The Intergalactic Aerospace Expo was in town last month, so you know what that means; It was time for good ole Han Burgundy, your favorite T3 embedded reporter, to lift a press pass off a gentleman from the INN while he was on the shitter. This, of course, was so I could slip into the grand temple of ship-envy that is the IAE to bring you the hottest scoop on what’s really going down behind the scenes of your favorite manufacturers.
My first stop of the week was at the MISC hangar to check out all the wonderful new workhorses they had to offer. In addition to the 2947 models of their market staples like the Hull series and the ever-trusty Starfarer, MISC also unveiled their new small-op mining ship that was aptly dubbed The prospector. With this two-seater craft it has finally become more manageable than ever before to hammer away at space-rocks for beer money. My only issue with the Prospector at the moment is that there’s nowhere to put my glass of scotch while I’m drilling. (Which is a criticism that I’ve also harbored against EZ-Hab beds for ages.)
I tried expressing my concern of this gross oversight to one of the on-site MISC representatives, but apparently he was “Just there to hand out bracelets” and I was “making a scene”. On a related note: Why set up a demonstration booth for a mining laser if you’re just going to get upset the second someone starts drawing some beautifully depicted genitalia with it? Those barbarians over at MISC know how to make a damn good and reliable ship, but they are rubbish at appreciating fine art if you ask me.
Next, I made my way to the RSI hangar to try and sneak a quick luxurious crap in one of the Constellation Phoenixes that they had on display. I was determined to dump like the big-shots do, and let me tell you, friends; I’ve now seen the top of the mountain and have sat upon the throne of Valhalla. One cannot overstate the pure bliss of having your dangly bits lovingly caressed by the mighty Phoenix. The experience was so satisfying that it didn’t even wreck my mood when I discovered that the ship was only a display model without functional plumbing. The horrible sin that I left in that bathroom will tarnish my soul for all eternity.
After keeping my head low and slipping out of that wing of the Expo, trailed by the stench of shame and yesterday’s Big Benny’s, I decided to swing by the Drake exhibit to hang out with my fellow degenerates. What I found when I arrived was one hell of a party raging in the Caterpillar that they had set up on the show floor. I hit it off with one of their reps once I revealed my TEST origins and was promptly invited up the cargo lift to join in on the exclusive festivities above. Details beyond that point tend to get a little hazy, but I’m fairly sure that I scored myself an awesome deal on a dragonfly and I’m positive that I introduced a few of Drake’s lovely models to some new and exciting venereal diseases.
The next morning I found myself waking up in the botanical gardens of a private residence located three systems away from where the expo was being held. Needless to say, Drake throws quite the humdinger of a hootenanny. I decided not to return to the show for its closing day because I was certain that I’d be wanted for half a dozen felonies by that point, so I chose to do the sensible thing and grabbed a drink instead. Be sure to join me next year when I try raiding the liquor cabinet of that fancy 890 that Origin seems to be so proud of. Until then; You stay classy, Universe!