As he was passing out of the atmosphere he thought of the Eagle Nebula. He thought of the star clusters, and the gaseous pillars. Those motherfucking Gaseous Pillars. He had seen them in school books, in magazines and in popular science tv-shows all his life, sitting there like twin towers of space, millions upon millions of kilometres high.

And now, now he was going to see them for real. And not just see them, no - by God, by the Cock and by the Pussy, he was going to climb them. He'd climb them like King Kong scaled the fucking Empire State Building, he was the god-cursed Silver Surfer after stealing from the Incredible Hulk strength that increases with rage, rage enough to breach a barrier placed by Galactus.

There was no stopping him. Fuck the Apollo. This, he thought, is where stars are born.