The only thing more useful for traveling through space than your own towel is a ball of string.
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In Thoos’s ship, barreling through space, Rodrigo pulled out a Bricknock feather from his bag, tied a piece of string to the end of it, and dangled it about so that Purrloin could chase it around. Seeing this, Picknar said, “So that’s how she learned to kill a Bricknock.” Rolling his eyes, Rodrigo said, “Oh, yeah. This is exactly like the real thing.”
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Yep, that looks like a space yacht.
Now add on a laser.
It looks like a real Bricknock.
Compared with all other things in the universe, this is more than 99.99999999999999999999% like a bricknock than anything else. So yeah.
And a rock to wind your string around.
Almost as good as a prosthetic forehead.
Twenty minutes ago, I would not have gotten that reference. But, by a strange coincidence, I have been listening to Flood for the first time while trawling through my various webcomics.
Cats naturally play, and fairly viciously, but they have to be taught to kill.
This is true across the phylum. I once saw film of three lion cubs cornering and bringing down an elephant calf. One of them had its teeth set right into the squalling calf’s neck… he looked a little vacant, then licked the skin he had just punctured and let the calf go. Strange to see what actual instinct can and can’t force you to do.