|(WARNING: following text may not be suitable for younger people)|
Why was it so hard being so fabulous?
Maggie stretched her legs out in front of her, pulled her arms above her head and sighed, contemplating how gorgeous she was.
Well, even Pierre would be attractive when compared to the hovel of her cabin, but it was okay, she'd decorate it with her treasures and then it would be as sparkling and fantastic as she was.
It was hard being the only woman on a ship of men. No one understood how things had to look nice. All they did was grunt, polish their guns, then polish their other guns. Filthy buggers, they could at least be discrete about it.
She hated how when people saw her out of her stilts they just assumed she was the ships whore. Not that she wasn't sexy enough to be a whore, but it was obvious that Pierre was the ships bitch. Goblins, disgusting as they were, knew how to use their tongues. As long as the teeth were kept out of the way.
She sniffied, and turned a page in her book. Anti gravity technology just wasn't what it used to be, and the author was a moron. Oh well, she could use the book to throw at Joe. Hopefully it would set off something unstable and he'd set on fire again.
The putrid smell of burnt fish wafted through the vent under her sagging bed.
Well, dinner time.