Tweed's Log: MOABDATE13518

Solar flareups have caused some personality aberrations in the crew of late.

The usually agreeable Amos snaps at the slightest provocation. He's noticeably edgy and has shaved off his eyebrows for reasons known only to him. He refuses to give any explanation.   

Rapaire has transmogridated into a smarmy, yet oddly polite republican! and insists on having four forks of various sizes at mess.

Chief Engineer Bee Dubya, neglects his beloved accordion studies, preferring to conduct impromptu spelling bees instead. He has taken up hamster breeding and keeps two or three hidden in his beard, which only serve to unnerve the contestants, as they sometimes crawl up to the exercise wheel that their master has fashioned into a sort of headgear. It is especially hard on Rapaire during meals and the poor fellow can be heard all over the main deck. "TAKE IT OFF!! FOR CHRIST'S SAKES, WE'RE EATING DINNER HERE!!" and Beezer calmly sups his soup with hamsters spinning merrily away, completely oblivious to the forks. squeek...squeeeek......squeeeeeeek....

And this battered vessel called MOAB ambles onward into the great unknown, leaving only the scent of Tang, Ho-Ho's and a hint of mildew in her wake. The GreatBlack Hole, hitherto uncharted and known only as X-14K looms like a mountain range in the distance.

What new adventures await the crew of the Ark? Gold and riches beyond their wildest dreams....Or something a little more sinister?

BuWahahahah..kaff kaff......ack phhttt!