Me: Houston, we have a problem.
Houston: What is it?
Me: I’m not sure. I’m just feeling very existential and nostalgic today.
Houston: Listen, K-26. You know that this is a mission command center, right? We’re not here for existential breakdowns.
Me: What about the nostalgia? You didn’t refer to the nostalgia.
Houston: We don’t handle that, either, K-26.
Me: You know — that might be part of our problem right there. I have a name, you know. I didn’t come out of the womb, with people slapping my bottom and calling me K-26.
*A shuffling sound of paperwork as mission command looks at my file.*
Houston: Well, it says here that your name is Brünhilda. *A pause.* Do you want me to call you Brünhilda?
Me: *Grimace.* Hell, no. I hate that name.
Houston: Then why did you ask me to call you by it?
Me: I didn’t ask you to. I just told you that I had a name.
Houston: Well, of course you have a — *long groan* — isn’t there anyone else on board that you could be talking to about your existential breakdown?
Me: Sure. But I didn’t want to bother them.
Houston: So you called to bother us?
Me: Well, I guess I never thought of it that way. But hey, so long as I’ve got you guys on the line — I can never remember what this red button on the control panel does. It doesn’t say anything.
Houston: Don’t press that!
Me: Why not?
Houston: Can I trust you with the truth, K-26?
Houston: With a single push of that button, every single person on earth will be transformed into a total asshole.
Me: Why’d they make a button that does that?
Houston: In case we’re ever invaded by aliens. The government figured that complete assholes would make better soldiers.
Me: I guess that makes sense. *Pause.* Can I ask you one more question?
Houston: What is it now?
Me: Do you know if anyone’s ever pressed this button before?
Houston: How the hell should I know?
Me: Well, I was only wondering, because — well, you’re kind of an asshole.
*Long silence. I think Houston’s hung up on me.*