The Islanders knew about all the things and concerns of the galactic cosmos better than any of the other inhabitants of the submissive stone worlds, on whose head-crown area just their island camped like a matrix-anchoring center to balance the world in their dispositions. Therefore, they saw the new light coming, long and long before the would-be seismologists of the Cadre squad began to consider whether some counselling might be in place, and whether it might be considered pondering on the inevitable phenomena of the multiverse just as recently ago as 25920 years. That all of their questioning senses were pointless anyway, they knew themselves and somehow they did not care, they just kept fading away without meaning and understanding and behaved as always, as if today’s day would be the beginning of all troll things.

Soltek observed the communication discrepancy of the pitch-normality brakes with great attention. He realised very quickly that there was a translation error that grandpa Soltek had already pointed out. But as the male islanders strongly refused to reset temporarily to break the sceptre with the women islanders, they probably had some bad experiences with it and were not prepared to let the Boltum’s sliders go for a second, …it could not happen again, which had to happen and once again the beer became warm, although it clearly violated the cosmic grand-constitution, which clearly forbade the existence of warm beer.

Also, Soltek did not like a warm beer, so he ignored the incident, especially since he knew that one and the other resourceful islander would almost certainly invent some ingenious frequency beer cooling. If one could rely on one thing, then the fact that the condition of a warm beer at any time is able to get out the best, the most activating, the most constructive possible, out of a human and in the immediate consequence will be able to change the situation to its advantage. Soltek chuckled and let Miss Asia serve him a fine green tea and waited.

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