No Stress Space Express

Howdy, friend. I'm Rusty, and so is my big-rig's engine. When the old girl finally gave up the ghost in the middle of nowhere, I wasn't expecting to get a tow from an alien mothership. But the next thing I knew, me and my buddy Mike were halfway across the galaxy in an oversized hubcap full of the weirdest space creatures you ever did see. Turns out aliens are mighty friendly folks, but they can't fix their tech to save their lives.

Heya, friend. Rusty here. Believe it or not, me and Mike swapped our eighteen-wheeler for a spaceship. And she's a real beauty… if you like fixer-uppers. The old girl's got landing gear that squeals like a cat playin' violin, plumbing like a Las Vegas fountain show, and more loose screws than a nuthouse. But to us, she's perfect. A diamond in the rough, ready to be polished up with some elbow grease and TLC. And maybe a few prayers to Saint MacGyver.

Hey, bud. It's Captain Rusty, gearin' up to haul a load of space freight through the Vorn Abyss. Sounds like a heavy-metal band, but it's a patch of space with wonky gravity, where your ship gets pulled in more directions than a dog walker at a squirrel convention. It's gonna be a heck of a ride, but our old rig can handle it. Probably. Me and Piper are ready to kick off our honeymoon as soon as we get back, but Murphy is always watching, and the universe has a way of rearranging your plans faster than a tornado rearranges a trailer park.

Heya, pal. It's Rusty, and I'm just as surprised as you are. Right when me and Piper thought we'd had the wildest adventure in the cosmos, Mike and Jenna waltzed in, dressed to the nines, with grins on their faces and a yarn of their own to spin. See, Jenna’s got feelings for Mike she ain’t ready to share, but you can't play hard-to-get when one of your passengers is a big blue slug who can read your emotions like an interstate billboard. Toss in Karlie and Feebee, the galaxy’s most lovable agents of mayhem, and things go off the rails faster than a circus train on ice.