Anatar

Once upon a time,

Anat. A planet of the Hd1 galaxy. Native planet of my people.

A great civilization, proud and smart,

known in the whole universe for our several scientific discoveries.

At the peak of our time, we became greedy,

unable to respect our host planet.

The air pollution destroyed the ozone layer that protected it

from the ultraviolet rays of a nearby star.

The planet became uninhabitable, and the few survivors of this people

began a journey looking for a new star

to call our Nest.

This is the story of my people.

Lord Feather?

Tell me, Quackenstein.

The planet is full of apples!

I see.

When I get back, I want the Oca Hòntas ready to land. Okay?

I see you!

Sorry, captain Dark Feather. Sorry, sorry.

Shut your beak, otherwise I'll pluck you.

He's not nervous today.

He laid the egg on himself.

Silence!

Warn Princess Avia!

Got it!

Long live Emperor Quack!

Quack quack!

He laid the egg on himself!

Emperor Quack.

Alequack?

Set an alarm at 6:00 a.m.

Please, set an alarm at 6:00 a.m.

Do you want me to try

to break my arm at 6:00 AM?

No!

Damn device!

Set an alarm at 6:00 AM!

Emperor.

Do you want me to play "Another one bites the duck"?

No!

Tell me.

The planet is inhabitable and full of apples.

Apples?

Yes!

Sold at the black space market...

We could make up for the planet's losses.

And the population?

Just give me the order and I'll pluck them all.

My Emperor.

Don't do it, Father!

My little nugget!

Princess Avia.

We have no other choice.

There are living beings on that planet!

But nugget,

those apples will be our salvation.

At what price?

Do you want me to cook rice?

We need this planet,

for our survival.

Why not share it with them?

We cannot trust these plucked.

But the press will pluck us alive...

Indeed...

I have a plan.

A sack of flour. And one.

Nobody offers more?

A sack of flour. And two.

Nobody offers more?

A sack of flour. And three,

sold to Zi Pe'!

Congrats!

Congratulations to Zi Pe' on his fourth wife.

Cheers to the happy couple!

May the blessing of the spirit of Pandoro

befall on all of you!

Long live Pandoro!

Long live the village of Mirica!

Now let's turn to the people's speeches.

Is there anybody who wants to talk?

Me!

No one?

Don't be shy!

Not one?

Me!

Good! Then...

I have bad news to give you.

Me, Mayor Crap!

Me.

Germano wants to talk.

This is the first bad news.

Please, Germano.

Please.

Miricans!

Compatriots!

Mates!

What's up?

Yes, yes, yes, straight to the point.

Yes.

I have a theory that could revolutionize our existences.

Maybe I know something that can change your life!

No, not this one!

This…

Is how we use to imagine Pandoro.

Bi-dimensional.

Flat.

Pandoro is flat!

No! No no no!

No, that's what I'm trying to tell you!

What if Pandoro wasn't flat, but…

An apple?

- No… no! - No?

Hemispherical.

Ahhh?

As we can all see if we leave this building,

there's nothing above us!

And so it is obvious to think that there's nothing above us, but…

Beneath us there is land!

A lot of land!

Too much land!

Goddam' land!

No, no, no! The land is good!

The land is our friend!

Oh, sorry, Land.

I… I…

I think that we could find new lands,

new animals, new plants!

We could finally find answers to all those questions that have tormented us, like…

How was the tiger mosquito born?

What's the meaning of “Torment”?

An apple, an apple, an apple!

Yes!

All of this stuff.

So, to verify if my theory is correct, I would need...

Six volunteers willing to leave their family, money and

safety for a suicidal journey to the edge of the world.

Who is with me?

No, no… wait!

Good job! We have to give it more and more to him.

Germano! Return quickly to your seat.

- Aaah! - Without a word!

Ouch! Ouch!

And now the bad news.

- Unfortunately, our chief of security… - Aaaah!

Our executioner and undertaker,

that from now on we'll call CS BB,

has slipped into an open grave

ending up beheaded! Because…

Because he was trying to rob our friend Giasira!

So we have to replace him.

For this reason I have launched a contest,

where you will vote for our new CS BB!

And now…

A communication… and an oath.

Before dying, the CS BB

had discovered who is responsible

for the theft of our precious alcohol

from our warehouses!

It was the inhabitants of the village of Missiche!

Here's the oath.

Your mayor swears he'll build the highest wall.

So we will protect ourselves from invaders!

And guess who he is going to ask to build the wall to?

You!

How?

- Get him! Get him! - You guys...

Enough! Guys, stop!

Aaaah!

Catch this!

You're a real chicken.

To summarize, you enter as Anatar

and exit as any other alien race you want.

Has it been tested?

No.

Remember me to pluck you, Quackenstein!

Noted.

I've already done the test, I'm compatible.

Not exactly...

Trust me, Father, I'm an adult duck.

No way.

It's too dangerous.

Dad!

Trust me.

What are you going to do?

I'll convince them to share the planet with us.

Two weeks. No more.

Then, I'll attack the planet.

I'm ready.

You talk too much, Germano.

And mostly of things that people don't care about.

And you don't pray, Germano.

And you don't embrace our rites and our traditions. But...

Your mayor loves you.

Let's do one thing.

Tonight you join a group of friends, some boys,

to throw stones at Aristides' son.

The five-year-old?

Are you crazy? The elder, the eight-year-old.

Does Aristides know?

He asked us to.