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Devon Stark


Having graduated with honors from Strykali Polytechnical, Devon Stark went on to become Second Incinerator for the Brobnagog Enforcement Council, Stellar Force.

Comments (63)


Thanks. Now I have to start working out again.

Jonathan C. Hohensee:

"Sir, the Brobnagog are uprising again!"
Devon rushed to action-grabbing retaliation request form #1809 and signing it in triplicate before sending it out to headquarters.

But the request forms never made it. Headquarters were overrun wih Pythonian warlords hell-bent on choking the chain of command at the source,

Stark was on his own and he didn't even know it.

If this isn't a graphic novel in the making, it should be. I could help with the script. Call me.


Take a swing at it. It should be:

-Funny in a "faux trek" satire kind of way

-Lots of outrageous twists in the plot

-No more than twenty pages long

-Loaded with strange creatures and stranger motivations

Kind of shooting for Douglas Adams -meets-George Lucas vibe.


Jonathan C. Hohensee:

Care to take submissions from more than one person? Because last night, just as a wash, I was actually writing down ideas for a Devon Stark thing too.


Let 'er rip. I'm gonna be a bit picky, so don't get too upset if I seem a little "unimpressed" at yur first effort. But if you're inspired to do some writing, my goodness, let's see what ya got.


just make sure he has a lot of lemons....

Jonathan Logon:

As his ship, the "Prius 7", left the Brobnagog shipyards for Gathala in the k'Ac'aphony zones, Devon Stark could only marvel at the wonderous complexity and beauty of the inter-Throon mission log submission forms. It was these basic 1437-page daily log application forms that the Pythonians surrendered to after only 17 standard hours! "By Hooghnaugh!" Stark thought. "The lowest Sublighter J.G. would be executed if he didn't complete them in less than seven!"

He switched the Insta-Com-o-Matic over to 359ITV to listen to the latest from First Degree Information Vizor, Thagel Tzu Smerch, to see what COM-GRAM had for them...


Suddenly, in a burst of static, he heard that faint voice from his past. "...you never call". Egads man! Stark thought the last sigmoid plastiotomy had silenced that ZMDIL1 implant! "...we never talk...". Arugggh! That petualant voice, dragging Stark back to the very beginning when he first gained consciousness within the primordial stew of the Blend-omatic Birthalyzer 7400. It was her!

Stark had more than a passing interest in latest Stellar buzz. Word had it that Throon was on the cusp of "flipping the zone"- an astounding new method of molecular travel that would capsize the Stellar Power Grid's hold on galactic hegemony.

Stark wanted in on the heavenly bonanza of codes and filing work that would be needed to outline the inevitable pre-emptive strike.


Having graduated with honors from Strykali Polytechnical, Devon Stark went on to become Second Incinerator for the Brobnagog Enforcement Council, Stellar Force. It was he that the Council called upon whenever a brave man was needed to go heroically into the pitch black night of space to the furthest reaches of the Imperium to deal with the scum of the universe, to struggle unto the end, to take out the garbage. Not to mention the recycling.

The Prius seemed like an extension of his body as he steered around the planet in a slingshot maneuver. Stark could feel the energy cells throbbing behind him, pulsing like the core of a star writ small, and he smiled and put both hands on the stick.

Then the acceleration kicked in and tipped his open thermos full of tea into his crotch. As the hot lemony aroma filled the cockpit, he pulled up hard to avoid the Thrag'arrk scrap trawler that had crawled into view. "Dammit!" he cursed. "I should never have gone decaf."

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John Cox is a painter, cartoonist, and illustrator for hire. For information about purchasing existing work or commissioning new work, contact him by e-mail at john555cox [at] hotmail.com.

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