Screw the Universe by Stephen Schwegler, Eirik Gumeny Read Free Book Online Page A

“Hard to port!”
     
    “Captain, I don’t –” said First Lieutenant Duknerts before being tossed sideways again.
     
    “Starboard!”
     
    “Oh, dear God.”
     
    The crew was tossed clear across the ship. Again.
     
    “Nosedive!” commanded the captain.
     
    “What will that serve?!” yelled First Lieutenant Duknerts as he whizzed past Tyler, the captain having had the incredible foresight to install and then fasten a seatbelt.
     
    The Zdravo continued to evade the candy canes for the better part of a hour. The crew continued to be hurled in various directions, bouncing off a variety of furniture and people. Limbs were snapped, hands were severed, uglies were bumped. Eventually, the candy canes ran out of fuel and exploded a safe distance away from the Zdravo. Well, safe for the Zdravo. A cross-galaxy milk delivery ship got too close and everyone on board died horribly.
     
    “The fuck you’s tryin’?!” bellowed the Claus, having remained on the viewscreen the entire hour. “I’m gonn’ kill all y’all motherfuckers!”
     
    He fired another round of poison candy canes at the Zdravo.
     
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said First Lieutenant Duknerts.
     
    Duknerts walked somewhat unsteadily to the weapons controls, flipped a switch, and launched a massive fireball at the candy canes and, subsequently, everything behind them. This included the very same Planetary Ornament of Death currently being piloted by Santa Claus.
     
    “Oh, you piece of sh—” began Santa Claus, before exploding in a spectacular fashion.
     
    “There, problem solved,” said First Lieutenant Duknerts, turning around to face the crew. “You can begin thanking me now.”
     
    Instead of thanking, though, the crew was standing dumbfounded, every single member staring at Duknerts with his or her or its jaw slack.
     
    “What?”
     
    “You moron!” shouted Private Yvette Redshirt. “Don’t you know what you’ve just done?”
     
    “Um, no, no I don’t.”
     
    “You killed Santa Claus!”
     
    “So?”
     
    “So?!” continued Private Redshirt. “Claus is the right hand of Frosty the Snowman! You’ve unleashed Frosty’s wrath!”
     
    “That’s bull—”
     
    Just then the monitor went completely bright white. Eye-singeing white. Like walked in on one’s parents having anal sex while they were dressed as Bert and Ernie eye-singeing. Really, really fucking white is what’s trying to be conveyed here.
     
    “Is it on?” asked a voice coming from the View-Matic 7000. “What? It is? Thanks for telling me. Douche.”
     
    The crew of the Zdravo all donned their sunglasses. Captain Tyler put his welder’s helmet back on.
     
    “Isn’t that a bit much?” asked First Lieutenant Duknerts.
     
    “Never,” the captain said before turning his attention to the monitor. “Who is this? Space Marshal Orr? Mom? Jesus?”
     
    “No, it’s... Fuck. Is the video feed not working? What? It is? Murderous assholes, can you see me?”
     
    “No,” replied Private Redshirt.
     
    “You see? They can’t – Then why can’t they see me? Here. Let me look at it.” There was a pause, then the voice continued, saying, “You idiot, it’s zoomed in all of the way.”
     
    The camera pulled back and Frosty the Snowman came into view. Something was different though. Naturally, Captain Tyler was the first to bring it to light.
     
    “Ha! You’ve got titties!” he shouted, pointing at the viewscreen.
     
    Frosty looked down at his chest and discovered that he did indeed have a rather large set of boobs.
     
    “Okay,” he said, turning to look off-screen, “who did this? Was it Ron? I’m gonna – What? When? Oh, huh. Then who the hell else would have done this? It really seems like his kind of prank.”
     
    First Lieutenant Duknerts coughed, loudly.
     
    “Oh, balls,” said Frosty, returning his attention to the Zdravo.
     
    “No,” corrected Tyler, “breasts. Nice ones, too.”
     
    “They’re okay,” said