“Captain’s log, Stardate 2278—”
“Ahem, Captain, that’s. . .still the earth’s measurement. . .”
“Huh? What? . . .Well maybe if you’d let me finish, number three. Now I have to start all over again.” The Captain smacked his ‘number three’ upside the head.
The Captain readied his recording device again. “Captain’s log, Stardate 2278.64. We’ve apparently landed in an alternate Earth where there’s hardly any humans remaining, and most of the world has fallen subject to nuclear warfare some time ago.”
A yellow tinted, stiff man knelt down and recorded samples of the soil. “By my calculations, around two hundred years ago, sir.”
“Hmm. . .I see.” The Captain surveyed the land and saw a sign in red prominent letters: Beware! The Wasteland Bear God watches you! “Interesting. There seems to be some sort of creature revered as a god amongst men.”
A guttural growl was heard from behind them, “That. . .would be me.” The Mighty Wasteland Bear God erected and looked over the foreign intruders one by one.
“I have encountered who the indigenous civilization regard as The Wasteland Bear God. He is as the legends revere, and then some.” The Captain spoke calmly and profound with his ‘discovery’.
The Bear God sighed, “Are we really going to go through with this?” He grunted in disgust. “I mean, c’mon. . .first aliens, and now this? Can’t you do anything creative? Do you really think people give a damn about me, let alone my story, or that of anyone else you throw in?”
“I beg your pardon?! I am, by all accounts, original. . .you filthy cur!” Snapped the Captain.
“Not you, buddy, I’m talking to someone else. . .and they know damn well what I am talking about.” Remarked The Bear God.
“Look, how about you run with it? We need better ratings, more viewers, and all that jazz,” said an ominous voice aloud, sending the foreign crew to shudder in fear.
“Who the hell is that?!” Said the space captain.
“It’s just The Maker, don’t worry about that cunt. Really though, you should just leave. There’s enough shit going on here as it is,” said The Bear God.
“We’re merely here to observe this planet. It differs from our timeline by a great deal. . .and plus we’re a little stranded,” said the Captain.
“I see. Well, I guess that’s OK, but if you get in the way. . .” Sin snarled.
“Rest assured, sir, you’ll hardly even notice us here.” The space captain promised.
“Right. . .whatever,” said The Bear God
Along their way, Sin took note of a base of Super Mutants and Synths coexisting. . .or having a deal. Something. Rubricon, Ben, and The Mighty Bear God moved in to investigate.
“Slowly and quietly, we are going to the base where baddies are holding up,” whispered the space captain.
“Captain, I am picking up abnormal readings from the area. It’d be best to avoid the area and observe from afar,” said his yellow skinned crewmate.
“I am readying my phasers to stun, sir,” said the Captain’s Head of Security.
“Dammit, Tim! I am a doctor, not a fighter,” stated the Doctor.
“Quiet. . .all. . .of you. Let the Captain. . .decide what we. . .should. . .do.” Stated his ‘number two’.
Sin facepalmed hard. “How about you guys stay the hell back, and let the professionals take care of this? OK?”
“Very well, I shall leave you. . .to this mess,” said the Tim, the space captain.
The space crew set off for a more suiting hiding location.
“I seriously can’t stand the new guys. . .” The Bear God stated.
“Right? They think that with all that technological whiz biz they’re better than us? Ha! We’d crush them like ants,” said Rubricon.
“Can’t we just kill them off? Something?” Ben whined.
“No. . .no, Ben. . .we’ll just let them do their own thing. . .plus The Maker wants to promote it. . .or something. Fucking idiot.”
“I heard that!” said The Maker.
Of course, The Maker not realizing that his voice is so booming. . .alerted the baddies that were hold up in their base. . .because he’s smart like that.
“Way. To. Fucking. Go.” sighed Sin.
“Time to go in guns blazing?” Rubricon motioned.
“Why not.” Sin Sighed. “Ben, roll out!”
Ben tucked himself into a tight wrecking ball and set off to throw himself into the fray. “TODAY’S A GOOD DAY TO DIE,” he yelled.
“Captain’s log, Stardate 2278—”