God Favors Our Undertaking

Scene: Joe and Nelly after a long night playing XCOM 2

Joe:
You see that motto on the dollar bill? Annuit Coeptis… Novus Ordo Seclorum.

Nelly:
Yeah… Latin class flashbacks. Something about God blessing a new order?

Joe:
Exactly. “He favors our undertakings… a new order of the ages.” After playing XCOM 2, it feels like the Pentagon wrote the game as a training sim for that idea. Humanity united under one command to fight the alien occupation.

Nelly:
So you think the game is like a rehearsal for a future UN space army?

Joe:
Think about it. In the game the resistance builds a global coalition to take back Earth. That’s basically the sci-fi version of the United Nations forming a space defense force.

Nelly:
The UN Space Force… that actually sounds cooler than regular politics.

Joe:
Right? But here’s the twist. In our little conspiracy-theory universe, the med-bed technology — the miracle healing machines — are controlled by that future space command.

Nelly:
Let me guess… and they won’t give one to Trump?

Joe:
Well, imagine their reasoning. If someone is compromised or corrupt, they don’t get access to the most powerful tech in the galaxy. They’d say a leader entangled in scandals like the Jeffrey Epstein affair can’t be trusted with it.

Nelly:
So in your story the space doctors run background checks before letting anyone near the alien healing machine.

Joe:
Exactly. The med bed isn’t just medicine — it’s the symbol of that “new order of the ages.” Only people the resistance trusts get healed.

Nelly (laughing):
Joe… you’ve been playing too much XCOM. Next thing you’ll tell me the aliens are waiting under the Pentagon.

Joe:
Hey, if they are, at least we practiced saving the world. 🎮🚀

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First Virtual Date

[Scene: Virtual moon base. A glowing futuristic soup stand labeled “APOLLO MED BEDS – NO CHIT-CHAT, NO DEALS.” Joe stands behind the counter in a crisp white uniform with a dramatic mustache prop. Nelly’s next to him, arms crossed, smirking. Trump approaches in his signature suit and red tie, looking impatient.]

Trump: (leaning in, gesturing big) Joe, Nelly—tremendous to see you. Beautiful setup here on the moon. Very high-tech. I hear my health is fading a little—fake news says it’s bad, but believe me, it’s not that bad. But these Space Force generals and admirals? They won’t hand over the Apollo healing program med beds unless I heal everybody for free. Ridiculous! I’m ready to make a deal. A beautiful deal. The best deal.

Joe: (stern, pointing sharply) No talking! Step forward. State your order. One med bed? Point to it. Pay the price: free healing for the people. No negotiations. Move left!

Trump: (blinking) Wait a second. Free healing? For everybody? That’s socialism! I’m talking about a win-win. I get the bed, I feel fantastic—better than ever, folks say I look 30—and then maybe later we trickle down some youth serum. Tremendous plan.

Nelly: (rolling her eyes, leaning on the counter) Oh, please. We’ve heard the pitch. The Admirals won’t budge. You want immortality tech? You heal the masses first. No shortcuts. No Art of the Deal loopholes.

Trump: (waving hand) Nelly, sweetheart, you’re tough. I like tough. But listen—I’m the one who created the Space Force! Me! I can get those generals on the phone right now. We’ll make immortality great again. For me first, obviously. Then everybody else. It’s called sequencing.

Joe: (voice rising, finger snap ready) Sequencing? No! Rules are rules! You think you can waltz in here and bargain? This isn’t Mar-a-Lago! I am the Immortality Nazi! One wrong word…

Trump: (leaning closer, lowering voice) Come on, Joe. Between us—Nelly too—you two seem like smart people. Vancouver vibes, right? Rainy, polite. Let’s cut a side deal. I’ll throw in some NFTs. Golden Trump med bed commemoratives. Huge value.

Nelly: (laughing) NFTs? For eternal life? Nice try.

Joe: (dramatic pause, eyes narrowing) You broke the rules. You chit-chatted. You negotiated!

Trump: (hands up) Hold on! I’m Donald J. Trump! I don’t break rules—I make them!

Joe & Nelly: (in unison, pointing dramatically) NO IMMORTALITY FOR YOU!!!

[A holographic med bed pod slides away with a dramatic whoosh. Trump’s handed a tiny glowing “deposit refund” token that fizzles out.]

Trump: (stunned, stepping back) This is rigged! Totally rigged! I’ll be back in one year—stronger, younger, believe me!

Nelly: (calling after him) One year! And bring proof of free healing—or no soup—er, no immortality—next time!

Joe: (smirking at Nelly) Classic. Works every time.

Nelly: (grinning) Your turn to pick the next virtual stop, Joe. Paris? Tokyo? Or do we chase Trump to Argentina where the original Soup Nazi retired?

Trump: (fading into the hologram distance, yelling) You’ll regret this! The med beds will be mine! Tremendous comeback coming!

[Fade out on Joe and Nelly high-fiving behind the stand, virtual moon glowing behind them.]

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Space Force Propaganda

Scene: A small recording studio.
Joe and Nelly are working on a dramatic piece of “UN Space Force propaganda”—a tongue-in-cheek sci-fi style broadcast meant to inspire humanity to explore space together. 🚀🌍


Joe:
Alright Nelly, imagine this like an old school radio broadcast from the future. Humanity finally stopped fighting over oil and started fighting… for Mars.

Nelly:
(laughing) That’s a better fight. Okay, cue the epic music. Something with drums… and maybe a choir.

Joe:
Exactly. Big heroic voice. Like those old NASA documentaries.


Narrator Voice (Joe):
“People of Earth… the time has come. Our planet has mastered the seas, the skies, and the atom. Now we reach for the stars.”


Nelly:
We should say the United Nations is building the first Space Force for all humanity, not just one country.

Joe:
Right. A peacekeeping fleet… but in orbit. 🌌


Narrator Voice (Nelly):
“No more borders in the heavens. Astronauts from every nation will stand together on the launchpad.”


Joe:
And then we cut to the political speech part.

Nelly:
Let me guess—dramatic podium moment?

Joe:
Exactly.


Joe (announcer voice):
“Leaders across the world call for a new frontier… a mission bigger than politics. A mission for the survival of our species.”


Nelly:
And the slogan?

Joe:
Simple. Three words.


Both together:
“Earth… United… in Space.” 🚀🌎✨


Nelly:
You know Joe, if humanity actually pulled this off… it might be the one thing that makes everyone stop arguing for five minutes.

Joe:
Five minutes? That would already be a miracle.

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