HiJack

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It’sJanuary 2013, the techno music is over and so is mankind. Sailingthrough a cosmic space now full of myriads of former Earth ashes, LordBangzorg, the captain-DJ of a klingonian spaceship which is in fact amassive entertainment club for his race, is quite sad and angry even ifthe lines on his forehead make him always look angry. He’s in themiddle of compiling a mix for the next party on the ship when everybodyshould go nuts because it’s President Kling’s Birthday but, oh k-boy,his mind is so distracted, all his thoughts are going straight to theprison cell where the last human female, Tracy, is chained. Yes, folks,he’s in love with that alien and, fuck President’s Day, Bangzorg wantsto impress her with his mix which will be transmitted through all spacespeakers even in the prison cells. But all he knows is the traditionalKlingonian club music which is mainly a succession of sounds like“bzrg”, “frgz”, “stgrz” and even “zgrg”. Suddenly, a glimpse of hopeappears in his eyes: an unknown furry animal with incredibly long earswas stolen from the Earth before its implosion and now he’s trapped inthe science lab on the ship; attached to his neck, there is a roundmagnetic thingy which, as their scientists say, is a record of annoyinghuman music sounds. Bangzorg runs to the lab and find the curiouscreature on a cage, he’s standing with a paw right over that record andlooks straight to the klingonian. Bangzorg says “Please” but it soundedmore like “Plzr”. Bangzorg says “Please” and now it sounds better. Thefurry animal finally lets it go and the klingonian takes the record onwhich he reads struck by a lightning bolt: “Mixtape for Tracy”. Helooks to the animal and sees a smile. That’s how the mix sounded:

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