Sometimes, I wonder — if stars could talk, would they complain about celestial traffic? Maybe the Moon gives the Earth nightly updates on the rest of the solar system's gossip.
Is there a nebula equivalent of "read receipts"? Imagine a starlight message said: "Delivered but light-years away from being opened".
The Planetary Cafe has a new drink: Umami Comet. Guaranteed to shoot across your taste buds faster than you can say "stratospheric espresso".
Beneath the outer rim lies humorous oblivion; one where Martian puns and Saturn's rings collide in a dance of quirky gravity.