This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

Do not tell Huma.

 

“What in the hell is that?  A long, unidentifed, cigar shaped object in space?”  Director Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan asked.

“That’s the best story we could come up with.  Honestly, we don’t really know what we’re dealing with.  It could just be a big rock.” His aide replied.

“A room full of STEM majors and we have no better explanation for what is probably just a rock?  Why didn’t you just say it was a rock?”

“We have reason to belive it is not a rock, sir.”

“Who told you that?”  

“I told him that.”

Director Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan turned to see a man appear as if out of nowhere in the corner of his office.  He was wearing a cheap suit, typical of government types with a dingy white shirt and a black tie. He carried around a glass of what Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan assumed was whiskey with too much ice.  That is, it had ice in it.

He was smoking profusely, and looked to be made out of poorly tanned leather wrapped loosely over a flabby body.  No explanation was given to how this lard ass got into the office without anybody noticing.

“You see Achmed-in-ijad—“

“Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan.  Director Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan.”  He interrupted.

“Thats what I said.  Achmed-in-ijad.”

“You said it wrong.”

“You know what happened to the last diversity hire appointed as NASA Director, Achmed-in-ijad?  We found him in a puddle of puke and piss outside of Tijuana. Fun guy, but couldn’t handle his Russian hookers worth a damn.”  He took a drag of the cigarette. “I like you Achmed-in-ijad. I’d hate to see what the locals in Tampa will do to you. You may not eat pork, but let me tell you something—you taste like pork.”

“What do you want?”  Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan asked.

“I don’t really want anything but it was determined by my superiors it was time to let you know a bit of the story. But first a bit of background.”  He took a quick drink of this watered down whiskey and a long drag of the cigarette. He put it out on a ceramic icon on Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan’s desk.  He lit another cigarette. “In 1966, you were told Gemini 8 was stuck in an uncontrolllable spin, and—“

“Because of the quick thinking of Neil Armstrong, Gemini 8 recovered from the spin, and landed safely back to Earth.”

“You interrupt me again, I might take you to Tampa anyway.”  He said calmly. He took another long drag of the cigarette and with his free hand began to fondle his man breasts.  Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan couldn’t decide if he was sweating profusely under his jacket or lactating. Either way, his jacket was wet under the arms.  “Armstrong was thinking quick on his feet, but Gemini 8 was raped.”

“Raped?”

“You heard me.”

 

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

Do not tell Huma.

 

“This happened again in 1970, when the command module of Apollo 13 was raped six minutes after the crew filmed their public address.  That’s why it wasn’t aired to the public.” He took another drag of the cigarette and again put it out on the ceramic idol.  “And even the details of recent missions, you’ve been told are, simply put. Wrong.”

The man walked closer to Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan.  Close enough for the smell of boiled leeks, bad whiskey, American Spirit lights, spoiled milk, fried okra and the distinctive stench of bad sex the morning after with a half drunken hangover, to invade Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan’s moist, delicate nasal passages.

“Don’t wince at me because I smell like that broad you tagged, gagged and bagged back an MIT, Achmed-in-ijad.”  He composed himself, slightly adjusting his crotch.  “Just a few weeks ago, you thought, the Hubble Telescope was flipped off and on really fast to reset the onboard software.  NASA even put it out to the press because they thought it was funny.

But it wasn’t funny for the ISS crew.” He pulled out a 1980s era tape recorder and firmly pressed play.

 

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

Do not tell Huma.

 

“EVA 1,  did you hit the unit?”

“Roger that Houston.  Unit given a good hard kick.”

“Roger that EVA 1, unit appears to have come back online.  Good work EVA 1”

“Houston, we’re getting some kind of interference…you picking this up Houston? Some kind of transmission from a Smith?”

“SPACE SMITH FIX FLYING METAL BALL!  BY FIX, MEAN RAPE”

“Houston…”

“SUPPORT WAZ COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL.  SPACE SMITH SEND YOU BILL FOR TECHNICAL SERVICES”

“This is horrible.  Houston, do you copy?”

“Ahhhhh. Who let this thing in the maintenance bay?”

“SPACE SMITH NO COPY,  HIM HAVE ORIGINAL MOVES.  BY ORIGINAL MOVES…MEAN RAPE”

“Houston, we are sealing off the maintenance bay.  Houston, do you copy?”

“IN SPACE, NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU RAPE”

“Houston, maintenance bay breached!”

“THAT NOT ALL THAT BE BREACH.  SPACE SMITH BREACH EVERYTHING HIM REACH”

“Houston, we are initiating Soyuz escape pod checklist.”

“SPACE SMITH RAPE SOYUZ LAST WEEK.  IT NO FLY”

 

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

Do not tell Huma.

 

Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan’s blood ran cold.  

“What is that object in space?”  He asked.

“We don’t really know, Achmed-in-ijad.”  The man said before blowing smoke in his face.  “We just call it SPACE SMITH.”  He took one last drag.  “I can’t wait to see what he does to Elon Musk.”