Our hero, Gret Withers, is hurtling through solar winds at breakneck speeds to saved his beloved Chebberdina. Sweat glistens in the ridges of his deeply furrow brow as he maneuvers his trusty ship, The McGillicutty, to try to catch up to the gigantic, multi-limbed space-weasel that has stolen his girl!
"Don't you worry, Chebberdina! I've still got one last trick!"
Gret opens up his space-dashboard glove-compartment and produces two plutonium-powered maracas. "Space Mariachi Band! I need FULL-FIESTA POWER!"
A fully-equipped mariachi band assembles around Gret Withers and plays with enough festive fervor for Gret to pull even with the nefarious weasel. Gret deploys his space-megaphone.
"Give up, weasel! The chase is over. It's time to settle this like men. BATTLE AX COMBAT!"
Thousands of years from now, with the help of the most brilliant intergalactic judicial minds, it was determined that the truest form of justice could be achieved through a battle ax deathmatch on a barren asteroid. The Galactic Supreme Court was subsequently replaced with sweaty 20-foot-tall Norsemen with beards like steel wool and one very surly, churlish Giant Squid.
When they reach the asteroid, the space-weasel arms itself with over two-dozen double-edged battle axes, each edge lined with crystal from the claws of the mightiest space lobster presidents over the last millennium.
It took all of Gret Withers's vigor, cunning, bravery, ingenuity, and stick-to-it-iveness to whip out of his space-bazooka and blast the space-weasel to space-mithereens!
Chebberdina runs to the arms of the battle-weary Gret Withers. "Oh Gret! You saved me! I thought I would be doomed to be the Queen of the Space Weasels!"
"Not a chance, Chebberdina. Nobody steals my property."
"Could you buy me a new dishwasher when we get home?"
"Ah, shut-up, you dumb broad."
UNTIL NEXT TIME! GRET WITHERS: HERO OF THE BEST BEAUTIFUL, DARK SPACE OPERA EVER WRITTEN!
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