.
But the true enemy of the Space Force was the Klinton Intergalactic Initiative, a deep state conglomerate that wanted nothing more than to bring down the Axis of Freedom that Donald had personally assembled from the greatest powers on the planet. He chuckled to himself as he thought about his diplomatic prowess. Not only was he the greatest space fighter pilot in the history of the Space Force, but he was also the most accomplished diplomat the world had ever known. Thanks to Donald, the US had joined forces with North Korea and Russia, put some sick burns on the failing European Union, and created a lasting peace that benefited the entire solar system.
"Donald!" came a frantic voice over his space communicator, breaking his nostalgic revelry. "Donald, come in! It's an emergency that only you can solve with your great brain and amazing skills!"
"I'm here," Donald replied. "What's up?"
"We've just intercepted some Klinton emails," the voice said over the space communicator.
"Emails?" Donald spat. "Looks like she's up to it again. Won't that nasty woman ever learn her lesson?"
"I've space-tweeted everything at you," the voice told him. "Godspeed you Donald Spacewalker!"
Tweets flashed across Donald's space console. It was worse than he thought. Those damnable Klintons! He looked at his console where he had taped up a holographic space photo of the beautiful Princess Ivanka. "This one's for you, you smoking hot piece of ass," he said, winking at the photo.
Without another thought, he punched the throttle and his space fighter zipped around the USS Trump, twirling in a beautiful display of ultimate spacemanship. As he came around the big part of the ship where there were a lot of guns and stuff, he saw them: a small band of weak and pathetic Klinton space fighters. Donald shot straight into the cluster of fighters with the sort of bravado and skill that no other human being could ever hope to match. The other space fighters scattered as he fired his space guns - PEW PEW PEW -- PEW PEW PEW!
The Klinton space fighters exploded all around Donald, but they fought desperately to take him down. His space fighter moved like a lion, or like a space tiger or something, cutting through the weak, sad Klinton space fighters. After a few punishing moments, the Klinton space fighters gave up and started to run, but Donald wasn't going to let them off that easy. He gave chase, easily catching them because his space fighter was the fastest and most best space fighter ever. He shot them down, one after the other, PEW PEW PEW -- PEW PEW PEW -- PEW PEW PEW!
"Don't mess with the Space Force!" Donald crowed triumphantly.
Based on a true story.
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