Triton? Oh, yeah. That house I bought. No good. I couldn't take it. Beautiful house, but no oxygen, no gravity and worse than that, no alcohol. Those sly bastards won't even let you smuggle it honestly. I mean, hey, I don't mind floating around a twenty-five bedroom mansion in a space suit twenty-four hours a day, with no neighbours for a million miles or so, but doing it sober was such a drag.
R. Grant, "Backwards"
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