Me and Agnus (minus the revision letter - G) explored our first planet together. No foolin?. It was a real hoot for us both. She stepped off LaDy?s ramp and left footprints in the dirt same as me. Only a real person could have done that.

The locals tossed us each a souvenir bathrobe then sprayed us with flowery smellin? perfume. Their planet was one great big carpet of flowers - every sort imaginable. They made me dizzy. We stunk for the rest of our visit on Funspot. We stunk for weeks afterwards, too.

Funspot was what I decided to name that wacky planet.

Agnus was thrilled to be out and about, of course. But before that ceremonial how-dya-do, I figured my pretty blonde companion was the sad result of space sickness. I don?t recall who was happier to see the fact that she was alive finally sink into my hard-boiled head, her or me. Heck, we musta been a vision of pure delight, smilin? large and huggin? sweetly, ?cause them wee alien couples all snuggled each other closer. "An auto-reaction to love," Agnus explained.

Love? Hot damn! Amazin?, isn?t it, that our first contact should be with the likes of these folk. It must be a sign of more good things to come. Can?t wipe the smile off?n my face no way no how. I?m still thankin? my lucky stars and hummin? some silly song as I record this. Good feelin?s are sure contagious. The love bug. That?s what I gots.

We couldn?t a'picked a prettier place to start our courtship. Funspot was the smallest planet in the Lotus Galaxy. Me and the little lady figured we oughta start with the planet that might not take so long to survey. It was a sweethearts? paradise, with top rate rooms and amenities. We were given carnival games to play, prizes to win, cute critters to ride on and breakfast in bed. We swam in a lake called the Silvery Rain Basin that tasted just like raspberry iced tea. I made Agnus put on a uniform 'fore we left the ship, but she was only too happy to go back for the bikini she was?.uh?.born in, or fabricated in.

Back to business. We spent a week on Funspot, relaxin? and recordin? our findings. We met with many inhabitants. I spoke at the schoolhouse all 'bout Earth and bein? a Star Pilot. Agnus manufactured a hundred cloth patches for them adorable youngsters to stitch onto their school scarves.

The old timers were a wealth of info, naturally. One of ?em named Too Tall, on account of his towering three-foot-five stature, did most of the gabbin?. He said he and his kind were called wumpils. Oddly enough, the planet?s historical and current social system was unchanged. No one group, or wumpil, has ever been ?in charge? of things. Too Tall didn?t even understand the concept of government. Apparently, wumpil folks have always done whatever pleased them. The reason their system works so well is ?cause of their natural tendencies to be sweet and courteous. Every wumpil owns the same amount of property. Nobody seems to get grand ambitions. They never get in heated debates, nor get angry neither. I gave the place five stars on my travel log. Five big stars. You can't not love a wumpil.

When we returned to the ship, LaDy complained about her near empty fuel tank. Agnus and me were stuffed to the gills with a wide samplin? of wumpilicious cuisine. I felt a tad queasy from drinkin? too much lake water. Agnus said she'd like to start a scrapbook. I told her I needed a long nap and some sunburn lotion. We reluctantly said our farewells to Too Tall and all them other little Funspot folks, then lifted off.

That's it for now. Not quite as homesick as I once was,

Shaula Randolf, Star Pilot: 3rd Class & Agnus (the future Mrs. Randolf)

pilot

lost in space
on a sweet holiday
clueless but happy

pilot

candlelit dinner
my compliments to the cook
a blonde hair in my soup

pilot