The Jolly Smugglers / TJS

The first details of these so called ‘jolly smugglers’ somewhere around a planet called ‘Twatooine’ in a place a long time a go and a galaxy really far away, their messiah ‘Chan Solo’, began the tradition of space smuggling. Sadly as the kind of men relapsed into a heavy depression of ignorance, the expertises of space travel was lost. However as human kind gradually began the second Renaissance and recovered their prior knowledge, a wave of space smugglers came forth from the darkness, to lead smuggling into space, underneath the veil of being honourable soap merchants. The UEE however crushed the jolly smugglers, but, a witty, handsome band of young English men, stepped forth to regain the past glories of the Jolly Smugglers.

On a dark day, in a dark month, in a dark street, in a dark alley, inside a well lit pub, a drunk hooligan by the name of Rafael sipped upon a delicious strawberry milkshake; ‘mmm, this milkshake is good, if only my life was as good’. Then, out of nowhere a large aggressive man attacked and killed the barmen, taking all his money. Rafael paused for thought, ‘damn, that guy made a lot of money ruining lives, I wanna do that too!’. So off he went with a smug look on his face, and he purchased a gleaming Origin 300i, ‘now i’m gonna sell illegal stuff and make money from ruining lives too, I just need a couple of heartless buddies to do it with’. Struggling with the thought of making friends, Rafael simply joined a group of equally heartless, yet rather ugly idiots, namely, The Jolly Smugglers.

One day, Hazza C sat at home, sipping a warm (yet, weirdly green) cocktail. Then his wife came in and ruined his day. ‘Blah blah blah blah blah’, she was just so annoying, the sex isn’t even good anymore, and with that thought in mind, he stood up, held her firmly, and headbutted her square in the face. She fell back out the window. And died. ‘Sh*t’ thought Hazza. He dashed downstairs to check his wife’s body, he grabbed her wallet and ran. Upon finally reaching a nice ship dealership, he purchased a Hornet FC7, and with a smug look on his face; he flew away. Days went by, and his collection of lads mags became increasingly tiresome, ‘I need some cash, i’m gonna write and sell an awesome book!’ Sadly, Hazza C hated literature and gave up nearly immediately, simply joining a group of equally ugly and desperate young males; namely The Jolly Smugglers.

‘Yes, I finally did it’ thought Defibulator, I finally achieved my joint degree of Swag studies and Banter.With that thought in mind, he headed down to his local club ‘The Horny Huntsmen’. The music thumped, the people jumped and the arseholes bumped. ‘Sh*t this is good’ thought Defibulator ‘LETS GET MESSED UP’, he bent down and took a large handful of a suspicious white powder, up his nose he snorted, it burned but it felt good it felt so good, then, it all went black. Defibulator woke up, it was dark, a pale glimmer of light crawled through the curtains and he felt a suspicious warmth next too him. He turned round, it was Slutty Sally! Sh*t thought Defibulator, I cant let this get around the campus! With that thought in mind he picked up and beat slutty sally down with a suspiciously hard cucumber. Blood stained the floor, thers no future for me here, with that he picked up Slutty Sallys keys and got in her Slut mobile, a pink Origin 300i. He flew for many days, the supply of amusing lubrication began to wear thin, ‘I cant eat lube forever’ thought Defibulator, ‘time to get a job’. Somewhat surprisingly there were no jobs available for someone of The Defibulators talents. Desperate for work, he joined a group of useless, underpaying scum, namely, The Jolly Smugglers.