It's September already!?! And just when I was getting used to summer. Oh well. I guess I'd better get on with the article. September is supposedly good for a lot of things, although I can't really remember anything except that Final Fantasy 7 is coming out on the 7th. (this is a real thing, I apologize). Well, if I can remember, Labour Day is in September, and we have to go back to another year of sitting in hot rooms, with people that have the attention span on a rock, watching my math teacher try to fix a clock that is still plugged in. Yep. It's school again, and if you have ever been to school (or at least watched the nightly news) you would know that, at this very minute, there is an aging space station orbiting the earth, getting ready to fall apart at any minute and crush large parts of cities around the globe, whereupon people will come out of their homes and say

"Carlos! There is another broken piece of that stupid space station in the yard. Get it off the lawn! Carlos? CARLOS! Get out from under that soyuz escape pod and move it!! Playing dead won't help. If you aren't off your lazy . . ."

and so on and so on. So, as you see, the world is in dire need of a new space station in working order that we can use to orbit the earth and study needed studies, such as how long a Jell-o mould can float in the command module until it either gets eaten by a hungry astronaut (or cosmonaut) or is sucked into the air recyclers and eventually finds its way into the delicate wiring of the space arm, which then proceeds to give the International Gesture of Displeasure to somewhere in Central America where Carlos will see it and be glad it is not falling on his van. The other reason is that we bought MIR at the Russian space equipment auction and we don't want to share it a whole lot.

So how will we get this wonderful new space station, you ask? Well, the Mental Institute, those talented makers of the Safest Car In The World, have won the rights to build this shining symbol of technology and nifty stuff that the whole world will see when they look up into the sky at night. Earlier on, The SPU took a tour of the Mental Institute's Space Station Division to see exactly how this marvel of space-faring technology is being constructed.

On arrival at the institute, we passed Roy and Bubba, the gate security guards at the Mental Institute, who were busily engaged in an argument over the last donut. We passed by, and entered the construction bay. Before entering, we saw a short video on the making of the station and were almost falling asleep until we got to the part of the video where someone taped Baywatch over the ending. A very enjoyable hour later, we entered the manufacturing floor and were met by the head of production, Mr. Jenkins.

SPU: Mr. Jenkins, how is this space station coming along?
Mr. J: Well, we've had a few minor setbacks, but otherwise it is progressing fine.
SPU: Setbacks? Such as what?
MR. J: Well, we're still awaiting a few screen doors. . .
SPU: Screen doors? On a space station?
MR. J: No. Not on the outside. We're adding those to the arboretum.
SPU: Well, that kind of makes sense. Are there any other setbacks?
MR. J: Well, we've been doing some testing and we've discovered that some of the welding that we used is faulty and is allowing air to escape.
SPU: Really? So how much will you have to re-weld?
MR. J: Well, it's kind of hard to give an exact estimate, but at present. . .all of it.
SPU: Oh. Well, then, we all know of the dramatic problems that are plaguing MIR, and we are all wondering if there is a chance that the systems on this station will break down.
MR. J: Oh no. We have installed the latest in artificial intelligence-augmented computers. In the remote case of a system malfunction, the computer will assist the crew in locating and fixing the systems.
SPU: Well that sounds like it should be safe. Is this computer system tested?
MR. J: Of course. This computer system has been used across the country in such places as universities, power stations, police departments, and automated teller machines.
SPU: Automated teller machines?
MR. J: Yes. They are doing the best performance in those for some reason.
SPU: Well, then. Could you give our readers an exclusive sneak peek at what this station will be named?
MR. J: Oh no. That is the biggest secret of all. Only people that work here know what this station will be named and none of them will ever let the secret out.
SPU: Oh well. Thank you for the interview anyway.
MR. J: No problem.

We then asked the first person we saw to tell us the name of the station. He told us that is was called the Mental Institute Space Station for International Learning and Experimentation. We are doubting that it has an acronym.

We then wandered around the floor, where many trained workers were bustling around, adding pieces to the station, delivering memos, and eating lunch. Here is a written transcript of a small piece of the workday:

"Do we have any escape pods?"
"Who ordered the bologna?"
"Yeah, they're in pod bay #2"
"Carlos, line 4, please. Carlos, line 4"
"Over here!"
"Does it have to print while it's mowing?"
"HAL, open the pod bay doors."
"HEY! I never ordered mustard!"
"Carlos, line 4, please"
"I'm sorry, Dave. I can't do that."
"No, it doesn't even have to mow."
"Does it look like I care if you have mustard?"
"Open the pod bay doors, HAL"
"Nobody told me it didn't have to mow!"
"I'm sorry, Dave. . ."
"Carlos! Pick up line 4!
"Joe! This stupid HAL isn't responding again!"
"Try threatening it. It worked last week."

Well, you get the picture of exactly how busy it is in the world of the Mental Institute Space Station Division. We will hopefully have more reports as we go on, but until then, this is Agent 00-1 saying, "Carlos. We want our space station back. It's no secret you have it. We paid good money for it. Give it back."

Agent 00-1