Ground control to Major Tom: We’ve seen your butt in zero G and it looks… fat. Oprah fat.
Ground control to Major Tom: You didn’t call. We assumed you were dead, so we contacted your mom. She seems concerned.
Ground control to Major Tom: We don’t know how it happened, but we killed your dog.
Ground control to Major Tom: Well, we did it again. Your monkey is… on the roof and won’t come down.
Ground control to Major Tom: If your car is parked outside… the lights are on.
Ground control to Major Tom: Someone broke into your apartment, your TV is gone.
Ground control to Major Tom: Things are awfully bad here, so take your time.
Ground control to Major Tom: The test came back positive. It’s cancer.
Ground control to Major Tom: Do you have my keys? I’m going to need them back. Wait. Never mind.
It goes on like that for quite a while. There’s a bunch more of them. Ground control to Major Tom: Take the stairs, the elevator is broken.
—DG.