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Now available for preorder:
The San Francisco Panorama
.

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LIVE FROM
THE APOLLO 11.

BY JIM STALLARD

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July 20, 1969, 10:20 p.m. EDT Interior of Apollo 11 lunar module

Mission Control: Okay Eagle, you're go for the module EVA. We've established visual of the ladder with the external camera. You'll be going out on a live feed so watch your step and keep it clean, gentleman!

Neil Armstrong: (Chuckling) Roger that, Houston. Just mom and apple pie.

Mission Control: Appreciated. You can go when ready. We've all got our fingers crossed on the dust issue.

Armstrong: Come again Houston. The what?

Mission Control: The dust.

Armstrong: What do you mean, the dust? What are you talking about?

Mission Control: Well, apparently there's a chance the dust is pyrophoric and that when you open the door of the module, oxygen will react with the dust and explode.

Armstrong: Oh . . . okay. Wow . . . Was that in the simulations? I don't remember it.

Mission Control: There's been some discussion with some geologists here today − we probably should have done that earlier − but you know how it is.

Armstrong: Mmm . . . . . . .

(90 seconds of silence.)

Armstrong (to Buzz Aldrin) : Gee, I feel kind of guilty now, having you be first. But the suit should protect you.

Aldrin: What do you mean? You're going out first.

Armstrong: No, it's you. I talked about this with Gene when you were asleep on the way out here. We wanted to reward you for all your service.

Aldrin: How dumb do you think I am? You did not talk about this with Gene. You're the mission commander. The commander takes the lead on everything.

Armstrong: You're right. I'm commanding you to go out first.

(30 seconds of silence.)

Aldrin: I didn't sign up for this. Let's decide this fairly. Rock, paper, scissors.

Armstrong: No, I've seen your rock, paper, scissors tricks − you always lag behind by a half-second.

Aldrin: We'll flip a coin.

Armstrong: We don't have a coin. And it would take forever to come down. I'll pick a number between one and ten and then you try to guess it. If you're right, I'll go out.

Aldrin: You're giving me a ten percent chance?

Armstrong: That's under Earth gravity. It's different under moon gravity − you have a 50-50 chance.

Aldrin: Okay. . . well . . . I guess seven.

Armstrong:

Aldrin: I got it didn't I?

Armstrong: . . . . . . . No.

Mission Control: Neil, Gene says to suit up and get out there. The meter's running. You know the audio feed is still on don't you?

Aldrin: The commander is commanded! Not to mention a liar.

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July 20, 1969, 11:16 p.m. EDT Moon surface

Aldrin: This feels so weird! The powder is slippery. Look (jumping up and down). My shoes are made of flubber. (Lopes around in high bouncing steps.)

Armstrong: Stop it. Is your mike off?

Aldrin: Yes. You realize "man" and "mankind" mean the same thing don't you?

Armstrong: I said, "a man. One small step for a man."

Aldrin: Whatever. I thought you'd be in a better mood after not blowing up. (Begins jogging circles around Armstrong in slow motion.)

Armstrong: You need to quit prancing around. Start gathering dust and rocks. They want all kinds of samples.

Aldrin: Yes, master. (Takes a few steps and then kneels.) What in the hell . . . ?

Armstrong: (Comes over) What do you see?

Aldrin: Doesn't that look like . . . droppings? From an animal?

Armstrong: It does, but that can't be right. (Removes a sensor from his belt and inserts it into one lump.) Well, it's warmer than the dust it's sitting on, which makes no sense. (Probes it with finger of spacesuit.) Feels a lot like . . . dog . . . (gags).

Aldrin: Oh no. Don't throw up in your mask because then I'll throw up.

Armstrong: (Steadies himself with a few deep breaths) Okay. If this thing is organic in any way, they'll want to analyze it. Put it in your sample bag.

Aldrin: I'm not touching that, even through a spacesuit.

Armstrong: Well, use something to scoop it up with. Where's that Nixon plaque?

Aldrin: It's bolted to the ladder back on the thing. What are those . . .? (Points to tracks leading away from pile.) Holy Christ on toast. Let's get out of here.

Armstrong: (Staring) . . . I'm with you. . . . Hang on − the camera's going to be pointing this way when we plant the flag. (Erases tracks with his foot.) Apollo 12 can deal with this.

Mission Control: Neil, your audio signal's been going in and out. Did you find something?

(Both men freeze and stare at one another.)

Armstrong: No, Buzz and I were clowning with you. Did you buy it? (Hits button on helmet.)

Aldrin: So your mike −

Armstrong: Save it.

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July 21, 1969, 8:54 p.m. EDT Interior of lunar module

Aldrin: I can't believe you wouldn't do the Iwo Jima thing with me when we planted the flag. When are we ever going to be back here?

Armstrong: I'm not going to act like a 10-year-old. And I saw you do the "hammer throw" when you thought I wasn't looking. If we end up needing that to pound something, you're going out and looking for it.

Aldrin: We won't need it anymore. It's just dead weight. I bet I got more than 500 yards on that toss.

Armstrong: If NASA comes breathing down my neck, you're going to answer for it. It comes out of your paycheck.

Aldrin: Fine, fine, fine. . . . . So . . . about those things we saw. Not a word?

Armstrong: Nobody needs to know.

Aldrin: What about Mike, when we rendezvous? Shouldn't we let him in on it?

Armstrong: No way. He tells his wife everything. It would be on the front page within 12 hours. Now get locked in. When NASA gives the word, I have to push the button with almost no warning.

Aldrin: (Peering out window at moon surface) Goodbye, magnificent desolation . . . Oh my god. Here it −

Armstrong: What?

Aldrin: Push it Push it Push it

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Jim Stallard's
Other Features

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OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:

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Live From The Apollo 11 By Jim Stallard
Traveling Europe in Style With Auckland Dingiroo, Dark-Age Tourist and Critic of Food and Drink: The Pleasure Cruise By John Hallmann
The Bard Hears Back By Tyler Stoddard Smith
Summer's Hottest Notes Placed in Illegally Parked Cars By Nathaniel Missildine
A New Dispatch: Days at the Museum By B.R. Cohen

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