The heavens quivered as she dropped it, a cosmic sigh echoed, "Not again!" The nebulae shuffled nervously, while the planets rolled their proverbial eyes, having learned this the hard way many aeons prior.
Stars began to clusters, regrouping under dubious advisement – all threaded mistakes of celestial misadventures. The North Star flipped the South Star off, unaware they were part of a quasar's comedy act.
"Sewing stars is like knitting fog," said Orion after a few haphazard attempts at celestial alteration. "It just ends up looking tangled and a bit damp."
The Moon sighed, "I remember the last time someone tried to fix the sky. We ended up with a patchwork cosmos and a black hole that never returned its calls."