EPISODE CXII - THE ONE WHERE THEY DO THAT THING WITH THE THING
Krashaki finally caught sight of the landing vessel after what seemed an eternity. The sun stared down at him threateningly, promising to bake his skin if he remained in one place
too long. What shade could be found was generally occupied by a reptile or not of sufficient size to accommodate his lanky frame. Thus, he plodded on even when he noticed the numerous figures dancing
around the ship.
Clad only in loincloths, the group of amber skinned, desert performers surrounded the landing vessel, gesticulating wildly and uttering animalistic sounds. Their elaborately painted faces stared up at the
burning orb in reverence as they thrust razor sharp spears toward the sky.
"What's going on guys?", Krash called out as he neared the group.
The dancing stopped abruptly. One of the performers stepped forward menacingly, speaking rapidly in a strange tongue as the others turned their weapons on the intruder.
Krash shook his head as the man talked. "No thanks, man.", the pilot replied, "I'm not much of a dancer."
The supposed leader stepped forward, gesturing toward the spaceship with his spear.
"Yeah, that's mine.", Krash said. "Well, actually", he admitted, "it belongs to Space Fleet, but they let me drive it."
The leader turned and spoke rapidly with his tribesmen. He looked back to Krashaki, pointing the spear at him, then at the ship.
"You want to look inside?", Krash asked skeptically. "Geez, I don't know. It's probably against regulations, or something."
The leader repeated his movements, looking earnestly at the pilot for a reply.
Krash studied the dancers for a few moments before responding. "Well", he said, clapping the leader on the back, "you guys seem pretty cool, so I guess it'd be alright."
