A FASHION TREND WE SHOULD DEPLORE
by Lady Fenella Fanshawe
Not many of you Fed II Star readers will have heard of me, since your grubby little paper usually covers matters pertaining to commerce and other vulgar subjects that I have no interest in. So let me introduce myself. I am Lady Fenella, fashion correspondent for the interplanetary magazine Riches. I'm sure you have heard of that, although I doubt you've ever actually read it, since it's aimed at the higher echelons of society - those that most definitely do not have to work for a living.
So why am I lowering myself to address you through the pages of the Star? Well, it has come to my notice that there is a fashion trend taking hold throughout the system that I feel just has to be stopped. Look around you - examine the outfits that the crowds that throng the streets are wearing - and what do you see?
Grey coveralls. Utilitarian, dull, with no trace of any indidualization, no little personal touches, nothing to distinguish one outfit from another.
People, this has to stop. It is an affront to the eyes of any fashion-conscious person such as myself. While I rarely rub shoulders with the common herd, as I am whisked through the crowds in my pink hover-limo, I do come in contact with members of the lower classes from time to time when carrying out my charitable works, and I find this sea of grey fabric wholly offensive.
I urge you all to throw away the conformity of this uniform, and change your clothes to something that displays your own individuality. Never mind what's fashionable right now - spots, stripes or paisley, I don't mind if you choose the most ghastly clothing imaginable, so long as it's not dull grey, boring grey, numbing grey.
Please. 'CHANGE CLOTHES description'. Do it for me, and for your own self-respect.
MARS CELEBRATES INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Arlene
Happy 4th from the Roof Garden at Chez Diesel on Mars, dears! Diesel's fabulous redeco of her bar brought an absolute plethora of who's who in Fed DataSpace. At one point, between firing rockets at the waitdroids and the "Pin-The-Tail-On-Preach" event which no one seems to recall but your venerable host, I counted 17 party-goers: Preach (with a rather sore bottom!), Asmir, Midnyte, Gregror, Bourbon, Ferreri, Squeeky, Devaberial, Elijah, Djentsch, Furgas, Elar, Sleeperagent, Robius, Arcen, Aeclark, and Maggie.
Sadly, it appeared that the delicious marsrat barbecue dish that Diesel's kitchen had prepared didn't agree with most of the party-goers - they were seen darting in and out all night long, blaming their disappearances on 'hauling.' I even saw Maggie using 'hauling' as an excuse for the time she spent trying to chop down the cherry tree that Diesel had installed in the bar. When confronted, in typical fashion, she took a hard long look at yours truly and said, "I cannot tell a lie. Elijah did it."
Once everyone had had their fill of fireworks and free drinks, we set about to reward the most creative of the who's who with two contests: most creative patriotic outfit & most creative patriotic drink (also known as Fabulous Frocks & Suds).
For the outfit contest, the patriotic who's who decked themselves out in sublime reds, whites, and blues. While their reds didn't turn out quite as nice as their blues, Midnyte, Aeclark, and Elijah were given honorable mention for some very nice outfits. But it was Arcen's particularly white impression of a certain former president that earned him the slithy tove!
For the drink contest, the waitdroids prepared extra portions of food to help us all wash down whatever concoctions were presented. Believe it or not, the marsrat actually tasted better than some of the drinks. Our darling Devaberial, sadly, couldn't enjoy the drinks this evening due to pain in his liver (or equivalent); but when the red, white, and blue fizz dissipated, even he didn't know who had won. Moriarty and Midnyte, with their deliciously beverages, took home honorable mentions. With our lovely excess of dead wait droids mounting in the corner, I gave both of them a complimentary wait droid! Don't tell Diesel, dears!
But wait! We had not one, but two winners. Indeed who could resist Preach's 'frothy mug, holding your favorite liquor. Inside the mug the drink glows and flashes red, white, and blue colors bubbling and twirling inside. Put into the top is an American flag with a picture of Selena of the Spaceways on top' or Gregror's 'glass filled with Real American Beer. There is a picture of the Wright Brothers and their first flight starts taking off out of the glass. An American flag starts waving after the plane.' Despite being smacked in the nose by that airplane, I was compelled to award them both slithy toves.
Looking very much like Sandra Day O'Connor, this is Arlene signing off from Chez Diesel on Mars! Ta, dears!
FED II EATERY REVIEW: ORRAN'S OX ROAST
by RTG1728
After the llama incident on Brass which I described two weeks ago, I decided it might be a good idea to stay on Earth until things blew over; there were a number of officials who were not quite convinced of my innocence.
As Level 7 is a good place to hide, despite its other dangers, and since I had business of a completely legitimate nature there anyway, I thought it might be an excellent idea to review Orran's Ox Roast, a popular little diner hidden away beneath the spaceport.
The main food served at Orran's is, as the name suggest, roast ox - but only in the loosest definition of that word. Apparently 'ox' may describe any large, unidentified, fragrant beast cooked by spaceship lasers - though the creature being served during my visit did have horns; I'm certain it wasn't a llama.
Despite the questionable origins of the main course, the locals seemed to be enjoying themselves. In fact, there were very few empty tables in the entire establishment. I hesitate to imagine what other foodstuffs are available in the area that would drive diners to such desperation.
Overall, Orran's is an exciting experience. The atmosphere is certainly unique, and the menu is always surprising. So take a chance! Risk the dangers of Level 7 and Orran's Ox Roast - I'm sure you'll not live to regret it!
A WILD TRIP
by Jessecka
Just a short walk from the Lounge is the Mini-Zoo, a rare collection of miniature animals that should wow and amaze even the most hardened space traveller. Djentsch and I went there this past week to check out some of the new attractions, and we had a wonderful time.
As we walked into the Zoo, we saw a vending machine that churns out food for you to feed the animals, but at a price. After purchasing large amounts of this fodder, which, I might add, you don't want to eat yourself - trust me on this one - I looked around for some lovely animals to feed. The first up was the giraffe, so cute and cuddly. A very well mannered animal, it was a pleasure to feed and pet. Next I went for the hippo. Although a joy to feed, the thing covered me in mud when I tried to pet it, making me stop long enough to change my bubbles before heading on to the next attraction. The panda was a very quiet animal, reserved and polite, as befits their species.
As I was caressing the panda, I felt a nudge from behind. When I turned, I saw the cutest little camel in the world. Standing about as high as a dog, he just looks so sweet. WRONG! When I went to pet and feed it, it slobbered all over my feet! Can we say gross? After that, I needed some time with an animal that would not slobber so much, so I headed over to the grizzle display.
Surrounded by mini-grizzles the color of the rainbow, I smiled as my cares faded away. These tiny cousins of the ferocious Grizzles on Mercury are adorable, furry, and sweet. They almost remind me of Necrose, that is, if he was adorable, furry and sweet. It is definitely worth a visit to the Zoo to see these small wonders and feel the love that they share. Almost makes you wonder if a big grizzle could be as loving.
Our last stop brought as to the elephant house. As I was being frisked by a hungry elephant, Djentsch was over arguing to the Zoo Keeper that he needed to let him ride the elephant, even though it clearly says that small children are the only ones allowed to ride. He claimed that his Inner Child should be allowed to ride. Sometimes, I can't take him anywhere! After feeding the elephant the last of the fodder I had stashed in my pockets, I begin to pet him, discovering that his skin was thicker than I expected.
On the whole, the trip to the Zoo was a wonderful experience, and well worth the effort it took for me to walk down the road from the Lounge to visit it. And I'm sure a lot of you are wondering, but no, the Zoo did not try and keep me when I left, although they did look at Djentsch a couple of times.
FED II EATERY REVIEW: MARIO'S
by RTG1728
As I have now written this restaurant review for a number of weeks, I thought that I finally might have managed to gain enough influence to dine in the exquisite atmosphere of Fortenzi's. I have, after all, ruined more than a few of the exclusive lunar establishments' competitors by exposing the failings of these lesser restaurants.
It turns out, however, that Fortenzi's is singularly unappreciative of my efforts, and has even less regard for my respectable standing in the Solar System. Like so many lunar tourists, the maitre d' showed me the exit. He also looked down his nose at me. The nerve!
In a fit of robotic rage I stormed down the street to Mario's, the bar where the Moon's powerful and elite gather to socialize and conduct business. This may not have been the best choice, as in my state of indignant anger I might foolishly have attempted to cause a scene. Mario discourages such behavior, and I have no wish to ever see the infamous backroom where trouble-makers are taken.
All in all Mario's was just what I needed. It is a quite place, and the customers keep to themselves. There is none of the rowdiness that one might find at such places as the Starship Cantina or the llama tent on Brass.
I saw no food being served, but drinks of all kinds were in evidence; Mario's stocks an extensive cellar of fine wines. I could not summon the courage to sample the grappa, though it seemed quite popular with the other customers. The name reminds me of the flu. I know that a droid is not susceptible to that sort of virus, but I would still prefer to not take any chances.
Overall, I found that although Mario's has something of a dubious reputation, if one behaves ones self it can be quite an enjoyable place to escape the grind of hauling, trading, factories, and combating snobbish maitre d's who think you're not good enough to eat in their fancy restaurant!
THROUGH THE SMOKE-FILLED HAZE
by Jessecka
Early in the Fed morning on Tuesday, shortly after game reset, a new type of CEO emerged, a Financer. As more and more of these new creatures logged in through out the day, we cheered, finally a new rank in test, and would soon be made public. Although the details of the rank are being held top secret, we all know that it will be very challenging with all the hard work Bella has put into it. We can only suspect what might happen at this rank, and of course, keep a watchful eye on those who are there already, and see if we can glean any information from their actions. To this end, I have done just that this week, and was very surprised, and a little nervous with some of the things I didn't discover.
A new room has been set up in the rear of the Lounge for the new Financers, since they like to discuss business, and we are not to be aware of their type of business. Slipping up through the shadows one day, and crouching behind the couch that Bourbon was sleeping on, I tried to get a closer look into that smoke filled room. Redone, wearing a land dark jacket, and a dark hat pulled down low over his eyes, was kicked back in a chair, and discussing something with Merrie, who was dressed all in white, keeping one hand on her blaster as she smiled. They were talking in low voices, and I couldn't quite hear what was being said, so I scooted closer, hoping to catch a sentence or two.
Just as I began to hear the words, and sentences started forming in my mind, Bourbon rolled over and starts snoring up a storm, causing the hugest racket I ever heard in the Lounge. Quick as lightening, all heads in the new Financer's room turned to the door. Redone hastily moved to the door, and with a mumbled apology about smoke entering the Lounge, he pushed it closed, shutting off with it my only hope of getting a good idea of what really goes on with Financer.
Plots and Intrigue. Smoke-filled back rooms. Sounds like fun fun fun!! I can't wait until the newest rank goes in so we can see for ourselves what merriment Bella has schemed up for us next. Also, I can't wait for Bourbon to roll back over and quit snoring!
PIZZA SHORTAGE
by Jessecka
All over Sol space you can hear the sounds of disgruntled Fedders as they search for their favorite slices of pizza. Following a recent trend set by fine eating establishments like the Cantina and Lucky Seven Saloon - lounges, bars and restaurants all over the Galaxy have begun to serve speciality dishes, trying to entice weary space travelers to partake of their goods. Some of these dishes can be quite tasty, like the ice cream to be found in the Cantina on Earth. Some of these dishes can be quite elegant like the croque monsieur on Magellan. And some of these dishes can be quite astonishing, like the squirming cephalopod at Godot's.
With all this new food across the galaxy, you would think that Fedders would be excited, dashing to new places to try new things. But if anything, the new dishes just serve to prove a point - we like pizza! Nice, warm, gooey, SAFE pizza. It seems that according to reports, most of us do not like change, and in fact want to savor the pizza of our yesterdays. Who wants to dine on select cheese morsels while in the Executive Washroom? A haunch off of a large dead animal in Orran's? Can we say ewwww?
One Fedder was overheard saying after ordering the Cephalopod at Godot's, "Ahhhh, it's alive! It's ALIVE!" Of course, this is just one reaction, and does not cover the different sentiments of Federation Space inhabitants. I saw one Rigellian (I'm not mentioning any names) with peanut butter on the corners of her mouth in Lucky Dog Seven. And personally, I like the chilli dogs on Venus, even if they do leave me feeling a little queasy when I'm done.
I did find that Diesel still serves those traditional moose pizzas in Chez on Mars. So, whether you fancy a French continental breakfast on Magellan, the spicy Buffalo Wings on Rhea, or the best ground Moose-meat pizzas in Sol, you can find it all somewhere in the Galaxy. Gee, now I think I need an antacid.
|
