Chatper 4: Chicfela Meal
Summary: Teh creew of the Keastrel enjois a delishus meel at chicfela, and maybee meets sum new freinds along teh way
Aftar are epik battrel with the rebal shit, ew jumded to trhe exiut bekun. We wer abowt to jump to the nekst sektor, but then John[REDACTED] sad he waz very hungery, so we loked for somewher to ate. Teh bacon (heehee I'm gunna cal it bacon cuz I REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEALLY LIKE BAKEON LEL XD) Wuz fairly empty, other dan a few shups. Incide on of dese shoppes was a chicfela.
"Wow! I nevar thot that there were chicfeleas in FTL!" I sad lowdly. All of the Sudan, some big, harry doods waked up to me.
"Wut did u just say punk?" he screemd
"I'm soorry sir, I wus just taking with my fronds" I sade quirtly.
"DID U JSUT ASSUM MY GENDAR?!" he sade lolwdly.
It wuz than thAt I notised dat teh lorge man wuz waring a bro and hade reeeeeeely long hayr.
"No wundur u wer taking aboot chicfela, becuz only homophobik transphobik begots who suport teh sis normtative Fedarashon wuld go to sush a hamaphobik restrant!"
"Ok, hav a nice daye sir" I sad calmly. It wuz than thad I relized mai mistak, and drew my gum.
The man wit duh bra than chraged me trying too punsch me in teh fase. Tankfully, he stoped as suun as he seed that I hade my gun drown.
"Thes is whye we need gum controle, so thate we can saflee punsh notsees lyke yu in thu face!" he sad, running away.
"Jesus Christ, that fricker was crazy! John[REDACTED] sade."
"Plz refrane frum yosing dat kind of langwij in my gud Christen fanfection!" the othor sade, desending from thu hevens to stroke John wit lighting, erasing him frome the storey permanently.
"Why our we hear agin?" Jenna aksed me sexaliy
"I dint remembur, but thares a Chicfela right downe teh cornur, we shuld ate there!" I sad
"Yeh, we shuld, there the onlee restrant in duh calaxy that suprotes the federashon!" Jenna replied, as saxy as evar.
We proseeded to entar chicfela, order some sammiches, and sat down.
"We realy need a new captan, becuz neither of us no hew to plilot a shit." I sad
"If nether of us no how to dryve a shit, than how did we get herr?" she asked, wit a vary sexay ton of voyce.
"I reeely dint remembar." I sad. "Reguardless, we ned a captan, somewun to leed us."
Just than, a man waked up to are table.
"I hear u fedrashun guise need a kaptan. I culd probly do thu job." he sad, in a gruf ton of voyce.
He seemd jenuin, but yu cudunt trast anywun in a woreld tyrned aganst u. "Wut our ur kwalifikashuns? I asked."
"Wel, I wuz nevar part of the fedrashun, but Ive alwayz foght for her, and tuh only preson I hat moar than Barek Obonba is Stan himslef."
"But there booth the saym preson!" I sad
"I lik teh wai u thenk!" He sad, laffing. "I wuz gunna chrage yu for mah surfaces, but sence u seme kewl, I'm gunna dewit fur free."
"Tahnk u sire, wuts ur nam?" I asked
My nam iz...
CONTINYEWD IN CHATPER 5, CUMING 2027