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Add Sane Magazine to your My Netscape.

[Enter large man carrying a buffalo. A small buffalo.]
MAN: We now welcome you back heartily to a portion (we forget which, especially since they seem to have been happening in not entirely chronological order, and without any real concern for plot) of the serial, already, tediously, in progress.
INVISIBLE KITTEN: There is a very good chance that you won't remember what's previously gone on in the serial. Which is fair enough. And good enough, as we have, at the moment, a crack team of scientists hunting down past issues that have referenced or furthered the serial in some way or another in addition to the vast store of outtakes. A good deal of them will probably be wildly incongruous, if not outright contradictory.
BUFFALO: Burp.
[Invisible kitten eyes buffalo warily, which is extremely difficult to see.]
MAN: A bit hyperfiction-esque, you might say. Or would if it were an incredibly poorly written hyperfiction.
[Buffalo begins having convulsions, is performing an incredibly painful looking dance move, or is exhibiting all the classic symptoms of being attacked by an invisible kitten.]
[Exeunt all, presumably, as the invisible kitten has either gone off to get a drink or sits on the stage and sulks.]

---

The captain of the ship had just heard about the rather upsetting eruption of ivy in his corridor, just after hearing about the misalignment in his steering, that was slowly, inexorably driving the ship, the fattest ship ever to have been made, into the fast food restaurant placed (ill-advisedly placed, one might add, after the evening) alongside the port of call for most major interplanetary space ships that seemed to float about space aimlessly for some time, playing host to a good deal of kidnapping and capturing and dramatic in-ship fights, but never actually seeming to want to get anyone from point A to point B. Which was understandable, as the people that tended to pilot these sorts of ships were often either the exciteable type, that got tremendously thrilled by the sheer number of shiney buttons and levers of which they had command, or the sullen sort, amongst whom this captain could conceiveably be counted, who were usually quite busy being sullen, fretting about the number of fights going on on their ship, making certain the corridors retained the right degree of clankiness, so that the troupes marching up and down the corridors, looking to ferret out the latest stowaway/adversary, would make sufficient noise for the pilot to remain sullen and occasionally complain about the bloody racket they were always making, just in case a stowaway or worthy adversary (as he'd once caught them attempting to goad a sock into a gunfight, which, while admirable, ended tragically as the one soldier poking the sock and flipping it into the air lost an arm in one of the ensuing gunblasts, anticipating the sock's surely timely retaliation which, sadly, never came) was found.
Neither news item did a tremendous amount for the captain's disposition, which was usually terminally cheery and sullen all at the same time. It now veered towards terminally saccharine and cheery. And annoyed. And sullen.
And he was studiously flipping through his reasonably prodigious brain (so it was called, once in a while) so that when he finally said something, it wouldn't be another sci-fi cliché.

disclaimer:
Man carrying buffalo played by Tom Baker, Invisible kitten played by Arlo Guthrie. Sound effects by my next door neighbour, possibly without his knowledge and/or consent.