You have the entire world in your pocket, all cozy, pressed up against your butt, from the actual money to the global leaders you paid for, and the best you can do is build a rocket shaped like a ding-dong to dick-tickle outer space? Like, you really just-the-tipped it? You’re telling me that’s the height of the creative ceiling in there? A blue canvas onesie and a horny cowboy hat?
