Space Doubt: New-England

Heroes of leviathan, bad-calculators of Empire, a scientist of view, and a future millennium Blue Planet mark this adventure for the 'wish' cleats.

A space-adventure comics vignette, inspired by Flash Gordon (space-adventure!) media. Thanks for reading, 

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The space adventures continued well into a very distantly future millennium, but Earth was now re-inhabited, having its destroyed eco-systems restored with special inventions in biophysics created by the dart-brained Dr. Thorn who'd found a special recruitment arm to draw in special spade-adventurer warriors, hired to create defense perimeters around this once-more fare-rich organic-rich and diamond-producing Earth of ours (wow!).

MR. AMLAN SATAN: Happy to be one of your recruitment-faces (Selfie-age memory).

DOCTOR THORN: You're an excellent laser-gun marksman; we need orbit-securities.

MR. AMLAN SATAN: I'll position some fortress spy-window on the Earth-moon, doc.

DOCTOR THORN: Selfie-like (ok!).

For all 'globalism' rhetoric for defenses and optimism IQ/image, there maybe forces of darkness and adversarial 'handshakes' of the Ego, friends. This came in the form of a horrid Emperor who'd hidden for timeless ages beneath the surface of Mars, a being in metal-face of gold named Endymion, who boast at his side of oppression, a head-dress wearing 'doll-like' siren named Medusa (damn). They sought a new Empire for Earth-subjugation, requiring our fearless 'quarterback' of Earth defense-recruitment eye, Mr. Amlan Satan, to offer some courage-calming for this Empire challenge to restore fare-rich Blue-Planet (Earth!) capitalism (Selfie-like).

ENDYMION: This Restoration Manifest (Doctor Thorn) requires direct strike, hon!

MEDUSA: Perchance we make for some challenge 'game' to Thorn's QB (Mr. Satan).

ENDYMION: Excellence for the cleats of Martian Hell, hon (sure).

MEDUSA: Do we have the robot-drones in-place to disorient his moon-target IQ?

ENDYMION: Don't doubt it (Selfie-like!).

PORTIA: I fear for daddy's haven(s), Satan, darling.

AMLAN: Never fear, Portia, daylight-daughter of Doc-Thorn (ha).

PORTIA: You don't fear Endymion and Medusa (aliens)?

AMLAN: Capitalism's worth its weight in laser-quarterback touchdowns (the Ego).

PORTIA: I love you (Selfie-like).

AMLAN: I'll shoot Endymion square in the center of his gold-head vanity horn.

PORTIA: Damn (sure).

ENDYMION: This Satan is in love with Thorn's daughter (Portia?).

MEDUSA: We might freeze her here (liquid-nitrogen).

ENDYMION: We'll see if Amlan Satan's melted by romance's distraction for aim/fire!

MEDUSA: Wow, you're so evil (Selfie-like).

Amlan was able to destroy Endymion's robot-drones with laser-target shots when they invaded his spy-securities eye-station on our Blue-Planet moon pre-targeting of Endymion the Emperor himself. Endymion/Medusa retreated again to the Mars underground, vowing never to return or linger. Doctor Thorn cheered the laurel with a publicized Earth-marriage between Portia and Satan (Amlan!). This was a testimony for old-empires sustenance, and Doc-Thorn made the declaration, "We shall crown this relief with toylands-marketing and a renamed Earth city called New England, for old Blue-Planet 'French toast' cheers of crystals of sportsmanship civilization/mezzanine storytelling and 'cleats' like Le Morte d'Arthur (Camelot)!"

Folks, this space-adventure of great depth/cleats invoked our memoirs of old-Earth deeds of fantasy/marks for laurel and marked Mr. Amlan Satan as a new millennium 'helmet-man' of hospitality readings; and Amlan (himself!) was now (quite-busy) enjoying Irish curry-stew with Portia (his Blue-Planet wife).

THE END

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)