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All credit, of course, to the genius creator.

Story Title.

"So, anyway," quoth the slithy Bringe, "Everything was on fire, except the oven, so we hid in there until the ship was done crashing into the planet."

Once again, the Bringe was exaggerating at length to an intoxicated audience of space slugs and derelicts in Goe's Space Tavern. This time, he was recounting the time the Good Millennium Blump bloopered into the atmosphere of Boogoo 9.

The much traveled Bringe had stowed away on everything from freighters to race ships, and being locked up in solitude for vast amounts of time bottled everything up inside, and like a fizzy drink, his thoughts exploded all over innocent bystanders as soon as he had a chance to open up.

The actual events as they occurred, became all mixed up and amplified inside his pink little brain, and so the adventures became colored by his imagination to the point where they appeared impossibly unlikely, though hugely entertaining.

As a result, he commanded large audiences of enthralled space refuse in various hotspots across the galaxy with his outrageous tales of adventure and derring do.

This particular story was one of his favorites, he had read it off the back of a cereal box packed in a crate, and memorized it over the several years it took to travel the length of Perseus 6.5.

Judicious application of spirits prompted the appropriate embellishments, and soon, the entire Tavern was hanging on his every word.