The meal I made actually came from Girry’s recipe book, and it was rather enjoyable. It’s a dish called Potsnail, and the main ingredient, as you no doubt have guessed, is tree meat. So, while two gentlemen are waiting for the roast to cook, how about I tell you the story of Girry and the meat planet?

  Exactly four years, twenty-two months, eighty weeks, one day, and two minutes ago. After Girry had finished paying off a fine for illegal urination on a microscopic city, he was back to investigating planets for his next ingredient.

  Weeks went past, and he found himself in a bar orbiting a dead planet. Well, that’s just what the planet says; it’s trying to avoid taxes. Anyway, having found nothing of interest, he thought the bar might be good for some food-related camping stories.

  Sitting in a corner booth wearing his uniform, Girry sat, nursing a drink while listening. It was a bit difficult for him to hear anything since the bar played what I can only describe as noise-pretending-to-be-music.

  But he sat regardless, listening to travelers talking, laughing, and shouting while smoking. Nothing useful was said, unfortunately, and just as a haze set in the building and his patience thinned, an odd two-legged individual wearing a pink trench coat approached him.

  “Heh, you cook?” he rasped.

  Scratching his chin, “Yeah, I do.”

  He looked around cautiously, leaned in close, and whispered, “Heh, I knows a place wiff good meat.”

  Girry copied him, “Oh, yeah? What place?”

  “Heh, a meat planet,” he winked.

  “A meat planet?” He glanced around for a moment. “Ok, I’ll bite. Where is it?”

  A loud shout and a crash caught their attention. One of the patrons, a big eight-legged biker, had just smashed another biker on the head with a table. Apparently, the now unconscious fellow had caused the eight-legged biker to spill his drink all over him.

  There was a loud applause followed by a series of grunts, hand-holding, and singing. The unconscious fellow was then thrown out of the building, and a round of drinks was ordered.

  Turning back to Girry, he whispered, “Heh, bikers. Ok, the planet is at 07yP-90; it called Titin.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Grinning, he sipped his drink. “Titin, hey. I’m gonna haveta go look.”

  “Heh, you owe me meal now!” he said, swaying with delight.

  Girry smirked, “My friend, if the ingredients there are good, ya can eat for free at my stall.”

  The strange individual got so happy that he got up, vibrated for a second, stopped dead, then abruptly spun round and skipped out of the building.

  Girry watched while scratching his head. He shrugged and decided to leave as well. Slamming down money on the bar, he caused a confused dust monster to have a mild heart attack, then he sauntered to his ship.

  Groaning, the ship reluctantly started, and Girry took off towards the sector. It wasn’t a very long journey to Titin, but it was long enough for him to admire a few of the planets, stars, and shopping malls as he whizzed past.

  One such planet, Fib, was known throughout the universe as the produce planet. With its massive size of exactly seven suns, it produces ninety percent of the universe’s vegetables. However, since the vast majority of the universe prefers meat, the planet is slowly going out of business.

  Still, Girry had many recipes that used a few vegetables, so he mentally made a note of the planet so he could visit.

  Leaving the planet behind, a shopping mall to his left caught his attention. But only because he had considered opening his stall there. Also, he liked the name Galaxy Oasis. It is the largest shopping mall in the universe, and it has everything you can dream of, including a Deep Dream VR that projects your innermost thoughts as a VR simulation. It caused some problems for couples.

  Making a few more mental notes, a few real notes, and a couple of computer notes, Girry shook his head and got to work writing out a new recipe during the rest of the ride—

  After a lengthy four-day travel time, he arrived at sector 07yP-90. From there, it took only about an hour or two to reach the red planet, Titin. As he neared it, Girry clearly saw the light red and pink landmasses surrounded by deep crimson oceans.

  Descending into the atmosphere, he landed on an open plain and did a few checks for oxygen, toxic gases, dangerous fauna, and other threats. After a very long sigh, the ship reported—

  “Oxygen-rich planet with no toxic gases detected.” It paused. “There are, however, a few dangerous species on the planet.” It exhaled. “The carnivorous Titin worms in particular are a very aggressive tree-like species… good luck.”

  Scratching his chin, “Is that all—”

  “No. There are no other threats detected. Also, please don’t interrupt me. Thank you,” she said and promptly switched herself off.

  Girry stared at the screen, frowned, grinned, and then stood up to stretch and prepare to disembark.