Den monumentala graffitiartistens namn var John Ewe. För posten är boken han ser på Röd dvärg: Bättre än livet , inte Red Dwarf: Infinity välkomnar noga drivrutiner
John Ewe shut down the satellite link, and followed his hairy beer-belly back to the front of the ship. Before he could reach the safety webbing, a massive pocket of methane turbulence rocked the refuse craft and sent him staggering into the first-aid box. He fingered the gash that grinned bloodily on his brow and invented two new swear words. The methane storms had been getting worse over the past few years, and he knew he should have consulted the meteorological computer before he ventured from his safety harness. As he lurched to his feet, a second methane blast hit the ship under its belly, sending him stumbling back down the narrow aisle. As he slithered helplessly backwards, his flailing arm caught the door-release mechanism, and the cockpit's emergency exit swung open.
His fat fingers scrambled for a hand-hold, but found nothing until he slid through the open doorway, and he grabbed the rim of the footledge. For thirty seconds he dangled, screaming, over Europe.
Then he dangled no more.
He plunged from the yawing garbage ship, and drowned in his own signature.
'Ewe woz 'ere', it said. And it was right, 'e woz.