DISCLAIMER! I, the aforementioned and underwritten author of this
electronically composed and archived fan fiction am not in any shape, form,
or amalgamation the owner or creator any Star Fox Characters, ideas,
concepts, planets, stationary, breathing aids, clothing articles, or of the
sort. Any similarity between these events, characters, or of such between
this electronically composed and archived fan fiction and those of real-
life is purely coincidental, and I, though apologetic, am truly laughing at
your face. Thank you. END OF DISCLAIMER!
Prologue: Or Sit Down and Shut Up.
Space, in a logical standpoint, is a butt-load of wasted room. As it stretches an infinite distance, one would say that 100% of it is truly nothing more than hard-vacuum and dark matter. But if one were to say that, one would also have to admit that 100% is made of Planets. 100% could also be stars, or black-holes, pulsars, quasars, solar systems, comets broken off from extinct planets and on their way to exact their vengeance upon other planets, planets, moons, moons of planets, moons of moons of planets, planets of moons (as is the case of poor, daft Regederious IV, V, VI, and VIII,) asteroids, bits of rock, dust, and for some odd reason, a giant blueberry muffin that was constructed by the ethnic baker tribes of New Krispo.
But going back to solar systems, this story is about a group of individuals from one such place. The solar system was named Lylat, and its location is roughly thirteen hundred light-years from the bright center of the universe. With that distance, it's a bit of a drive to get back and forth from those two places, but the inhabitants of the former really didn't mind. From the time they were all random bits of DNA floating around in the primordial soup, Lylatians had always been a hardy group. Their evolution was roughly equal to the hairless apes of Earth, but roughly about the time that mammals started popping up and mucking about on the planet, not much difference could be told between the ones who could stand and walk on two feet and think and dance the Charleston (they're now called the "haves") and animals who remained on four or more legs, and usually couldn't do much more than make various noises and large quantities of waste material (called the "have-nots".)
What was there to do? Obviously you couldn't have two giant groups of creatures that look the same, but are not on the same level of capabilities- then, God smiling on the universe lifted His shirt sleeves, cleared His throat, and then it dawned on the author that he had no idea where he was going with all this.
Moving on!
After a period of many, many eons, our story finally comes to present time. Well, present in Cornerian time, which according to the philosophers of the Panzer Switch Sect of Consciousness, will happen on year 3990. However, some other scientists, thinkers, and drunks believe it to already have happened in 1993-1997. Others still, have the idea that it will come to pass whenever the hell it feels like it.
The time doesn't matter much anyway, so forget it.
But to some certain persons, time would be one of their true enemies, if not a very flagrant un-well wisher. Or maybe a well wisher that didn't wish them too much bodily harm. Or something like that. Or
Oh forget it.
BE SURE TO WATCH THIS FIC FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, AND IF YOU NEED SOMETHING TO DO IN THE MEAN-TIME: HERE'S A SECRET CODE! BE SURE TO HAVE YOUR DECODERS READY!
25-15-21/ 13-9-19-5-18-1-2-12-5/ 23-18-5-20-3-8-5-19!!!
Prologue: Or Sit Down and Shut Up.
Space, in a logical standpoint, is a butt-load of wasted room. As it stretches an infinite distance, one would say that 100% of it is truly nothing more than hard-vacuum and dark matter. But if one were to say that, one would also have to admit that 100% is made of Planets. 100% could also be stars, or black-holes, pulsars, quasars, solar systems, comets broken off from extinct planets and on their way to exact their vengeance upon other planets, planets, moons, moons of planets, moons of moons of planets, planets of moons (as is the case of poor, daft Regederious IV, V, VI, and VIII,) asteroids, bits of rock, dust, and for some odd reason, a giant blueberry muffin that was constructed by the ethnic baker tribes of New Krispo.
But going back to solar systems, this story is about a group of individuals from one such place. The solar system was named Lylat, and its location is roughly thirteen hundred light-years from the bright center of the universe. With that distance, it's a bit of a drive to get back and forth from those two places, but the inhabitants of the former really didn't mind. From the time they were all random bits of DNA floating around in the primordial soup, Lylatians had always been a hardy group. Their evolution was roughly equal to the hairless apes of Earth, but roughly about the time that mammals started popping up and mucking about on the planet, not much difference could be told between the ones who could stand and walk on two feet and think and dance the Charleston (they're now called the "haves") and animals who remained on four or more legs, and usually couldn't do much more than make various noises and large quantities of waste material (called the "have-nots".)
What was there to do? Obviously you couldn't have two giant groups of creatures that look the same, but are not on the same level of capabilities- then, God smiling on the universe lifted His shirt sleeves, cleared His throat, and then it dawned on the author that he had no idea where he was going with all this.
Moving on!
After a period of many, many eons, our story finally comes to present time. Well, present in Cornerian time, which according to the philosophers of the Panzer Switch Sect of Consciousness, will happen on year 3990. However, some other scientists, thinkers, and drunks believe it to already have happened in 1993-1997. Others still, have the idea that it will come to pass whenever the hell it feels like it.
The time doesn't matter much anyway, so forget it.
But to some certain persons, time would be one of their true enemies, if not a very flagrant un-well wisher. Or maybe a well wisher that didn't wish them too much bodily harm. Or something like that. Or
Oh forget it.
BE SURE TO WATCH THIS FIC FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, AND IF YOU NEED SOMETHING TO DO IN THE MEAN-TIME: HERE'S A SECRET CODE! BE SURE TO HAVE YOUR DECODERS READY!
25-15-21/ 13-9-19-5-18-1-2-12-5/ 23-18-5-20-3-8-5-19!!!