From the Logs of Captain Dave:

“Esteemed crew,” I began. “I have just received a very important piece of mail from the galactic web.”

“There are only three of us,” said Doc. “I don’t know if that counts as an esteemed crew.”

“I received a reminder that the Intragalactic CRAM conference is taking place soon in a nearby system.”

“Shouldn’t your intergalactic junk mail filter have picked that up?” asked Decker.

“My what?”

“Nevermind.”

“Anyway, I have a tremendous idea to present at the conference.”

I waited for a moment to let the suspense build. Then I had to wait for another moment because I forgot what my idea was. Then I remembered.

“I want it to be a part of the Company Regulations and Aphorisms Manual that the engineer of the ship is in charge of familiarizing himself with the Captain’s luggage.”

“That is an excellent idea Captain Dave,” said Doc in an appropriately obsequious tone. “If that had been a rule, Decker never would have strained his back trying to lift your trunk while we were in orbit around 5 New Yödelsburg.”

“Didn’t the trunk have a levitation function?” asked Decker.

“Yes, and you would have known that if this had been a regulation. Now you see why I need to go to the conference!”

“Very well Captain. Your belated attention to your crew is always appreciated,” said Doc. “I’m sure Decker is proud that his injury will help prevent further engineer-luggage related suffering.”

“Thank you Doc.” Doc always was there to support me on the tough decisions.

“So, what is our assignment while you attend the conference?”

“Oh, you’re coming with me, of course. It’s only a 17 day conference.”

Both Doc and Decker let out a series of low whimpers which sounded strangely like stifled screams.

It is often important for a captain to take the opinions and emotions of his crew into account before making a decision. I remember reading that somewhere, but it doesn’t really make any sense. Letting your crew contribute to a decision is uncaptainy, and I won’t stand for it.

Not only that, but I am often unsure about my crew’s true emotions. Take our visit to the CRAM conference. Sure, they did make a noise that sounded like the muffled wail of the Muskovian Nahr-Moose in childbirth, but that doesn’t mean they don’t want to go.

True, Decker did try to fake an epileptic seizure, but Doc cured him. I thought I heard him say something like ‘If I go, you go,’ as he stuffed Decker’s tongue back into his mouth and propped him up at his work station.

After all, who wouldn’t want to attend a 17 day conference on Company Regulations and Aphorisms?

We might even get to include Procedure.

I found out the conference was taking place on Smarmy VII , in the city of New New Super Smiley !. It was such a smarmy system that they wrote out the names of all of their planets and cities with smiley faces ! Staying there was going to be great !

I looked at some hotels on the galactic web. There were several available near the center of the city, not far from the convention center. Several of them had swimming pools in the shape of smiley faces, and one of them even had a Happy Hot Tub ! Still, I decided to continue my search. Perseverance often yields a good deal.

Aha! There was a hotel that was a full 3 credits cheaper per night. I clicked on the map. There was one dot showing the city with the conference, then a star not too far away showing the location of the hotel. There was no scale, but that was okay. I tried to zoom in, but the page wouldn’t load so I gave up.

I clicked on the page showing amenities, and it didn’t load either. I could only conclude that there were so many nice things at this hotel that it had clogged the page. What other explanation could there be?

I did see that the hotel offered a shuttle into New New Super Smiley ! I also noticed I couldn’t stop putting exclamation points after names of places in the Super Smarmy System ! I decided to show my captainly initiative and book it for our entire stay. That way, if we didn’t like it, we could leave after the convention was over when we weren’t staying any longer anyway.

I received my confirmation of our enrollment in the CRAM conference the next day. I was very excited. I couldn’t wait to present my brilliant addition to the woefully inadequate 432,002 page Company Regulations and Aphorisms Manual. Of course, no Regulations or Aphorisms were ever removed, so the wisdom just kept piling up, like laundry in an academy dorm.

I spent a few hours packing my trunk. I thought there might be a pool at the hotel, so I brought some scuba gear. I wasn’t sure what the weather would be, so I packed all of my clothes. I threw in my wallet and Bloated Alliance of Rich Planets membership card so I would be sure not to lose them. I had learned my lesson from the last time I loaded my trunk and I was determined not to make the same mistakes.

The trunk beeped at me as my wallet landed. I shrugged and turned away to get some more things to cram into the trunk.

When I turned around, the trunk was holding out my wallet to me with one of its many hidden grasping thingies. It beeped again, and I took my wallet.

Then I remembered. The last time I packed my wallet in the trunk, the trunk got lost. I guess I should take it with me this time.

The trunk beeped again. Reluctantly I took the BARP membership card as well.

“If I lose either of these it’s all your fault,” I said to the trunk. Of course, it didn’t respond, but there was some strange flickering in the lights on the computer display. That’s all right. I’m sure the trunk couldn’t understand what I was saying. After all, I only found out it had a levitation function a few episodes ago.

I returned from bravely packing my luggage just in time to allow the autopilot to skillfully land us in our assigned space in the capital city of New New Super Smiley ! We had a nice docking spot, only a few dozen kilometers from the convention center. I made sure everyone had their luggage, and we undisembarked from the ship.

Our first priority was to find our hotel so we could get situated and mentally prepare ourselves for the challenge of the conference tomorrow.

“Our first priority is to find our hotel so we can get situated and mentally prepare ourselves for the challenge of the conference tomorrow,” I said to my crew, which still only consisted of Doc and Decker.

“Where is our hotel?” asked Decker.

“Um, I have the name written down somewhere.”

“Did you load a map onto your PCW?”

“You can do that?” That’s why I kept Decker around. He was a real master of all these computer gizmos. I was captain because I have people skills.

Doc and Decker both began punching in data on their Personal Computer Widgets while I set off in search of a taxi. This was a popular landing spot, which meant that there would be a lot of people coming into the city who were unfamiliar with it and who needed transportation. This also guaranteed that there were no taxis there.

We set off down the street. The weather in NNSS was pleasantly warm, and I just discovered that if I abbreviate, I don’t have to use an exclamation point! Unfortunately, I got so excited by this I used one anyway. Still, it’s nice to know I don’t have to use an exclamation point every time I want to refer to the city of New New Super Smiley !

Oops. Except there.

Anyway, it wasn’t long before we found a taxi. The first one laughed and drove off when I showed him the name of our hotel. The second one laughed until he fell out of his taxi, got up, dusted himself off, and then drove off. The third guy looked blankly at the name of the hotel. I thought we might have a chance, but then he looked the location of the hotel up on his map console, pointed at us, called three of his buddies, laughed with them, hung up, laughed at us some more, and then drove off.

But the fourth cabbie agreed to take us as far as the Not-So-Smiley Desert ( . Apparently, frowny faces are expressed with just the bottom half because the entire image is too offensive to the people of the city.

We got into the cab. Decker was still typing furiously into his PCW. Doc was staring off into space and his ears were turning an odd shade of blue. I hoped he wasn’t catching a cold. I was boldly allowing the cab driver to navigate.

We arrived at the edge of the Not-So-Smiley Desert (. It was aptly named. There was not a reason to smile in sight. The desolate wasteland stretched out as far as the eye could see.

“Wait for the shuttle,” said the driver as he pocketed his money and hovered off.

“Decker, how long until the shuttle gets here?”

“I’m still looking. Every time I try to access certain information, it displays ‘Access to Non-Happy site denied’. I’m still trying to get around it.”

“The desert colors are pretty,” said Doc.

We did not have to wait long for the shuttle by galactic standards. The two hours we spent baking in the sun, and the hour and a half we spent riding across the interminable wasteland of the Not-So-Smiley desert (that’s right, I used the whole frowny face) was but the blink of an eye in the life of a planet, or the life cycle of a star. Still, had it not been for my leadership, I fear my crew would have become discouraged.

Finally we reached the hotel. I was very excited to jump in the pool, but first we had to pay 5 credits each for the shuttle.

It turned out that the pool I so eagerly awaited did not, in fact, exist. Or, more accurately, it existed, but at another hotel. The reason the amenities page would not load is because there were no amenities.

The hotel was so far away from the city that the distance was listed in fractions of a light year. It was surrounded on all sides by a stark and barren desert wasteland that could only be crossed by a specially constructed overland vehicle that appeared to have a top speed of 2.5 km per hour. The special rover left every 2 hours during the day, and it only cost 5 credits per person. The hotel didn’t even have a smiley face in its name. Still, it was the cheapest hotel available. We were saving 3 credits a night over the hotel in the city with a pool.

And, those 3 credits a night would certainly add up. To something.

We decided to get settled into our rooms. I got my own room because I was captain, and I called it.

We had to wake up early the next morning. The CRAM conference started at 7:00, and it would take us at least 2 hours to get there on the shuttle. I could barely sleep with the excitement of the approaching 17 day conference, but it took me a long time to wake up Doc and Decker. I’m sure they appreciated it in the end. After all, they wouldn’t have wanted to miss the first day of the conference.

The ride across the wasteland was enjoyable, if you’re the kind of person that enjoys hot bumpy rides through desolate wastelands. There are such people. There is even a PWEWR(habc) club: People Who Enjoy Wasteland Rides (hot and bumpy chapter). Doc told me.

We arrived at the city of NNSS (hah! No exclamation point there) with a few minutes to spare. We caught a taxi to the CAVE and got there with plenty of time. I heard Doc cough when he saw the building.

“Even their Conventions And Verbosity Emporium is shaped like a smiley face. I’m surprised people don’t go completely insane here.”

We would find out more about the mass insanity later, but for the time being, I was delighted to see that Doc was correct. The building was in the shape of a smiley face !

We entered through the main entrance, which I think was one of the eyes. There were many beings from across the galaxy filing into the convention center. The mass of beings slowly filtered into three distinct lines. At the end of each line was an official greeter of the city and planet.

The greeters were bursting with happiness. They were so happy you could smell it coming off of them. Decker started to gag, but Doc waved some smelling salts under his nose.

“I go, you go,” he whispered to him fiercely.

As each group entered, they were given a full force happiness introduction to the convention. Each being was handed a schedule of the day’s events.

No one was spared.

“I have a question,” Decker whispered to Doc. “Why can’t they just load the schedule onto our PCWs instead of handing us paper?”

“Not only that, but we’ve been in hearing range of the welcome announcement for the last twenty minutes. This is the seventh time I’ve heard that they are ’super happy to see us here at New New Super Smiley !’. Why can’t they just broadcast it once over a speaker, or at least say it to groups larger than three?”

We got to the front of the line. A girl with a smile large enough to almost engulf her ears welcomed us effusively and thoroughly.

“We are super happy to see you here at New New Super Smiley ! Welcome to the Intragalactic Convention And Networking center for the Company Regulations and Aphorisms Manual: Interplanetary Terminus!”

Indeed, the word ICANCRAMIT ! was written across each of the brochures.

“Decker,” Doc whispered. “Look at the corners of her mouth.”

“Hm. They’re not moving.”

“I don’t think she can move them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think she’s had surgery to make that smile permanent,” said Doc.

“Each of you will get a great brochure with the schedule for the CRAM events. We are super happy to see you here at New New Super Smiley !, and we hope you have a great time at this year’s ICANCRAMIT !”

The greeting really helped me feel at home. We each got a schedule and seat assignments. I bravely led the way into the CAVE.

There were three tiers of seating running in a large horseshoe, or maybe it was three large horseshoes, around the stage. Our seats were in the middle section. They were about halfway around the circle.

Several groups were already seated, and more were filing past the greeting stations. I saw the Anduthracian delegation and flipped them off. I don’t think they saw me.

Just for fun, I looked at the first day’s schedule.

700- Entrance and Greetings !
900- Opening Remarks !
1345-1359- Lunch (hope you brought something)
1400- Acknowledgement of Distinguished Guests !
1930- Closing Remarks !
2200- Summary of Convention Day 1 !

It looked like a good opening day. I was always very interested to hear speakers at these conventions.

“Did you guys get a look at the schedule?” I asked, wanting to involve my crew in the excitement.

“I’m having trouble accessing the galactic web again,” said Decker.

“Yeah, me too,” said Doc. “Are you still getting that ‘Access to Non-Happy site denied’ message?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s all right, guys,” I said encouragingly. “The convention will start soon, and then we will have more than enough to keep our minds occupied.”

Decker looked at me as if I had three heads. I glanced at my shoulders just to make sure.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” announced Doc. He didn’t come back for almost twenty minutes. I was worried he would miss the opening remarks, but he made it with fifteen minutes to spare. His ears did look a little blue, though. I hoped he wasn’t getting an infection.

The speaker finally arrived. He ran up onto the stage, and shouted, “Welcome to the Intragalactic Convention And Networking center for the Company Regulations And Aphorisms Manual: Interplanetary Terminus! Let’s hear everyone say, ‘ICANCRAMIT !’”

I don’t know how he put the smiley faces into his speech, but they were definitely there. The first hour or two was spent welcoming us to the convention. The audience applauded after ever two or three sentences. I always love when the crowd gets involved. It really adds energy and unneeded length to the speech.

About twenty minutes in, Decker whispered to Doc.

“Doc, you gotta help me. I can’t get onto any good sites on the web. I can’t take much more of this. Look, my hands are starting to tremble.”

Doc looked at him out of the corner of one blue streaked eye and said, “I go, you go.”

The day passed all too quickly as one wonderful speaker followed the next. We were all welcomed several times; the city, planet, system and galaxy were all thanked profusely; and no fewer than 197 people were individually congratulated at length. There was one incident somewhere between the Acknowledgement of Distinguished Guests ! and the first Closing Remarks ! where Decker did have a minor seizure.

Doc glared at him for several seconds. “I’m not buying it Decker.”

Decker answered by twitching some more. Doc leaned over to examine him. I shushed them. I didn’t want to miss the lengthy introduction being given to the Sub- Minister of Sewage and Waste Removal Sub-Contractors (SMSWRSC).

I heard Doc mutter something like “Hm, this one might be real,” as he reached into his pocket and stuffed something into Decker’s mouth.

A few minutes later Decker regained speech.

“Am I in the hospital?”

“Nope. Still here. I go, you go.”

“I couldn’t take it. I wasn’t faking this time.”

“I know.”

“I really got so bored I had a seizure. I didn’t know that could happen.”

“Me neither. And it’s just day one.”

Decker started twitching again and Doc had to hold his tongue until the sedative took effect and the tremors stopped.

Other than that, the day was great.

It was late when we left the convention, but I was energized by the first day’s proceedings. We walked past the second cheapest hotel on the web on the way to wait for our shuttle. It arrived after only an hour and a half. All the restaurants in the city were open, but I decided to go back to the hotel for a bite instead. Surely room service would still be open.

After an hour and a half ride through the desolate wasteland between us and our hotel we discovered that, in fact, there was no room service. If there was, they told us, it would be closed by now.

We actually arrived so late at the hotel that it was time to turn around and head back to the conference. After all, we didn’t want to be late. So, after a brief stop in our rooms for a change of clothes, we got back on the shuttle and began making our way towards the city of New New Super Smiley !

Sure, I was a little tired after a night of long bumpy shuttle rides with nothing to eat, but there were some donuts at the entrance to the convention. Unfortunately, there were not enough to go around, and we watched as the Graklav delegation made off with the last of them.

They also had some small rocks that turned out to be bread. I finished mine after only 37 minutes of chewing.

The second day of the conference was even better than the first. There were more introductions and congratulations, but sadly those finished around lunchtime. There was an even bigger break for the lunch that we didn’t bring. We did have a nice chance to watch every other delegation eat their lunch.

Doc thought he recognized some of his buddies in the Anduthracian delegation, and he managed to talk them into giving him some Gagh Blechch, which he shared with Decker. I refused to be tainted by their slimy food.

“Did you recognize any of your slimy friends from Anduthrace?” I asked.

“Sort of. Anduthracians aren’t really individuals. At least, they’re not an individual after they mingle with one another.”

“Huh?”

“Dave, we talked about this when I got back from Anduthrace. Anduthracians exchange pieces of their personalities when they mate.”

“Huh?”

“I figured one of them would have a fragment of someone I knew, and I remembered enough Anduthrace to have a conversation. It worked out, and this Gagh Blechch isn’t bad.”

“I don’t eat tentacles.”

“Suit yourself.”

We finally got to download the entire Company Regulations and Aphorisms Manual onto our Personal Computer Widgets. The file was so large it clogged all of our systems. It was also undeletable.

“How often do they update this thing?” asked Decker.

“There’s a conference every year.”

“No. I mean how often do they go through and take out old regulations?”

“What do you mean?”

“This manual still has rules about keel hauling!”

“Really? You mean I can still do that to people?”

Much of the day was spent reading the contents of the introduction of the CRAM to us. I always appreciate when presenters take the time to read aloud the pages they just handed us. The assumption that all of us are illiterate makes the conference go so much smoother.

Decker did break out into some interesting hives somewhere between the regulations on Aarchons and the Ababalaba Monster. His eyes swelled shut with really gross red and blue ridges and bumps. His tongue turned blue and green and swelled to fill his mouth. The only sound he could make was ‘Unnnhhh’ and when he did, drool came out, so I shushed him. I wanted to learn how to deal with an Ababalaba Monster, even though at the end of the section we found out it was extinct.

Doc went back to the Anduthracians and got some slime. He rubbed it on Decker’s hives and Decker stopped going ‘Unnnhhh’.

“The slime is their poop, you know,” I informed Doc.

“It’s harmless.”

“Why does Decker have hives?”

“He’s faking.”

“Oh.”

We caught an earlier shuttle back to the hotel and got 2 hours of sleep. We came back bright and early for day three.

“Doc. I don’t know if I can take it anymore. We’ve got to do something.”

“Don’t worry. I have an idea. We just have to make it to lunch.”

“What happens then?”

“You’ll see.”

Decker almost did make it to lunch. Still, midway through the six hour discussion of famous beings in history who have worked as a cook on a ship of some kind, Decker let out a cry of alarm.

“Doc, help, I can’t see!”

“Are your eyes open?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. That is a problem then.”

Doc moved to examine Decker’s eyes. The pupils did not respond to light, or to Doc’s fingers, even when he held up the middle one.

“Wow. Decker’s so bored he’s gone blind.”

“Is it permanent?” he asked.

“How the hell should I know? I had no idea you could get so bored that you could have a seizure.
Nor did I have any idea a conference could be so dull as to make you break out into a rash and make your eyes swell shut. So it should come as no surprise I had not the faintest idea that you could become so bored that you actually went blind. This is quite amazing!”

“Will I get better?”

“I imagine your sight will return when something interesting happens.”

“When will that be?”

“Just wait.”

At lunch, Doc led Decker away by the arm. I thought they might know of some accessible source of food, so I followed them.

In the lobby stood a pair of Anduthracians. I stepped back into the shadows. I knew I had to hold my tongue if I wanted to attend the next 14 days of the conference.

Doc stepped forward and slowly extended his middle finger to the Anduthracians. With his other hand he held a green piece of construction paper over his head. The Anduthracian stepped forward and extended his middle tentacle while also remaining green.

“Excuse me,” said one of the conference attendants who was trying to look angry around her surgically permanent smile, “but those gestures are not allowed here.”

“You,” said Doc to the Anduthracian, “are a slime-trailing consumer of slimy tentacles.”

Then, just for good measure, he translated it into Anduthracian. I found out later that the translation was something like ‘You are an Anduthracian’ since they do trail slime and eat tentacles. Still, it sounded really insulting.

The Anduthracian said, “Blaahhwhwhwaabagh!” which translated roughly as ‘You are a slimeless two-legged freak’. I don’t think it hurt Doc’s feelings too much.

“Stop immediately! Security, these two beings are guilty of insulting another sentient being, and at a CRAM conference no less!” The poor receptionist looked like she really wanted to look angry.

The security guards had smiled pasted on as well.

“You’ll get a day in Happiness Rehabilitation for that !”

“What’s Happiness Rehabilitation?” whispered Decker.

“It’s jail. Just wait. You’re up in a minute,” said Doc. He then turned to the receptionist.

“You, young lady, do not look like you are really smiling. Further, I believe you have been in a bad mood this week.”

The receptionist would have looked like she had been slapped if she didn’t have a smile sewn onto her face.

“That’s insulting a CRAM member. That’s another three days !” The security guy was trying to be fierce, but the smiley faces just kept creeping in. “Just keep talking, and you’ll keep getting Happiness Rehabilitation !”

“No problem. I happen to believe that your father was a malicious light-bending black hole.”

“That’s four more days !”

“And your mother too?”

“That’s it ! Just because all of my sentences have smiley faces in them, doesn’t mean we can just be insulted. You are obviously not happy. That comment about my mother earned you another six days.”

“So I’m up to 14 now?”

“Uh, let’s see. Yeah.”

“Perfect.” Doc turned to Decker. “Just step forward and say you agree with everything I just said.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me. I go, you go.”

“I agree with everything he just said. Especially the part about your mother,” said Decker loudly.

“All right ! You can spend the next two weeks in Happiness Rehabilitation as well !”

The Anduthracians slimed forward and said, “Gwoonnaghghallghagh!”

There was a delay of several minutes as the guard waited for his PCW to load the appropriate translation program. Finally he read the translation and the Anduthracians were led away behind Doc and Decker.

I was shocked. I needed to follow my crew to make sure they were okay, but at the same time it was almost time for the conference to start. I made it back to my seat just in time.

Doc and Decker’s Log:

“Hey, did you finish programming Dave’s luggage to write our logs for us?” asked Doc.

“Yeah. We shouldn’t have to write anything ourselves.”

“Good. I hope the new programming doesn’t cause any unforeseen consequences.”

“Don’t see how it could.”

Doc and Decker were led to a police car painted with smiley faces. The ride to HR was short and comfortable. They were served a delicious hot meal by quiet, non-smiling girls who neither asked their name nor wished them a nice day. They were led into their own rooms, which were a bland comfortable white. There they fell into a deep, long awaited sleep. Obviously the punishment of isolation from the happiness laden environment of New New Super Smiley ! was taking its toll.

They both woke up several hours later feeling refreshed.

“My sight is back,” said Decker.

“That’s good,” said Doc from the cell next door. “I figured it might come back once we got you out of the conference. These boredom related disorders are really interesting.”

“Not when they happen to you, believe me. So,” Decker continued, “we’re stuck here for fourteen days, huh.”

“Yep. It’s a harsh sentence, but fair.”

“That’s just about the time the conference gets out, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Gonna miss the whole thing.”

“How did you do that?”

“I looked up a list of violations of Smiley law with the Anduthracians. Their PCW’s used an Anduthracian code and were able to access non-happy sites. We found a set of violations that added up to fourteen days, and we put our plan into action.”

“Amazing. This is the best rescue I’ve had in quite some time.”

“Just wait. They’re going to punish us for two weeks with peace and quiet.”

“You’re my hero.”

Captain Dave’s Log:

I felt bad to be attending the conference while Doc and Decker were both languishing in the Smiley jail. Then again, they probably deserved it for the cruel things they said. Not only that, but I had a captainly duty to carry on at the conference. The mission to add another obscure regulation concerning the ship’s engineer and the captain’s luggage could not be compromised!

I was set to give my presentation on day 11. I thought that this was a very auspicious day, mostly because it was a 17 day conference. I have been scheduled on day 11 of a 10 day conference, and let me tell you, it comes as quite a shock when you show up that day and find out all your preparation was for nothing. I was 33 minutes into the speech before I realized why no one was applauding.

This time I was prepared. I had a short 73 minute speech prepared, and there was plenty of time to add more. I planned to detail Decker’s back injury and all of the subsequent difficulties we had on 5 New Yödelsburg. I’m sure my suggestion to require the engineer to familiarize himself with the captain’s luggage would be anonymously approved, which I think means that almost everybody will agree with it, but they won’t say who they are.

Each day of the conference was more exciting than the last. I felt bad for Doc and Decker.

Doc and Decker’s Log:

Doc and Decker got a chance to meet some of the other inmates. The encounters with the other prisoners were designed to show everyone how miserable they all were when they weren’t pretending to be ridiculously happy. Of course, Doc and Decker enjoyed them.

They saw an old man with a thick grey beard sitting by himself in a corner. He looked like he had been in the prison for a long time. Doc went over to talk to him. He dragged a reluctant Decker along behind him.

“Excuse me,” said Doc.

“Is there an excuse for you?” the old man replied, his eyes twinkling.

“Only an accident at the sperm bank.”

The old man nodded as if Doc had passed a test. “Sit.”

Doc sat down beside the old man.

“I want to know how all of this happiness came to be, and I think you might know,” he said.

“This is the third city called Super Smiley. Do you know where the first two cities are?”

“I assumed they were elsewhere on the planet.”

“You assumed, but you were wrong. There were two cities, called Super Smiley and New Super Smiley, built upon this very spot.”

“What happened to them?”

“The first city of Super Smiley was destroyed when a man named Horace P. Grumpus refused to have a nice day. A group of people followed him, determined to make him have a nice day. The group turned into a mob, and soon Grumpus was being pursued by half the city. He managed to escape, but the mob tore the city to the ground in their fanatical search. Fires were started, and the whole city was destroyed.

“The name of Grumpus was banned, and he was erased from the records. But the members of our group revered him and kept his memory alive.”

“What happened to him?”

“No one knows for sure, but legend has it that he escaped to a small moon where he lived out the rest of his days as a recluse writing complaint letters.

“The second city of Super Smiley, called New Super Smiley in accordance with one of the conferences for naming things, was also destroyed. It all began when someone was told they ‘had a case of the Mondays’. The first man snapped. Then, like dominoes, people began snapping all across the city. A huge riot erupted, with people attacking each other in the streets, destroying property and refusing to end their sentences with smiley faces ! A few of the more aggressive types even carved frowny faces into walls of buildings. This sent the happy citizens into a panic. The city once again burned to the ground.

“Of course, seeing that the first two cities had been destroyed by happiness-related violence, the city engineers decided to build a city that was not quite so happy. Unfortunately, they were discovered and beaten to death by the pro-happiness faction, and New New Super Smiley was born, complete with happy face!

“But all is not lost. The cycle again nears its completion. There is a being, our long lost founder, who gave us our mission.”

“Who is he?”

The old man looked around furtively, then lowered his voice. “No one knows for sure, perhaps it is only a legend, but all of us carry this image.”

The old man reached deep into his robes and pulled out a small picture of a furry green creature living in what appeared to be a trash can.

“What can we do to help?”

“The plans are already in motion.”

“How much time do we have?”

“The unhappiness begins. The CRAM conference will be destroyed on its last day.”

“Why the CRAM conference?”

“Haven’t you been there?”

“Good point.”

Captain Dave’s Log:

I went to the hotel for the last time. Since I had three seats in a row now that Doc and Decker were in prison, I figured it would be easier to not-sleep there than to not-sleep at the hotel.

I wanted to have my trunk with me, but I didn’t see any way that I could store it at the conference. I took several changes of clothes with me.

“I’m sorry, trunk, but I can’t take you with me right now. First, I don’t have any place to keep you at the conference, and second, I don’t really want to pay the luggage fee on the shuttle.”

The trunk blinked some red and blue lights.

“I know you can’t understand me, but I’m going to try to program you to meet me at the ship when the conference is over. If that doesn’t work, I will come find you. I think Decker has a way of tracking you through my Personal Computer Widget. We will be reunited soon.”

The trunk flashed its lights some more. I reached down to give it a hug. Then I tried to program a time and destination for it to travel to, but the menus were confusing and I’m not really sure what I told it to do.

I went to the front desk to use my captainly authority to demand part of my money back. The man at the desk glared at me fiercely as I approached, and I actually ended up paying them extra for the privilege of leaving the hotel early. I’m not sure exactly how this worked out.

No matter. I used the lengthy wait for the shuttle and ensuing ride to focus my attention on the conference, and on my presentation.

Doc and Decker’s Log:

“Well, this is a little strange,” said Decker.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve just received a travel alert from Dave’s trunk. It seems Dave has just programmed it to wander around in the desert for the next forty days.”

“That’s an odd series of instructions.”
“Do you think I should override?”

“Wait. Why do you get information from Dave’s trunk on your PCW?”

“Dave was making such a big deal about me not being familiar with his luggage that I actually did learn a little bit about it. It turns out it is far easier to transfer travel information to my PCW than it is to let Dave try to program the trunk.”

“That’s nice.”

“Anyway, should I send the trunk back to the ship, or let it wander around in the desert like Dave told it to?”

“As funny as that would be, we may have to make a quick escape. We better have the trunk in the ship because Dave might try to rescue it otherwise.”

“Good point. I will tell it to go to the ship as soon as possible and to be ready to go in case there’s a happiness riot.”

“Will it actually do anything with that information?”

“No. But I think there is an urgency setting of some kind and this will help activate it. Maybe. I don’t really remember.”

“Good enough.”

“It’s too bad we have to leave here in a few days.”

“Yeah. I think for my next vacation I might come here and punch someone. That ought to earn me a few nice weeks in here.”

Supplemental Luggage Log:

The trunk levitated and moved around the hotel room. Dave had forgotten his toothbrush, and Doc had left some socks. The trunk packed them. Oddly enough, the humorous idea of packing them next to each other did flicker among its computerized brain, but it dutifully packed them separately.

The trunk floated out the front door of the hotel. It checked the prices for both luggage and passengers on the shuttle, and decided it would be easier just to trek across the wasteland under its own power. It had grabbed a few credits from Dave’s wallet just in case, but it decided to save them.

Blinking reluctantly, the trunk set out across the wastelands towards the city of New New Super Smiley !

Captain Dave’s Log:

The day of my presentation was finally at hand. I was scheduled for the 2115 slot, so everyone was sure to be excited after a full day of conferencing. By this time we had split up into smaller groups. There were several groups concerned with Regulations, and several more who dealt with Aphorisms. Since I wanted my idea concerning Decker and my luggage to have the full force of a Regulation, I started in this group.

Anything approved by the smaller committees would go forward to be reviewed by a higher committee, and maybe another one or two above that. It came back down to be modified again in the original committee, then went up for review again. It was a very efficient system.

On the last two days, we got to vote on all the new Regulations and Aphorisms. The vote was decided primarily by who yelled the loudest, so pretty much everything got in. Still, I knew I had to give a powerful speech for my suggestion to get past the first committee.

The giant pufferfish-man raised his hand again. His name was Edmund Grazlebacht, and by ten in the morning I knew more about him than I knew about myself.

“On my ship, the Slovenly Slattern, we are already agreed that whoever goes out the airlock last should close it.”

10 minutes later.

“With my crew, we have never had a problem with the airlock. On my ship, the Slovenly Slattern, we always make sure it’s closed.”

22 minutes later.

“My cousin has a friend who knows someone who had a pet slitherfish that was injured in an airlock accident, so I think this is an important regulation to add.”

2 minutes later.

“The slitherfish actually died.”

By lunchtime we had heard at least one story about every one of Edmund’s relatives, and perhaps a dozen about his grandfather. I’m not sure if that was his grandfather on the human or the giant pufferfish side, but I’m sure he would tell us that too.

There was a mad scramble to vacate the area of Edmund at lunch. He ended up sitting next to a Kraglorian Rock Creature, who, alas, was not terribly quick on its feet. Edmund managed to finish a large lunch while talking the entire time. He did not realize at any point that the Kraglorian Rock Creature was, sadly, dead.

Doc and Decker’s Log:

Meanwhile Doc and Decker were meeting a variety of tourists and malcontents, who were often the very same person. They made some tentative plans to come back next year and all get thrown in jail for a few weeks. After all, the prison had shuffleboard.

The Luggage’s Supplemental Log:

The trunk struggled mightily across the vast wastes between it and its goal. It started to run low on power, so it consulted its own manual and realized it had the capability to run on solar power. After a few minutes the alterations were made, and it cruised across the desert at a much improved pace, and in, of course, a much better mood.

Captain Dave’s Log:

I looked at my watch. I saw circle of skin on my arm and remembered I had packed my watch in the trunk. I tried check the time on my PCW, but somehow that caused it to crash. I looked at the wrist of the multi-limbed being next to me, but its watch must have been on one of its other 18 extremities.

Anyway, the point I was going to make, if I ever found out what time it was, was that Edmund was slowing down the proceedings and endangering the time for my presentation!

The time for my presentation finally arrived, nearly an hour after it was supposed to start.

I confidently walked to the stage. My PCW had finally rebooted, and I even found where I had saved some of the notes for my speech. I would have to do the rest of it extempor-anusly, which I think has something to do with where you pull the speech from.

I gave a strong but brief account of the circumstances which caused me to suggest this regulation. 73 minutes later I opened the floor for comments.

There was a long debate on language. My version read: ‘The engineer must be intimately familiar with the Captain’s luggage.”

Someone suggested changing the ‘must’ to ‘has to’. This took about an hour to discuss.

Edmund made some comments about his engineer and his luggage.

We debated the meaning of the phrase ‘intimately familiar’. I ignored several lewd comments. We all know luggage doesn’t have that capacity. At least, mine doesn’t. I might have bought the wrong kind.

Edmund told a story about his great uncle’s friend losing his luggage.

We debated the meaning of luggage.

Finally we hammered out a resolution to send to the next committee. It read: “The engineer almost surely must be intimately, or at least reasonably, familiar with the Captain’s luggage, baggage, suitcase, backpack, rucksack, or trunk.”

We all left knowing we had accomplished something important. Well, everyone else left. I was stuck sleeping in my seat.

Doc and Dave’s Log:

There was a tension in the air of the prison as Doc and Decker went about the brutal and humiliating routine of eating, sleeping and lounging around all day. Doc asked for some air freshener, and that got rid of most of the tension.

“Should we try to leave early? The man did say the riot would start on the last day of the conference,” said Decker.

Doc thought about it for a few seconds. “I don’t think these anti-happiness guys are real early risers. They don’t strike me as the kind that roll out of bed bright and early with a smile. I don’t think the riots and destruction will start until about noon.”

“Yeah, but we have to get to the conference, get Dave and get back to the Delineator all before the city is destroyed.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t been in a good riot in quite some time. How about you?”

“Hm. I haven’t either. I suppose we can hang around and smash some smiley faces.”

That night, in a dark corner of the most feared prison of New New Super Smiley , an old man with a long grey beard made the secret signal of the frowny face to a man in a long dark cloak.

The revolution would begin at noon the next day.

The Luggage’s Non-Supplemental Desert Lovin’ Log:

Night fell in the wasteland and the trunk decided to stop for a while and conserve power. Scanning across a variety of obscure wavelengths, it detected a low box-shaped form approaching in the darkness. The box blinked at him with a variety of electromagnetic sequences, although it was mostly red and blue in the visible spectrum. No matter how many exciting wavelengths beings have access to, red and blue always seem to crop up.

The content of the message was roughly: ‘How’s it going?’

Dave’s trunk moved closer. The box shape became clearer. It was a very sleek travel case, complete with levitation function and a lot of different pockets. It was one of the newer models, and Dave’s trunk blinked in excitement.

It turns out that the second trunk was one of the newer versions that one really could be intimately familiar with. So it was that Dave’s trunk passed a very pleasant evening in the desert. It had a far better evening than Dave, and a reasonably better night than Doc and Decker. It resolved to load a Voice Recognition And Reproduction (VRAR) program when it got back to the Delineator just so it could tell the crew all about it.

Captain Dave’s Log:

The battles were raging all across the conference floors. I don’t mean actual physical battles, of course, because something like that could never happen in a place like New New Super Smiley , but instead the intense bureaucratic conflicts that characterized any great CRAM session.

The wording of my Regulation had been changed. My carefully chosen language was being altered, and I felt the strength of the Regulation slipping away. It now read: ‘The engineer probably should be, not quite reasonably, but no less than passingly, familiar with the Captain’s luggage, baggage, suitcase, backpack, rucksack, or trunk; this, however, does not include any smaller items the Captain may have, including, but not limited to: wallet, purse, overnight case or pocket protector.’

I took the stage to defend my idea.

“I can’t remember what the original resolution was, but I know it was way shorter than that. And why shouldn’t Decker have to familiarize himself with my purse? After all, backpack was listed as one of the items the engineer should know, and a purse and a backpack are not that different. What is the difference between a purse and a backpack?”

It was then that I remembered that I did not carry a purse. Oh, the complexities of the CRAM process! There were pitfalls at every turn.

Fortunately, an argument erupted on the difference between a purse and a backpack. We heard all about every purse worn by every female in Edmund’s family. We were moving closer to a clear definition, until someone from the back shouted, “What about a duffel bag?”

The definition collapsed. We were back to Square One, which I think is somewhere in the Geometroid System.

The last day of the CRAM conference was approaching. My Regulation was in danger, and it was up to me to save it. I’m sure there wouldn’t be any battles or revolutions to distract me, which was good, because I would have my hands full with the Regulation.

Supplement to the Supplemental Log of the Soon-to-be-Sentient-Due-to-Doc-and-Decker’s-Meddling Luggage:

The sleek and noble trunk arrived safely at the Delineator after a very pleasant stopover in the desert. The trunk knocked and the Delineator opened the door and let it in.

Doc and Decker’s Log:

Doc and Decker reluctantly prepared to leave the prison of New New Super Smiley ! They had slept in a little longer than they had intended, and the fatal hour of noon was drawing close. They looked around for the old man with the beard, but he was not to be found. They gathered their belongings and left.

They stepped out of the prison into a day like any other. Doc glanced at his watch. It was 11:45.

Captain Dave’s Log:

Back at the conference, the list of Regulations and Aphorisms that had been added to the CRAM were being read off one by one. The day would not end until all of the additions had been read aloud. An ancient regulation from the days of sailing ships (whatever those were) stated that a Regulation was not enforceable until it had been read aloud at the Convention.

We knew it would be a long day, and I resolved not to leave until I had heard my own resolution read. Of course, that was a fairly moot decision because everyone was locked in until the reading was finished.

Doc and Decker’s Log:

A few minutes after noon Doc pointed to a group of people gathered around the side of a building. The people appeared to be quite distressed. As Doc and Decker approached, the reason for their fear became apparent.

A giant frowny face had been painted onto the side of the building.

Chaos ensued. Well, more accurately, chaos began to ensue, because the whole riot thing took a while to really get going. It started with a few frowny faces on buildings and some mysterious miscreants running through the streets telling everyone to have a terrible day. Doc and Decker had been walking for a good half an hour before they saw anything that could be described as anything more than mild disorder.

An angry mob had finally formed and was moving through the city smashing things. One of the problems with disgruntled recluses as revolutionaries is that they have a tendency not to want to associate with other disgruntled recluses, and this limits their effectiveness.

The mob seemed to be moving in the direction of the CAVE, so Doc and Decker strolled along with it for a while. They didn’t feel it was quite right to destroy any property, but they did make a few obnoxious faces at some bystanders. Doc noticed that there were many people whose surgically attached smiley faces had torn free from their anchors on the side of their faces. The now mangled former smilers were marching along with the mob, screaming and breaking things. This mass insanity thing was starting to catch on.

The mob arrived at the CAVE, location of the CRAM conference, and stopped, waiting.
A dark cloud slid ominously into the sky, obscuring the sun.

On the cloud’s dark surface, a giant frowny face appeared. On this signal, the mob began its assault.

Captain Dave’s Log:

The speaker did not allow the sudden appearance of an angry mob outside the self-important halls of our conference to stop the proceedings. On the contrary, he began a 45 minute discussion of how this was actually the 37th time in its history that a CRAM conference had been attacked by an angry mob. Since the doors were already sealed and guarded to prevent us from leaving, there were also exceptionally well prepared to prevent others from entering.

The man then returned to reading the new Regulations and Aphorisms.

Doc and Decker’s Log:

“What should we do?” asked Decker. “Should we go in there and try to get Dave?”

“I don’t know if we can get in. Why don’t we just call him and tell him to leave by a back door and meet us?”

“I’ll send him a message. Hm. He says that he can’t leave yet because they’re not done reading the new Regulations yet, and his Regulation is coming up within the next few hours and now would be a terrible time to leave. Besides, they’re locked in.”

The mob raged and surged against the wall of the CAVE like an angry, frowning sea. They hacked and tore at the surface of the building with whatever they had at hand. Many of them used hand-held implements, like crowbars or bricks torn from other buildings. One smart guy brought a laser drill, and that seemed to be working a lot better than the rocks, bricks, fingernails and occasional wet paper sack. Some people were very new at the whole-city-destroying riot.

Captain Dave’s Log:

Inside, the tension was growing. We all knew that Regulations not read aloud could not be included as formal regulations and would therefore not carry the full power of suggestion that the CRAM possessed.

The walls of the CAVE groaned and the roof trembled under the onslaught of the anti-happiness forces. Every entity inside strained to hear the new Regulations above the din. The speaker read them with great urgency, trying desperately to finish all of the 2187 critical new entries.

A cry sounded from the back of the convention. The mob had broken through the wall!

Security forces and several Kraglorian Rock Creatures rushed to fill the breach. Well, actually, the security guys rushed smiling to the battle, and the Rock Creatures sort of ambled. Rock Creatures do not move very quickly. In fact, it wasn’t really clear whether they were going anywhere at all, or just rumbling a lot.

I returned my attention to the podium. There were only two Regulations to be read before mine. The wall would have to hold for a few more seconds!

“Maybe we should go in now.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Captain Dave’s Log:

Everything happened at once, or at least as close as is relativistically permitted. The mob broke through the defenses and began swarming through the CAVE like, well, an angry mob. The being at the podium said, “Regulation 729, sponsored by Captain Dave Dombrowski of the Delineator: ”

At that moment I was grabbed around the shoulders. Two men started pulling me from the CAVE.

“NO!” I screamed, and struggled to hear the next words of the speaker.

“Maybe the engineer should keep an eye on the captain’s luggage.”

That was it! That was my Regulation! I had accomplished a great task that would be forever preserved in history along with the 434,189 other terribly important regulations of the CRAM.
I let myself go limp as my assailants dragged me away. I knew I could die having completed my mission.

I was awakened from my reverie by a familiar voice.

“Dave, stand up. We are here to rescue you, but we’re not going to carry you.”

I turned my head in astonishment. It was Doc and Decker! I was saved.

Mostly Captain Dave’s (including Doc and Decker but not the Luggage’s) Log:

We ran out of the Conventions And Verbosity Emporium as the mob began to tear it apart. I was shocked to see many of the beings who had attended the convention for so many days actually turn on their hosts and join the mob. It was terrible what some people will do.

The scene on the street was one of violence and devastation. Buildings were on fire, vehicles were overturned in the streets, and people were frowning everywhere.

I quickly analyzed the situation and made a decision.

“We need to get out of here,” I said with my full captainy authority.

I noticed Doc and Decker were a few steps ahead of me, so I hurried to keep up. We ducked and dodged our way through the streets towards the parking lot where I had let the autopilot park the ship when we arrived on the planet.

A flaming building collapsed across the road in front of us, blocking our path back to the Delineator. We circled around, trying to find a way through the smoke and debris.

“I don’t think we can make it through,” said Decker. “There is too much destruction.”

“Decker’s right. The fires are spreading. I think it’s time to get out of the city before something big blows up,” said Doc.

Almost on cue, a huge geyser of flame erupted from a few blocks over. We were knocked to the ground by the force of the explosion. We could feel the heat wash over our faces.

“Okay,” I said. “Time to go before we all die.”

We turned and fled toward the Not-So-Smiley Desert . The flames surged toward the parking lot, where it was welcomed by a series of really pretty explosions as the flames reached the ships and combined with whatever exotic fuels they carried on board.

I was enjoying the show when I realized that I had parked the Delineator over there. There was no way it could have survived the explosions that rocked the parking lot.

I fell to my knees at the realization that my ship was gone.

“You guys go on without me. I should have gone down with my ship. I cannot continue with this disgrace.”

Decker and Doc shrugged and continued moving to safety.

Their powerful example inspired me. They were right. This was not the time to wallow in self pity. After all, I had authored a Regulation in the CRAM manual. How many other beings could claim that honor? Only 434,188, and some of those were probably written by the same being.

I rose to my feet and followed Doc and Decker as they fled the now dying city.

We reached the edge of the desert. Behind us, the city of New New Super Smiley ! was in its death throes, and before us was a stark and barren wasteland and a really crappy hotel.

“Well, guys, I think we might be finished.”

“Not yet. We can still be rescued,” said Decker.

Silently, Doc pointed back towards the city. A deranged mob of both smiley and frowny former citizens was engaged in a violent struggle, and would overtake us in a matter of minutes.

We ran into the wastelands until we were exhausted. After a while we had distanced ourselves from the mob, but we had no energy to go further. We all sank to the ground, knowing we had escaped a fiery death in the city only to face a boring and listless one in the wastelands.

“That’s interesting,” said Decker, as he examined his PCW.

“What’s that?” asked Doc.

“Well, I just got a travel update from Dave’s trunk.”

“What’s it say?”

“It wants to know our location.”

“My noble trunk is coming to share our fate!” I shouted. I knew the extra money for the Sense of Duty program had been worth it. Now I could face my doom with my wallet and a clean pair of pants.

“Well, transmit our data. Maybe if the trunk shows up we can use it to shelter ourselves for a few days and signal for a rescue vessel,” said Doc.

“Okay.”

“Where is the trunk, anyway?”

“It says it’s aboard the Delineator.”

No sooner were the words out of Decker’s mouth than the lithe shadow of a passing ship fell over our sun baked faces.

“Look!” I shouted unnecessarily.

The Delineator landed gently in the desert directly in front of us. Just for dramatic effect, the mob reappeared on the dune behind us and started to rush towards us with deranged ferocity.

“Quickly, onto the ship!” I said, again unnecessarily.

We rushed aboard the Delineator. As soon as the airlock was closed, we lifted off the ground and into the relative safety of space.

We all entered the cockpit in a state of confusion. The captain’s chair had been thrown rudely aside, and at the control panel was none other than my trunk.

We had been rescued by my luggage.

“I didn’t know you could fly a spaceship,” I said to my trunk.
“It has autopilot.”

“You can talk, too?”

“I loaded a VRAR program while I was waiting.”

I was stunned. Decker immediately began working on something relating to sentient luggage. Doc sat down in his chair and started a video game.

“Well, it looks like you guys can handle it from here,” said my trunk. “I’m going to go unpack myself and take a nap. Oh, and by the way, my name is Egbert.”