..not by a long shot. The year was 3999, and the Cosmopolitan Cosmos thrummed with a manic energy as the runway lights began to dim on the Parisian Empire.
A new dawn had begun in the far reaches of the galaxy, a rising star named Bespa Resputin, that even a supernova would struggle to outshine.
She was a stunning vision in a skin-tight gold bodysuit that shimmered like a disco ball caught in a cosmic ray. Her hair, a towering monument to defiance gravity had long since given up on, crackled with static electricity, each wild strand a miniature lightning rod for the madness swirling around her.
Bespa was on a quest, not for anything so small as galactic dominion or petty as colonization couture, she wanted to discover what lay beyond the known universe, pull out her fusion powered Stratocaster and jam with gods.
Spend an hour in the gravitational pull of her intense gaze and radioactive charisma and you just might believe that she could pull it off.