Note: this may or may not be true.
So I left, for what I thought was for good until spring break.
Now I’m back.
Long story short: we were in Sequoia on vacation; turns out three blizzards are about to hit; it was either leave or be trapped until sometime next week.
And then the space station began hurtling towards Earth at breakneck speeds. As the metal behemoth began disintegrating in the upper atmosphere and flames erupted around the hull I began jettisoning cargo for an emergency water landing. One cat, two cats, three cats — all the cats were defenestrated with little tiny personal parachute pants.
As fuel leaked out of the fusion reactor, Sergeant Levkovic lit a cigarette. As he dangled it loosely between his gaunt lips, I screamed, “NO, YOU FOOLISH FOOL! WE’RE IN AN OXYGEN RICH ENVIRONMENT! AND WE’RE ALREADY ON FIRE!”
The ensuing explosion vaporised half of Indonesia and left only me and our alcoholic test pilot orangutan Suzy alive in the twisted, burning flotsam. “Well,” I said to Suzy, who had already managed to ferment seaweed into some sort of schnapps and was loudly and drunkenly insisting that she, in fact, was Tiffany, “Looks like we’ll have to repopulate the planet.”