Brain Candy (cackling)

“Grace, I need your signature.”

Grace looked up from his work in his closet of an office. Stratt closed the door behind her.

“An autograph? I’m flattered.”

She pushed the work off his already disheveled desk and set a single paper on top. It kind of looked like his degree, it kind of looked like-

“A marriage license? Well, now I’m really flattered.”

“For legal reasons. Just sign.” Stratt muttered.

“Are you serious?”

Of course she was serious. She only was serious. But she seemed…uncomfortable? The feeling looked strange on her. Eyes dart between the paper and him. Arms crossed over her chest as if hugging herself. It was definitely a new look. They were in new territory.

“I’m not the marrying type.” said Grace. “And I think I forgot to propose.”

Stratt breathed in deeply. Steeling herself.

“Grace,” Her hands were fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve. “What I’m doing here is illegal. I’ve broken alot of rules to give the crew a chance to save us. But once the mission begins…the world order will need to go back to how it was.”

Grace listened intently trying to make eye contact with her glassy gaze. He hadn’t thought to much about the legality of it all. After all, that was her job.

“I will be put on trial. I will be found guilty. I will serve the rest of my life behind bars. That is my cost.” Stratt continued, “You, the team, will all be fine. But-”

She pushed the license closer to Grace.

“Spouses don’t testify in court.”

Finally she looked at him. She wasn’t telling him to sign. If that was the case she probably would’ve just forged his signature. Hell, she probably has a whole team just for that purpose. She was asking him.

His choice. Just between the two of them.

“We don’t have to sleep together, right?”

Her eyes went big. “God Grace! No! Just sign the damn paper!” she huffed.

He smiled. And put his name under hers.

Husband and wife.

Well, more like “Most powerful person in the world” and “Some guy she kept around.” But still. Till death do they part.

It's even funnier to think that he never told Grace about this.

Picture this.

Grace, recording a video diary for future human visitors or something:

"Oh boy, and the ERIDIANS are some of the nicest people you'll ever meet! They've done so much for me, I can't even put into words how grateful I am! Once we arrived on Erid, their top priority was saving my life despite the fact that their planet was dying! Me, a stranger, someone who doesn't even belong here! They went above and beyond for me, and all just because they're SUCH amazing, caring people. Right, Rock?"

Rocky, having flashbacks to the time he yelled "STAY THE FUCK BACK, NO YOU CAN'T HAVE THE TAUMOEBA! WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? ALIEN ISN'T PRIORITY? FUCK YOU! ROCKY WILL KEEP TAUMOEBA FOR HIMSELF! ROCKY WILL BLOW UP ALL OF ERID! ROCKY WILL....":

Now, somehow, their entire mental health is based on the continued life and happiness of this fairground goldfish that they picked up.

Neither of you know the first thing about how to care for even a healthy fish. This fish has been poorly cared for, has multiple diseases and the person who handed it over explicitly didn't expect it to live nearly as long as it already has.

You're frantically googling how to set up a fish tank, where to buy fish food, can you even take a fish to the vet? Your partner wants you to know that they're happy they made it home and survived their horrific ordeal, but also that if anything happens to the fish then they're going to kill everyone on this planet and then themself.

You're honestly wondering if you're even helping the fish, or just prolonging its suffering, but your partner will only accept medical help for their many injuries or engage in basic self-care once they're confident that the fish is being looked after.

So you get a tank. You set up a filter and all that stuff. You learn way more than you ever wanted to know about water temperature and ph and nitrate levels. The fish is safe. You start to develop some affection for the little guy. Your partner begins to recover. The fish begins to recover.

Which is when you learn that in its 'healthy' state, the fish regularly refuses to sleep when tired, keeps begging for food that is obviously unhealthy for it (and struggling to eat the food that you do provide because “it tastes gross”), and continually tries to persuade your partner to take it out of its nice safe tank so it can go explore the wonderful world of Outside, where the slightest mishap will kill it instantly.

Love the soft, curious moments of them sharing about their own cultures, biology, etc. I do think Rocky would have a field day when Grace explains skin as a very sensitive and permeable organ with lots of stuff packed tight on the surface. Since goosebumps are very tactile, I thought Rocky would enjoy hearing those.

Also, bonus.

I explained very clearly to the manager my issue with the meat section not having the price tags listed, and they claimed it was only going to be for the meat, since meat is by weight, and the price of each item is printed on the packs of each item.

Sure. That’s how they get their foot in the door. Fast forward not even two weeks, and here we are:

Bar codes. No prices, no item descriptions. No price stickers on the individual items. Heck, not even the name of the item that is SUPPOSED to be there.

No. The only way to see the price is to scan it on your phone app, which is also recording what you looked at recently, as a way of gauging what you might be looking for in the future.

So here’s what we’re gonna do gang:

Every time you go into a store that has implemented these price-less tags:

Take 1-3 items up to the cash register. Ask the cashier for the price, or hit the price check item on the self checkout, which will likely call over the attendant.

Express that you didn’t actually want it, you just couldn’t see on the shelf how much it was.

POLITELY, AND WITH A THANK YOU FOR THE PRICE CONFIRMATION, Give the items to the cashier or attendant to put back.

When they inevitably try to push the app, politely decline. If pressed for why not, say you don’t want to have to carry your phone in-hand the whole time you are shopping in order to see how much things cost. (Not having cell service or data to use the app is NOT a valid excuse, as stores already often have complimentary WiFi AND more stores will provide WiFi rather than give up on this push for surveillance pricing)

If it’s a shelf-stable item, the cashier will have to set it aside, taking up room in their limited operating space, and eventually pass it off to someone to put in a holding area to put back later. If it’s a fridge/freezer item, it might have to get tossed due to food product sale regulations.

In either case, you are making it a pain in the ass for them to have these digital bar codes. Tie up the checkouts. Give the employees more busywork that the company has to pay them to do. Hurt their bottom line having to toss the pint of ice cream you carried around in your cart for 20 minutes before giving it back to the cashier.

the following events ensued:

1. predictable lively discussion on the preparation of Wienerschnitzel, in which natives and wurstaboos are pro-puff and everybody else is like *confused dog head tilt* why wouldn’t you want the crust to stay ~attached to the thing you put it on? as with other fried foods?

2. thirty “Bad Schnitzel is my band name” jokes

3. thirty “Bad Schnitzel is my stripper name” jokes

4. one “ah yes, Bad Schnitzel! a lovely spa town” joke

5. this absolute masterpiece: