"Pfister, I swear that telescope was pointing at my lunch last Wednesday!"
Bertha scrambled into the dome, a quiche flare gun in hand, ready to defend her three-cheese pie from the prying lens.
Meanwhile, in the shadows...
"Somebody inform the moon that its cheese supply is, um, questionable."
Just a forgetful intern mistaking constellations for catering disasters.
Orbiting the edge of reality, the silent observatory records whispers no more. Its echo chambers have transformed into hallowed halls of half-hearted farce and celestial sitcom.
*Noted in astronomical literature as "*Luna's Gooey Mishap".
"The stars are singing, but I think they're off-key!"
An audit revealed a faulty tuning fork, courtesy of Budgetary Shenanigans Inc.
**The last official observation was filed under "Bloopers by the Bespectacled".
Consult the Flickering Stars Realign the Cheeseboard Constellations