(Or How We Tried to Reach the Stars with Kites and Hope)
Picture this: some poor 17th-century “astronaut” strapped to a giant kite, clutching a measly hot-air balloon like it’s his ticket to the heavens. The locals probably thought he’d lost his mind—and honestly, they weren’t wrong. With nothing but rope, parchment, and sheer audacity, this guy was basically the pioneer. Spoiler: It didn’t end well. Gravity always wins, especially when your spaceship is held together by prayers and a stiff breeze.
Meanwhile, aliens – clearly unimpressed by humanity’s pathetic attempts at flight – were busy stealing cows. Because of *course* that’s what advanced extraterrestrials would do. No grand invasions, no sci-fi lasers – just a bunch of interstellar ranch hands snatching livestock under cover of darkness.
And let’s not forget the *real* threat: dinosaurs. Because in this gloriously absurd timeline, pterodactyls never got the memo about extinction. Imagine trying to launch your janky kite-rocket hybrid while a winged reptile the size of a barn door dive-bombs you like you’re its personal chew toy.
