About seventy thousand four hundred thirty eight light years from planet Haedria lies the perfectly circular orbit of the largest of the seven pearly white moons orbiting Vamiatia. Vamiatia is a level three planet because of its midrange size, and it has triple rings that shift their tilt angles entirely in the opposite tilt every eighteen or nineteen years, depending on the combined positions of its seven moons, but more particularly the presence of the gravitational pull of the awkwardly enormous moon orbiting neighboring planet Pvesro. Vamiatia’s atmosphere of heavily concentrated helium makes way for an unusual high frequency of all life forms on the planet, well, for those life forms with vocal abilities. Because of the anomaly of voice pitches on the planet, diplomats, no matter how impartial they had been trained to be, found it tremendously difficult to take any of the Vamiatians seriously. To the leader of the Vamiatians - oh yes, the entire planet had one leader - it was the reliving of a nightmare during every diplomatic event. He could always bet all of his soup spoons that the diplomat would burst out laughing after only two to three seconds of listening to him, or any other Vamiatian speak. (The record was four and a half seconds.) And yes, it was an odd tradition, though nobody remembered why, that the inhabitants of the Vamiatian planet value spoons above their own lives. It was not just spoons that they valued. They particularly valued soup spoons, especially ones that had been used to drink sthgi yabcoquo soup. It’s a local delicacy. Moving back to the helium voice problem, the inhabitants of the Vamiatia unanimously supported a proposal to convert all of the helium in the Vamiatian atmosphere into another gas in an effort to let the entire planet be taken seriously by neighboring planets and foreign planets of other galaxies. They decided to use their popular fission industry to try to convert the helium in the atmosphere into hydrogen. However, the fission process headed in a bad direction, and the hydrogen in the atmosphere became an explosive that turned the entire planet into one huge firecracker. Vamiatia was no more.

But that’s okay. This narrative is about the curse involving the mysterious diamond star, not a planet with an atmosphere similar to a birthday balloon. In other words, who gives a fuck about Vamiatia.

Moving on...

Once upon a time, there was a record-size star named the Diamond Star. Now upon a time, there is a record-size black hole named the Diamond Hole. It is sometimes inappropriately nicknamed the mysterious dark hole of pleasure. [rolling eyes]. Humanoids these days. But that’s besides the point. What made this particular star so special was a tiny chuck of mineral that lay inside the iron core of the star. It was a crystal called kryklesta-segvo-jyiroplrikon-tek. It has been widely, and mistakenly, thought to be a diamond. Thus, the name of the star was the Diamond Star.

The crystal inside the star was extremely heat-resistant, needless to say, because it was able to withstand the phenomenal temperatures of the star’s iron core. The crystal was also the only of its kind remaining since the creating of the Universe, so it was seen by many as a fountain of youth or a time travel device or the answer to the Universe or the meaning of life. Consequently, thousands of creatures from around the galaxy and the neighboring galaxies took it upon themselves to make a pilgrimage to take the crystal for themselves. Because none of them ever returned, it was soon recognized a curse. If they saw all the incinerated spaceships in the proximity, they’d realize that it was not a damn curse, but what the fuck to they care? What the fuck do I care? I’m the narrator, and quite frankly, I’m tired. So when I’m tired, I stop narrating. Ka-peesh? Fuck off. I can spell.

Goodnight.

Not complete