Welcome Home, Commander

So like, I roll up into this cave on one my usual hiking trips taking shelter from a brief storm. I walked by this cave a lot of times but some sort of weird smell emits from it so never stopped to check it out. This time I felt solace in the shelter so the smell was of little concern. I prefer to be dry like a true hiker. Did I mention I work as a post man?  
The cave looks like any other cave. Aside from the smell it had all the creature comforts a Neanderthal would appreciate. Stone couches, a love seat made of mastodon bones, and a California king size bed made of oak with a goose down mattress. Typical cave. Nothing impressive. The rain got worse and a bit of a puddle began to find it's way into the cave so I ventured back to avoid drowning in two inches of water. Also a natural sort of curiosity was piqued when I saw a welcome sign light up in the back.  
Walking toward the welcome sign a hamster greeted me. He jumps up and turns some brass knob and a stone slab opens. "Welcome Home, Commander!!!!" fell onto me like the modest drizzle that was outside. Ribbons of confetti flew into the air and gently floated to the floor. The floor was different than a cave, this part of the cave was Art Deco style with linoleum like your grandmother had in the 50s. I saw nothing or nobody that produced the merrymaking.  
I assumed it was ancient alien technology. I was correct to assume so because George Tsoukalos himself appeared on a screen on the wall dead ahead of me. His hair was tidy today. Weird. I didn't get what I was getting into. I had the urge to turn and run but Radiohead's "Plastic Trees" kept going through my head and it gave me a sense of courage that is only found in Radiohead's music.  
I stayed to see what could be made of this interesting turn of events. Anyone could have been the commander returning home, but it wasn't anyone else but me! How damn fortunate I felt. I am going to be commanding something! Crossed my fingers and hoped it was a double decker saucer that catered to the dinosaurs God so viciously destroyed. Mr. Tsoukalos began some speech and garnished his credentials with old clips of him on the hit History Channel show. He knew what he was talking about, and if he is on a screen in a Neanderthal man's dwelling, then he is ace in my book.  
After his moment of self glorification was over, he began to tell what it was in store for my future. Turns out I am a Commanding Dispatcher for the Intergalactic Mail Delivery Service, "Radiation, Supernovas, nor Alien Marauders". Seemed legit because this is George breaking this down for me. My job was just like the job I so desired outside the cave. But not the easy going bus driver I was hoping for. Turns out that is a vocational training job for aliens and humans that lack depth perception.
So I will be commanding a fleet of over 3 Trillion warm hole travelling ships!!! Delivering mail! Wow!!! Rain never stopped me, so why should an unapologetically violent universe stop me from sending couriers to their doom? George Tsoukalos turned out to be a mix between Thom Yorke and God with a dash of Ray Ramano. Now I am making a good living and have no idea where Gaia even is on this map in front of me.  
I am ending this journal entry until I have time to make for more. I have been swamped with this job and it seems I am doing it for eternity. I have no life, I have no girlfriend, unless you count the Gorgak hookers. They are provided for free, so that is less strain on my bank account I have in Ploom Courier Services Credit Union in Galaxy Blink Bink Gink in sector 1144-a-ss-ho-13.  
Commanding Dispatcher Dick Tink, Year 1999. (send help!)