EVER, EVER BOARD THE 'SPATIAL SLOTH'!
The Spatial Sloth promised a dazzling trip to Porto Cariolux but turned out to be a lurching nightmare-one that would traumatize even the hardiest telepath! My advice: read on and heed this warning.
Let me begin with the warning I try to transmit through every awareness ripple in Porto Cariolux: this so-called 'spacecraft' named the Spatial Sloth is an utter nightmare-a mechanical failure masquerading as transport! From the moment I boarded, the smell alternated between molten insulation and ancient jellyfish trails. My synapses recoiled in horror.
First shock: the navigation system only communicated in a dialect even overtonefield gas beings would not comprehend. Then the bio-seats refused any form of telepathic feedback-a torment for someone of my species! The lift space for luggage embodied chaos itself, merging identities with someone else's abandoned party mask.
And the "comfort": after exactly three microwarp hops, the reactors sputtered like a tram seized by neon-fog emergencies. Crossing the microplastic ocean, we were repeatedly attacked by irate Faveloid-shrimp, while the crew cowered in their cockpit’s backlight. From sheer turmoil to catastrophic identity mix-ups, this ship is a floating assault on your mental integrity!
To top it all off, upon arrival, all passenger baggage was converted into sound waves, now presumably performing with the Order of the Orderly Sound orchestra. NEVER AGAIN!