Se we went bananas, crowned them with their cameras and took photos of ourselves.
But we left the lens cap on.
So obviously none of the pictures came out, dadgummit.
But they decided to make me King for Life.
So I walked right up and made myself comfy on the throne.
But there was a scimitar hanging by a sparse thread over the throne.
So I asked one of my more reliable minions to carefully remove it.
But he slipped and it cut off his head.
So, I had his head impaled on a spike in front of the palace, to show my subjects that I was a tough customer, not to be trifled with.
But the natives were, to put it mildly, restless.
So I summoned the mother ship.
But the ion thrusters needed a full Class-7 recalibration.
So I decentered the molybdenum portaloid, rerouted the electrophasic hemoclares, introduced a combinant remulsifier, hammered out the spark plugs, bypassed the forensic catalyst, solidified the unobtanium fuse and turned the nanowarp oscillators up to eleven.
But none of that meant much to me as long as my cabin had a window.
SO, I tore back the curtains hoping to see the sea
But by that point we were well on our way to Proxima Centauri.
So, I looked for the transporter room, so I could beam down to a nice looking nearby planet.
But they had stationed Hawkguards outside my door.
So I offered them a hundredweight of field mice.
But their supervisor was watching on a vidlink.