Much to his regret, Gordon McKenzie eats canned soup for dinner.
If there was some hidden meaning behind this story, unlike Mr. Mendlow's "Gold Rush", which forced me to intellectually hallucinate hidden meanings that may or may not have been there, your story stretched my creativity muscle to its tearing point. I struggled to keep up with the fanciful journey of an outraged Gordo, who has been cheated out of a disgusting can of Plain Lentil soup. A rat, again, has played a major part in one of your stories. I wonder if it was an unlucky Scout.
I thought there was going to be more to the story, and Cody's parting words about a plaque on the moon with Nixon's name on it wrapped nothing up for me in my head. I am thoroughly confused, and I think that I prefer it that way at this point. I admire the dazzling display of creativity and originality that you show in this piece. It makes absolutely no sense to me, which is why I think I will read it again, but somehow it still drew me in (even though it is strings of words that make sense and do not at the same time, I am still fond of it). The confusing aspect of this story is part of its charm, well done.
Your use of simple, straight forward imagery pushed my senses into overdrive and sent me hurtling into a strange, brightly colored land where up is down, and down is what they call the under-feathers of creatures with wings. My eyes were ready to nearly pop out of my head by the time I got to reading about the press, his publicity agent, and crudely made alien space crafts. Your randomness was refreshing, I had no idea about what I was getting into until I was practically drowning in it. Everything was vivid, you wrote it light and humorous, but there was still much substance to it.
The only thing that I wish to criticize is that the most wonderful imagery comes in a wall of text that takes up an entire page, has quite a few commas and absolutely no sentence breaks, and overwhelmed me. I think that was the point though, so I'm not distraught. It's a delightful mess.