“You know what’s good for adventures,” asked Rex Nihilo, apparently sensing an opportunity to make a sale. “Malarchian military grade plastic explosives. I’ve got a whole hovertruck load.”
“We don’t need any explosives,” said Uncle Blauwin.
The boy looked like he was going to cry. “First you won’t let me go into town to get energy fluxors and now you won’t let me have any military grade explosives. I hate you and this gosh-darned desert planet!”
Communication is about context, and comedy is about context, which means all communication is comedy. That, kids, is logic.
In this prequel to the sci-fi comedy Starship Grifters, if you’re familiar with a general sci-fi context, you’ll get the jokes–the more familiar, the more jokes. Mm, the smell of logic just gets you in the eye, doesn’t it?
A few years ago, I blogged on the second book in this series, Aye, Robot, and I found Out of the Soylent Planet to be a funnier story. The con man Rex Nihilo attempts to unload a truckload of plastic explosives, fails, rolls to plan B, fails, and then finds himself unloaded onto an isolated planet that’s locked down so tight even cans of creamed corn are contraband. The planet is mostly barren. Its civilization is built around producing an artificial nutritional substance called Slop. “It’s not food. It’s Slop!” Since readers would be thinking Slop is made from people, our heroes come across a corporate video that neatly explains that rumor away.
Rex and his robotic Girl Friday, SASHA, go through several silly romps and clever escapes. And explosions. Lots of explosions. Good fun.
I listened to the J.D. Ledford audiobook version, which added to the comedy with good timing and particular word emphases. I laughed aloud many times.
In his comic novel,