CRISIS ON MARS
I am old. I am an old wrinkly old lady. The year is 2089, and I am 84. By this point in our freaky freakshow of a future my moles have shriveled up and fallen off, my ankles have been replaced 10 times, and my knees make the sound of a snare drums when I attempt to use stairs. Despite the horrors of the era, somehow, by some strange miracle, my flabby arms, flappy breasts and missing ankles have made me hotter than ever... to bachelor Martians, that is. That's right, Mama lives on Mars.
after the Earth exploded in 2050 due to one of President Mr. Beast's social experiments going too far, the CEO and Founder of "Tesla's R Stinky So I Build Rockets", X Æ A-12, thankfully built a big fat rocket to evacuate Earth. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough room on the rocket for Millenials, so those smol beans exploded big time. After mourning the Millenials with an "erm.. did a thing ☝️" post on InstaBAM (post explosion social media), this motherfucker made it to Mars.
39 years later and Mama is thriving... in an old person's home. For old people. On Mars. As I was eating my Beyoncé pancakes in honor of the 30th anniversery of Beyoncé death ✊ with my dog one morning, I heard an alarming sort of alarm in the laundry room. "fuck I hate alarms," I thought to myself, because I lowkey hate alarms. After Twatting about how I lowkey hate alarms on my Twatter account, I made my way to the laundry room to see wassup. Unfortunately for me, nothing good wassup. My laundry room was telling me to evacuate... and I'm lowkey lazy. Luckily, after 5 vodka shots and some complaining, I remembered that I have just what I need to survive! A filthy, gaping hole, and a big drill. I had the Big Digger™ 2000.
The way the Big Digger™ 2000 works is quite simple. With it's sleek design, biiig thiick drill in the front made of durable repurposed microplastics, and spaciously insulated interior, the Big Digger™ 2000 was bound to do the job. After quickly grabbing my dog, my power pellets, and Bertha's rose toy (it's gonna be a long trip) I jumped into the machine. As soon as both Buck and I were in the main capsule, the gloop seal was engaged, and the dingle light was on, my Big Digger™ 2000 started digging. And boy was that dirt hole huge. The machine was underground in no time. From that point on, the trek to Old Home 2 was smooth sailing. Underground there were no meteors, no bad air quality, and no freezing cold temperatures. All my dog and I had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride. I turned on House MD on the magnetic DigShield (nothing gets me going like medical malpractice and queerbaiting) and drank some RedBull Vodka. Mission Accomplished. In the wise words of Socrates, "fuck yeah" 💯