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        “So you’re telling me that Neo and John Wick are the same guy, and that guy is just pretending to be a bad ass?”  Primo Degeno asked, which in Imma Degen means I crapped my pants again, can you ask my secretary to bring me the report on my scrotum?”  However, this time Primo Degeno was using one of Earth’s many languages to communicate. 
Let’s take a bit of a step back here. So how did Primo Degeno suddenly learn how to speak in one of the planet’s native languages? Well, it all started once they left the ship… It was madness. Primo Degeno hadn’t seen a party this wild since his last trip to Fomoria. There were people running around. There were vehicles surrounding the crash site, with cool flashing lights and some seriously high-pitched dance beats. It was then that Primo noticed something; he understood every phrase that was shouted from the crowd.

        “It’s game over, man!”

        “There’s no crying in baseball!”

        “You can’t handle the truth!”

        “I see dead peopl

Spending a lifetime watch the dopest shows in the galaxy had taught him how to communicate in with the beings of this new planet. With his newfound realization that he could communicate with the inhabitants of Earth, he now knew this was his moment to address them. He held a single hand in the air to get their attention. The crowd fell eerily quiet as they stared back at him. Even the somewhat whiny dance music fell silent.

        “I’m the king of the world!”

a random voice in the crowd uttered.

        “Say what again! Say what again! I dare you! I double dare you, mother fucker!”  Primo replied, excited to be communicating so easily with the population. The djs in blue running the sound machines pulled weapons from their holsters and pointed them toward Primo. He had to think fast.

        “I remember the Alamo.”

The crowd erupted in applause. After a few weeks of practice, the Imma Degen were able to work on using the languages in a way that was more conversational and less like that guy who always quotes movies every chance he gets. Which brings us back to where we began…

        “Yeah, boss,”  replied the Imma Degen, sporting his balaclava. “However, I have to say, he was a really nice guy.”

        “Totally nice,” 
another said, partially muffled through his face mask.

        “I’d do him,”  said the naked guy with the translucent skin. Everyone stared at him for a moment then went back to the conversation.

        “So what you’re saying is...”  Primo trailed off.

        “Yep. We are totally fucked.”

        “Proper fucked.”

       “With a Hodlite chainsword,” 
whispered the naked guy as if the thought was appealing to him. The others stared at him once again.

        The door to the bridge opened as another Imma Degen came running in, wearing nothing but a skimpy bathrobe. He bent over wheezing and out of breath.

        “We’re all going to die! This is fucking bad!”  he wheezed, pointing at the monitor.

        They were here. The WynLambo had arrived, and the were marching toward the ship in the most adorable way imaginable.

        “Well, light em up, boys,” 
Primo Degeno stated. Everyone within earshot began pulling out their joints and firing them up.

        “I was talking about the WynLambo, fire the weapons at them. Well, shit, since we are at it.” Primo lit up a spliff of his own.

        “Uh, boss, do we have weapons to fire at them?”

        Primo thought for a moment.

 “How the fuck should I know?”

        They all sighed and looked around at one another.

“Well I just want to say it’s been really nice knowing all of ya and…”  Primo Degeno began.

        The sound of something familiar clearing its throat echoed from the shadows toward the back of the ship. Everyone turned to face the noise. A silhouetted figure stepped out of the shadows, wearing a cloak.

 “Come with me if you want to live.”

         The look in Primo’s eyes was unmistakable. They were definitely probably maybe not but certainly possible, gonna make it.

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