
Oh, hi. I'm pretending to have just noticed you, looking at the blog post I wrote days ago. (What a giveaway!) We're having personnel issues again here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, high in the hill country of Central New York, far from the beaten path. It's my own fault for taking on a mad science advisor. Sure, he helps us get to Neptune and other distant worlds. Sure, he bends time like Superman bends steel bars (i.e. with his bare hands). But the utility ends where the madness begins, and let me tell you something, friends - Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, is as crazy as Jeremy Shaw's proverbial shithouse rat.
What's the source of the current eviction order? Well, Mitch heard an internet rumor that a certain Chinese Space Station - the Tiangong 1 - has been sputtering in a decaying orbit for the past few years, neglected by its owners, causing a threat to navigation high above the Earth's surface. He is now taking it upon himself to defend planet Earth by shooting the sucker out of the sky. Bet you can't guess how. No, not with a rocket. Nope, not a deadly Edward Teller-style laser. No, not an electron lasso (is that even a thing?). Give up? Me too. I don't freaking know.

Matt wants me to dispatch Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to City Hall with some kind of peace offering - donuts or potato soup, something like that. I don't know. Those official threats are the only personal letters I receive anymore ... I'm a little reluctant to let them go.