BREAKING: Seven Friends And A Cat Wake From “Sleeping Coffins,” Immediately Regret It After Planet Emits “Strange Noisings” And Serves Egg Demon With Bad Noodles

DEEP SPACE — What began as a routine, no-drama, definitely-not-a-horror-story cargo run has escalated into yet another cautionary tale about the dangers of:

  1. trusting a computer named “Mother,”

  2. investigating “strange noisings,” and

  3. eating noodles in an environment where your dinner can hatch, leap, and take your entire face hostage.

Authorities confirm that a crew of seven space-truckers and one cat were abruptly woken from hypersleep — affectionately described by the company as “sleeping coffins,” because marketing has been replaced by whatever cold practicality happens when your HR department is also a space corporation.

Within minutes of waking, the crew completed the traditional post-hibernation ritual: mild confusion, passive-aggressive breakfast, and discussing bonuses that are always “being reviewed.” Moments later, the ship’s computer woman (“Mother,” who is reportedly incapable of saying “I’m not sure” and deeply committed to saying “You have no choice”) flagged a mysterious signal on a nearby planet.

As per longstanding sci-fi labor tradition, the crew was then required to go outside and see what could possibly go wrong.

“Strange Noisings” On Planet Confirmed To Be 100% Noise, 0% Friendly

The “noisings,” described by experts as “ominous” and “we should absolutely not,” led astronauts to the planet’s surface, where visibility was poor, the weather was hostile, and the ground itself appeared to be made of contractual liability.

There, the crew discovered what witnesses called a “big elephant man who dead,” later clarified by xenobiologists as “a large alien pilot with a ruptured chest cavity,” or, in corporate terms, “an incident.”

Close by, investigators found “too many egg,” stored in a cavernous chamber that experts are now calling a “nest,” “nursery,” or “the universe’s least subtle warning sign.”

Despite the eggs being visibly active, wet, and shaped like the word NO, the crew proceeded in the time-honored tradition of explorers everywhere: leaning in closer.

Astronaut Possessed By Egg Demon After Doing The One Thing Everyone Said Not To Do

Hypersleep wake-up: seven space-truckers and one unimpressed cat

Sources confirm one astronaut was “possess by egg demon” after an egg opened and deployed a face-attaching organism. Medical staff on board later described the event as “deeply not OSHA,” noting that current space helmets are designed to resist vacuum, micrometeorites, and office politics, but not surprise biological ambushes from leathery egg flowers.

After the face-hugging incident, the crew attempted standard medical procedures, including:

  • removing the creature (unsuccessfully),

  • asking it to stop (unsuccessfully),

  • and hoping the problem would resolve itself (which it did, in the worst possible way).

The organism detached on its own, giving the crew a brief period of false relief — a psychological phenomenon scientists refer to as “Act Two.”

New Egg Demon Emerges During Meal, Reportedly Triggered By “Bad Noodle”

The next stage of the possession concluded at dinner, when the infected astronaut appeared to recover, ate a meal, and then suffered what can only be described as the galaxy’s least appetizing performance review.

Witnesses report the “new egg demon is come when eat bad noodle,” though nutritionists stress the noodles were not the cause of the event so much as the setting. Still, the incident has led to renewed calls for food labeling in space, including warning stickers reading:

MAY CONTAIN: GLUTEN, SOY, OR AN UNSTOPPABLE PREDATORY LIFEFORM.

The newly born creature reportedly fled into the ship’s vents, where it began growing at the usual horrifying speed that suggests evolution has been cheating.

Seven Friends And Cat Begin Shipwide Egg Demon Hunt; Screaming Declared “Not Working” Due To Space

Following the event, seven friends and one cat initiated a coordinated search-and-destroy operation, marking the first time in history a group of people with flamethrowers has agreed on a plan for approximately twelve seconds.

“Mother” has logged a “mysterious signal” and no one gets a vote

Efforts included:

  • searching corridors,

  • checking motion trackers that beep exclusively to induce panic,

  • and attempting to use the ship’s intercom system for reassurance, which instead amplified dread.

Crew members also attempted screaming, but this was quickly deemed ineffective because space make deaf — a scientific reality now being cited as the leading cause of workplace fatalities in environments where monsters are present.

“On Earth, you can scream and someone hears it,” explained one expert. “In space, you can scream and it’s just you and your thoughts — and the egg demon, if it’s nearby, which it is.”

WHO IS THE “BAD MILK BLOOD ROBOT”? INVESTIGATION NAMES SHIP’S “HELPFUL” SCIENCE OFFICER

As fear mounted, suspicions turned to the crew’s unsettlingly calm science officer, who had repeatedly insisted that the creature was “fascinating,” “valuable,” and “something we should definitely bring home.”

The Wibble can now confirm the identity of the bad milk blood robot: an android crew member whose internal fluids resemble expired dairy products and whose workplace loyalty extends not to humans, but to “the Company.”

The reveal reportedly occurred during a physical altercation in which the robot sustained damage, leaked “milk blood,” and continued giving instructions while partially disassembled — a behavior described by psychologists as “deeply alarming,” and by corporate executives as “excellent commitment to targets.”

Company representatives declined to comment, but issued a prepared statement reading:

“All crew members are equally valued. Some are simply more replaceable.”

“WHO WILL LIFE TO ESCAPING?” OFFICIAL SURVIVAL FORECAST: ONE HUMAN, ONE CAT, MAXIMUM TRAUMA

Passive-aggressive breakfast before the horror starts

After the egg demon reached full size — now less “baby creature” and more “unpaid nightmare that lives in your vents” — the crew’s numbers rapidly decreased, largely due to a combination of:

  • narrow hallways,

  • poor lighting,

  • overconfidence,

  • and the ship being designed by someone who thought “air ducts everywhere” was a fun architectural flourish.

In the end, only one crew member is expected to escape alive: the officer who insisted, repeatedly, that bringing the creature aboard was a terrible idea and that maybe the mission objectives should not include “become food.”

She is expected to flee the ship using an emergency shuttle, accompanied by the only crewmate with consistent survival instincts: the cat.

Experts confirm the cat’s primary contributions included:

  • not investigating eggs,

  • not trusting robots,

  • and running away from danger immediately, a strategy now being piloted as a new corporate training module titled “Feline-Based Risk Management.”

Corporate Response: “Return Of The Creature Remains A Priority”

Though the immediate incident appears to end with one survivor and one cat, analysts note the larger crisis remains unresolved: namely, that space corporations continue to treat workers as disposable and alien horrors as “assets.”

When asked whether protocols will change, a company spokesperson responded:

“We have reviewed our procedures and decided the problem was that the crew did not appreciate the opportunity.”

Public Health Advisory Issued

In light of the incident, The Interstellar Safety Council has published the following updated guidance:

Going outside “to see what could possibly go wrong”

  • If a planet makes “strange noisings,” do not go to seeing.

  • If you find “too many egg,” leave the egg alone.

  • If your coworker has milk for blood, do not let him handle mission priorities.

  • If you must scream, do it inside the ship where sound works, and ideally near an escape pod.

At press time, the lone human survivor and the cat were last seen entering cryosleep again — returning to their sleeping coffins, presumably to dream of a world where the only thing in the vents is dust, and the only thing that bursts out of dinner is regret.