Summary

Private Horseshit, a space soldier, is tasked with the mundane and absurd in a space opera setting, including cleaning space-whale vomit and dealing with inadequate equipment, all while navigating the hierarchy of the space military.

Abstract

In "The Famous Cucumber Space Opera — Part I," we are introduced to Private Horseshit, a space soldier who is skeptical about the quality of his century-old spacesuit provided for a supposedly epic battle between good and evil. Despite his wit and desire for better equipment, he is outsmarted by his colonel in a humorous exchange about the mythical creature known as a horse. The narrative reveals the daily life of a lower-ranked space soldier, which includes menial tasks such as cleaning and dealing with the whims of higher-ranked officials. Private Horseshit's ambition is to rise in rank to command others, but for now, he must contend with his current duties and the teasing of Private 42-B702.

Opinions

Private Horseshit is dissatisfied with the quality of his spacesuit, considering it inadequate for the tasks at hand.
The protagonist feels that he is being sent to his death with subpar equipment, indicating a lack of value or care from his superiors.
There is a sense of absurdity and humor in the protagonist's interaction with the colonel, particularly in the description of a horse as a five-legged creature with a rainbow horn.
Private Horseshit takes pride in his role as a space soldier despite the absurdity and mundanity of his tasks, suggesting a sense of duty and resilience.
The protagonist harbors some resentment towards Private 42-B702, who has been promoted above him and no longer engages with him.
There is a hint of sarcasm and exaggeration in the protagonist's narrative, particularly when he refers to the daily tasks as part of the "fight between good and evil."

The Famous Cucumber Space Opera — Part I

Private Horseshit reports for duty

This spacesuit was made one hundred years ago, and they want me to wear it for the final battle between good and evil?

Am I a joke to them?

“Colonel! This spacesuit is horseshit!”

“You take what you get, Private!”

“I ain’t stupid. I know you’re sending me to certain death with this kind of equipment. I want what you have. The latest combo-spacesuit with its micro anti-matter fissile missiles!”

“Tell you what, Private, if you can answer a question, I’ll switch the suits with you.”

“Sure thing, Colonel, I’m smart as a cucumber; nothing can stop me.”

“Exactly, Private. You said your spacesuit is horseshit. So, what’s a horse?”

Of course, I don’t know what a horse is. Nobody knows what a horse is anymore. We’re living in space for more generations than moons are flying around Jupiter. Yes. I also don’t know where Jupiter is. Who cares?

I decide to retreat with panache.

“A horse is a five-legged, highly-intelligent sentient animal, with a rainbow horn on its forehead. According to the legends, its shit smells like cucumbers and is more solid than the latest tungsten-plasma used to shield our spaceships. Thank you for this wonderful spacesuit, Colonel.”

“You’re welcome, Private. Now go out there and clean the portholes from the space-whale vomit we got this morning.”

OK. So, you remember when I said earlier, it was the final battle between good and evil? I might have exaggerated.

I’m Private 42-A001, nicknamed Horseshit by most of the crew, except for Private 42-B702, who doesn’t talk to me anymore. She got too big for her britches after getting promoted to B rank last month.

Besides taking part in the fight between good and evil, I’m in charge of cleaning space-whale vomit from the portholes and the colonel’s vomit from wherever he got too drunk last time.

I live the exciting life of a space soldier and wouldn’t change my place for anything in the world. My goal is to advance in the hierarchy to the point I’ll be able to order Private 42-B702 to go clean the space-whale vomit from the portholes outside.

In the meantime, I’m gonna go down the corridor to the next hatch and clean them myself. I’m pretty sure Private 42-B702 will be waiting for me on the other side, grinning and making fun of me, as she always does.

I can’t wait.

One more minute of science fiction by Smillew?

A+ in Astropsychomathics

You can do it if you believe you can

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