ChristopherMaloney
Imagine Douglas Adams got together with Terry Pratchett and wrote the Confederacy of Dunces, and you have a sense of a much better book than this one. But invoking that image might give a sense of the style, gravitas, and personal charisma of Everest Jones. Now let it go, because Everest lives in his own world, which is small and squalid and nothing like New Orleans or England.
While many people dream of becoming galactic travelers, few accomplish this feat. The few who do have the right combination of bad luck, poor timing, and an ability to irritate alien life forms just enough to get kicked off on a strange world without angering them to the point of vaporization.
Everest Jones is the sort of person who really doesn't like to take long car rides, so galactic travel ranked low on his list of life goals. Possibly slightly lower than "stab self repeatedly in eye with cocktail fork." But he has the necessary luck, timing, and personality. So, by bad luck, Everest becomes our galactic ambassador for humanity. It's no wonder they don't return our calls.
Irreverent, with sexual references and humor.
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