Having been taken prisoner by a bounty-hunting pug, my new friend Orzo Wales and I have found ourselves on a long ride back to face the authorities from which we both, apparently, have escaped. I know why they want me; but what has Orzo Wales done to earn the ire of the Orzo Outlaws? Why are they so interested in a taciturn, desert-dwelling Man With No Name? Perhaps, on the journey through the wasteland, I will find out, and finally satisfy my anthropological curiosity. What happened here? And why, when whatever occurred obviously happened years or decades in the past, does the Man With No Name remain unforgiven?
The Outlaw Orzo Wales
Having been sent down to the planet of the Orzo Outlaws with an offering of rice, I have found myself in the palace of the planet’s Queen. Will my rice be accepted? Will they let me go? Will I ever find out what orzo actually is? Only time will tell …
The Basmati Blues
After narrowly escaping from the hangar of the Spud Star, leaving behind our entire crew, John McClane and I found ourselves caught up in the wake of the Rice Pirates as they engaged their warp drive to avoid destruction by a barrage of tater beams. Our own ship’s small engines proved unequal to the task of breaking us free from the warp-tow of the Rice Pirates’ ship; and so now we find ourselves lost, possibly halfway across the galaxy, surrounded by thieves and privateers. It’s almost enough to make me miss department meetings back at the university. Almost.
The Rice Pirates
Having spent the last several hours crawling through filthy ventilation systems with John McClane has finally paid off, as we have reached a vent that will give us access to the main hangar of the Spud Star, where our ship, the Orca, is sits unguarded. Darth Tater has deployed all of his Spudtroopers to the other decks, never considering that we might be planning to steal aboard our vessel and escape; he knows me too well to think I would ever abandon the rest of the crew, who are his prisoners. But he has not reckoned on John McClane, who considers our teammates hippies, and has no compunction about ruthlessly abandoning them to make our getaway. Little do we know that out there in the coldness of space, closer than we could imagine, there lurks a ship carrying men who are more desperate, hungry, and ruthless than John McClane, Tucker, and Darth Tater put together …
So the other day I was going to heat up some Uncle Ben’s 90-second rice (AKA “rice for people who don’t plan ahead”) to go with some frozen coconut shrimp from Trader Joe’s (AKA “dinner for people who don’t plan ahead”).