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They have inaugurated the spaceport, the breathless crowd glues itself to the asphalt like a dead cat, staring fixedly at the shiny white enamel shuttle with its nose pointed high, next to the launch pad. The mayor arrives in the indigo sky of twilight, red with Lambrusco, he speaks and doesn't get a whistle. Everyone applauds when they notice that the launch is ready with a Laurent Parrier grand cuvee bottle.
The whole crew dressed in gala channels, parades along the street that seems to be the first of the Scala.
There is no space It's his branch but he clings to it like a koala, snobbish types that I would have drowned like chocolate in Marsala.
Lions and Rotary authorities, they take their seats in the Discovery but that full seat is paid for by the state, this is obscene, not Madame Bovary. On earth there is war between the poor, there is no place if you take shelter. 321 contact the shuttle leaves complete with autographs.
RIT: With a shuttle we are sending poop into space. Better this way we'll be wider, poop in space. Extraterrestrials is coming poop in space. You are artists, you make crop circles, we poop in space. Poop in space.
There is a middle-aged man with his partner who is less than half as old as him, an immature love, certainly caught in the disco in Poto Cervo. The prelate has the word ready, he is very expert in creation, he chases the devil out of the cockpit but handles his dung.
The young rap singer, is already in the REM phase, dreams of the star system, video space for the top ten.
The business man focuses on Jupiter for new factories. He wants to get his fill of alien work to pay less than elsewhere. The general no longer has a white and consumptive physique, he would have enjoyed it more with Futurisiko. Political men rest their royal asses on the decorated armchairs, their usual privileges. From up there the earth looks like a bowl weighing an ounce, covered in water but not a drop falls from the shower. There are those who take all the space and those who take it in their pockets, standing like commuters on the Bari-Foggia trains. But I'm happy because
RIT: With a shuttle we are sending poop into space. Let's not clog the sewers, poop in space.
Extraterrestrials poop yours, poop in space. More than close encounters. Poop in space.