Barrett's heart burned with hot jealousy, as her imagination ran wild over unspeakable possibilities.
WASHINGTON — The Air Force quickly put out a joint Sunday, after the Boeing X-37B spaceplane made an unexpected return in the middle of the night, to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. The predawn landing woke the family dog, set off a smoke alarm, and confused two small children belonging to the spaceplane and Secretary of the Air Force Barbara Barrett.
Unlike the International Space Station, the unmanned X-37B spaceplane is not dependent on people for success or survival. It is a cold, scientific, rambling plane.
The warm reception, if brief, was colored by revelry the likes of which only 780 days apart can elicit. Following a loving embrace, Barrett noticed the unmistakable stench of alcohol on the breath of the unmanned science vessel.
Barrett said she pulled back instinctively, noticing that the plane was burned, tinted and charred, as if it had been involved in secret space meetings, perhaps in some smoky space bar with mustachioed aliens. Her imagination was running wild.
Barrett’s heart burned with hot jealousy, as her imagination ran wild over unspeakable possibilities.
“With a successful landing today, the X-37B completed its longest flight to date and successfully completed all mission objectives, assuming those objectives were to worry me, tarnish my trust, and lead our children to believe their spaceplane abandoned us,” Barrett said. “This mission successfully hosted Air Force Research Laboratory experiments, among global spying, as well as providing what I assume was a ride for a few small satellites, which the X-37B assures me were strictly professional.”
Barrett confided in her peers, probing for answers to her most pressing concerns. The spaceplane, she told Air Force Commander John Majors, seems distant and withdrawn, somehow different from how it left.
“What was it doing up there for 780 days?” asked Air Force commander John Majors. “It didn’t call. It didn’t text. Two years went by. Now it’s back? I am not saying anything one way or the other. I’d just want to know where it’s been.”
The mysterious and exotic real doctor Angstrom H. Troubadour, involved in secret projects around government black sites like Area 51 S4, at Papoose Lake, covered for the spaceplane, which he said was merely dropping off those hot little satellites with the tight asses, for business purposes only.
Real Doctor
“The X-37B spaceplane was on a top secret mission away from his wife, where he dropped off hot, upcoming satellites that hang behind foreign communications satellite, hoovering up every packet of data transmitted via satellite between the miserable scum living on the surface below.”
–Dr. Angstrom H. Troubadour, researcher and wingman
BREAKING: SPACEPLANE DATA LEAKED
“I’ve been on a 780-day mission, conducting top secret science experiments that literally can’t be done on Earth, and I gotta come home to this? It doesn’t make sense, I’ve been busting my ass.” said the Boeing X-37B. “You know, it is weird, though. Because now that I think about it, I thought I saw some receipts from Lockheed-Martin in our trashcan by the dresser.”
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LONDON–Immediately following an incredible journey of courage, adventure, and friendship, Embassy Cat returned to the arms of his one and only friend, a publisher who seemed down on his luck, and imprisoned like himself.
Embassy Cat was forcibly separated from Assange in Act I by ruthless Ecuadorian gangsters. Disney Films
The cat would often stare back at onlookers for long periods of time. This confused Embassy Cat, because he could not figure out why people were constantly looking in his windows. But he never felt scared, because just on the other side of a curtain was his best friend, Julian Assange. Then, when Assange was arrested and forcibly removed from their embassy suite, Embassy Cat faced the world alone, for the very first time. Over the course of his journey the cat learned that a true friend is worth fighting for.
Known for his simple charm, Embassy Cat loved collecting his own shit. He kept so much shit, it was kept in a box. Some even spilled over! People complained, but protected by Julian, Embassy Cat’s collection grew like subsidized corn. Now, the first thing Embassy cat noticed about his new owners, is how they would enter the room unannounced, regularly emptying his beloved collection from something called a kitty litter box. This sent Embassy Cat into a blind rage, triggering a cross-country odyssey sure to delight kids.
Embassy Cat could not face the television during Julian Assange’s arrest.
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Following an awkward 4 a.m. conversation, Embassy Cat escaped from the rental, made friends with a crow, and just in the nick of time, the two gained access to a hostile prison courtyard. There, he said goodbye to the crow, and enjoyed a heartwarming embrace with Assange, who quietly picked leaves and barbs from the animal’s coat, reunited at last.
Now his shit collection, grown to new heights, threatens to draw the attention of the guards patrolling their new home: Belmarsh maximum security prison in London. Assange and his cat are awaiting trial and extradition for narcissism.
What’s next for Embassy Cat and Julian? What lessons do they still have to learn about each other (or themselves)?
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