On a space station somewhere out there, two Nephilim meet up in a bar:
Jarv: There you are you son of mutton
Mearf: I thought that was you, lizzard breath.
Jarv: Have you heard?
Mearf: What are you talking about?
Jarv: Didn't you get the memo?
Mearf: Ok, now you are starting to annoy me like a rash.
Jarv: We're going to invade the planet our forefathers were at
Mearf: You mean the one mentioned in the Scrolls of Schmaarv?
Jarv: That's the one
Mearf: When did you find out?
Jarv: Two weeks ago. Clearly you didn't go to the all-hands meeting.
Mearf: You know how I am about getting up early in the morning.
Jarv: That's a shame, Shroub the Decidor did a nice PowerPaw presentation about it.
Maerf: Oh Meempz, I hope we get it right this time.
Jarv: Don't say that too loud, they might think you're un-nephilimic.
Maerf: What is this all about anyway?
Jarv: Something about making sure the food supply doesn't go bad.
Maerf: Huh?
Jarv: I forgot you flunked interplanetary economics. These things are what our Lords feed on. Where did you think the filet manjon they feed us came from? They have this stuff listed on the commodities board at LIZDAQ.
Mearf: I got to stop skipping those meetings. By the way, this talk of filet is just making me hungry.
Jarv: Waiter, can we get an order of buffalo arms?
Maerf: Ok, well tell me, how will we know I am in the right place when we land? I don't want to go through another debacle like on Zeta Primistan.
Jarv: Remote viewing shows that we will be landing on a large landmass near a very tall mountain range. Our orders are to bite in and taste one of the man-animals. If it is fat and tender then we're in the right spot. If it is a horrible taste then we are most likely in a place they call France. Something to do with the natives smoking some herb.
Mearf: How will be blend in?
Jarv: Leather clothes and motorcycles. Some other sources say we should refinance and buy a Hummer once we get there.
Mearf: Weird.
Jarv: Let's get back to stasis now.
Mearf: Wake me when we get there
Jarv: There you are you son of mutton
Mearf: I thought that was you, lizzard breath.
Jarv: Have you heard?
Mearf: What are you talking about?
Jarv: Didn't you get the memo?
Mearf: Ok, now you are starting to annoy me like a rash.
Jarv: We're going to invade the planet our forefathers were at
Mearf: You mean the one mentioned in the Scrolls of Schmaarv?
Jarv: That's the one
Mearf: When did you find out?
Jarv: Two weeks ago. Clearly you didn't go to the all-hands meeting.
Mearf: You know how I am about getting up early in the morning.
Jarv: That's a shame, Shroub the Decidor did a nice PowerPaw presentation about it.
Maerf: Oh Meempz, I hope we get it right this time.
Jarv: Don't say that too loud, they might think you're un-nephilimic.
Maerf: What is this all about anyway?
Jarv: Something about making sure the food supply doesn't go bad.
Maerf: Huh?
Jarv: I forgot you flunked interplanetary economics. These things are what our Lords feed on. Where did you think the filet manjon they feed us came from? They have this stuff listed on the commodities board at LIZDAQ.
Mearf: I got to stop skipping those meetings. By the way, this talk of filet is just making me hungry.
Jarv: Waiter, can we get an order of buffalo arms?
Maerf: Ok, well tell me, how will we know I am in the right place when we land? I don't want to go through another debacle like on Zeta Primistan.
Jarv: Remote viewing shows that we will be landing on a large landmass near a very tall mountain range. Our orders are to bite in and taste one of the man-animals. If it is fat and tender then we're in the right spot. If it is a horrible taste then we are most likely in a place they call France. Something to do with the natives smoking some herb.
Mearf: How will be blend in?
Jarv: Leather clothes and motorcycles. Some other sources say we should refinance and buy a Hummer once we get there.
Mearf: Weird.
Jarv: Let's get back to stasis now.
Mearf: Wake me when we get there
