“Ok Tom, are you ready?”
“Yus, suw!”
The fluffy executes a perfect salute with one hoof as you place the astronaut helmet (actually just a fish bowl you slapped a NASA sticker onto) over his head and return his salute.
“Are you prepared to go where no fluffy has gone before?”
“Yus, suw!” he says with fierce pride.
“Ok, then step out onto the launch pad and insert yourself into the rocket.”
The yellow fluffy trots across the runway (actually your driveway) towards the Saturn V space rocket (available at Hobby Lobby for $49.99, motor sold separately) and pauses.
“Um… Majow Tom tu gwound contwow.”
“Come in, Major Tom.”
“Um… how fwuffy fit inside wocket?”
Smirking, you answer, “Oh no, YOU don’t fit inside the rocket. Your peepee does.”
“… wut.”
“No, that’s how you ride the rocket.”
Major Tom begins backing away from the rocket slowly, looking at you from the corner of his eye as if he suddenly suspects you might be a crazy person.
“Tom, don’t be like that. Look, see that hole in the side there?”
“… yus…”
“That’s where your peepee goes. Riding on a rocket is like… giving special huggies to a mare.”
“Weawwy?!”
“Yeah, really! You just stick your peepee in there, and then when the rocket takes off you hold on tight with your hooves and it gives you, um, good feels, the whole time!”
“Wow!”
“I know, right? Technology is so cool. So just… stick it in.”
“Otay!”
Tom gives another salute, bonking himself on the nose when he smacks a hoof into the fishbowl and bounces it into his face, but quickly recovers and, after achieving a boner in the shortest time you’ve ever seen, sticks his dick into the hole in the rocket.
“Um… gwound contwow?”
“Yes?” you ask as you turn the key on the rocket igniter and see the amber light turn on.
“Is wocket supposed to be aww… sticky?”
“Yes,” you reply, glad that the Gorilla Glue lining the hole is doing its job. “Just like a mare. Ok, let’s start the countdown!”
“10!”
“9!”
“8!”
“7!”
“Gwound contwow, Majow Tom nu suwe dis am gud idea…”
“5!”
“4!”
“Uff! Am stuck! Hewp!”
“2!”
“1!”
“LIFT OFF!”
You press the button on the rocket igniter with one hand, and the play button on your old school boombox with the other.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Major Tom actually lifts about three feet off the ground before the rocket’s acceleration rips his dick off; the exhaust sets his balls and tail on fire and he lands on his back, flailing madly and screaming bloody murder as the flames spread to the rest of his fluff.
Major Tom’s dick achieves an altitude of 1,000 feet before the motor burns out and the parachute deploys. Major Tom himself is on fire and thrashing around in your driveway, shards of glass digging into his face as he shatters his fish bowl ‘helmet’ on the concrete in a vain attempt to stop the pain consuming his every nerve ending.
“And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time, till touchdown brings me 'round again to find, I’m not the man they think I am at home, oh no no no! I’m the rocket man!”
Your neighbor is watering his lawn with the hose in one hand, beer in the other, and looking at you with a mixture of amazement, disgust, and Jack’s complete lack of surprise.
“You’re a weird motherfucker, Dave.”
“Right back atcha, Jim!”
“Please don’t talk to me. You, uh, you gonna put that out?”
He nods toward Tom’s smoking body wheezing on your driveway.
“Eh, he’ll only smolder a few more minutes. I gotta go find my rocket.”
You trot off down the street in the direction the parachute floated gently back to earth and smile.
Then horrible realization strikes: you forgot to turn on your camera. None of that was recorded.
“DAMMIT! How am I gonna get a video for Dick Rip Week now?”
“Hewwo nice mista! Be nyu daddeh!”
You look down at a red fluffy with candy-stripe pink and white mane and tail and smile.
“Yes! I’ll be your new daddy! But you have to call me ground control. And your name is… Buzz. Buzz Lightyear.”
“Buzz wuv nyu name! Fank yu daddeh!”
You pick Buzz up and carry him as you spot your rocket laying in someone’s yard and jog toward it.
“Buzz, how would you like to participate in the space program?”
