A young gleeIan boy and his gleelan father are outside around their home, lying on the grassy, smooshed ground, looking at the stars. The young boy gets up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around his knees, holding his head down. His father suddenly noticed how his son is acting, thus he comes over to his son, putting one hand over his right shoulder, and asks: “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

The young boy replies to his father saying, “I feel small when I look up at the stars. I feel like just a worthless speck compared to all of the stars, all of the planets, all of the galaxies out there. I feel like we are nothing, dad. Nothing but just a bunch of random specks on a speck planet smaller than all the other speck planets, stars galaxies out there. Just nothing.” His father, when hearing about how his son feels, grins and replies, “Why, Nathan, of course there are tons of other planets, stars, and galaxies in life. Some we may already know and see, and some we have never seen, known, or heard of before. Why, of course there are tons of other species, other animals, besides us humans and our adorable, furry companions, like our “wittle” sweetie cat-berus Neo, living on those planets and in those galaxies. That, however, does not mean that any of those species living on those planets and in those galaxies don’t matter. And it does not mean that just because there are so many other galaxies, species, planets, and so many other living or existing things that we mean less or nothing.” The son gets his head out of his crossed arms and looks at his father with lowered eyes, an overall very blank expression, with an eyebrow raised, and asks, “Really? You think that I’m gonna believe that, because you’re my ‘wise old man that knows everything about life?’ My dad who I can ‘always’ trust?” The son says in a clearly very sarcastic tone. The father just laughs loudly. Very loudly, a deer and a squirrel hiding in the trees hear the laughter and stop, but then go back to whatever they do hidden in the woods. “Oh, Nathan,” his father says, “are you mad at me for making you believe that Santax Clausen and the Weaxton Buunny were real?” His son replies, “No. I just feel like you’re lying to me about the whole galaxy, species, we still matter bullshit. I mean, if every species, every galaxy, every, you know, whatever are all the same and are all small, then does that mean nothing matters?” his son said in a very dispiriting, saddening tone. The father quickly replies, “Nathan, what I was trying to say was that everyone and everything the same, not the same, kind of the same, not at all the same mentally, emotionally, socially, intrapersonally, interpersonally, psychologically, scientifically, mathematically, musically, artistically, athletically, stylistically, romantically, manly, strongly, cowardly, intellectually, ignorantly, womanly, ethically, sexually, statistically, medically, educationally, personally, lovingly, disturbingly, immaturely, maturely, cruelly, kindly, positively, negatively, religiously, not religiously, awkwardly, confidently, logically, humanly, animal-like, robotically, of a high status, of a low status, that are tall, that are short, normally, and weirdly on every planet, in every galaxy, in every system that contain all those planets and galaxies and universes all have one thing in common: They each have their own purpose and value that makes all of these life-forms, animals, and things who or what they are!” His father had to stop talking for a short while to take a breath from what he said until he can continue talking. His father managed to get himself back together to continue. “So, kid,” his father said getting up and holding his son’s hand so that his son could get up, “just remember that everything and everyone from here, far from here, way far from here, way, way far from here, close to here, closer, farther, there, out there, just everywhere will always be at least something in life, never nothing.” His father says with a big, reassuring smile to ensure his son’s confidence and his sense of thinking of the world and everything else around him. His son turned his head upwards to the shimmeringly bright and beautiful night skies, and then looked at his dad and says “Okay, dad, I guess you’re right about this stuff.” His son said with a small, genuine smile, that isn’t entirely certain, but is happy nonetheless. “Yeah, I’m right! I’m right as hell, and I know it!” His dad said as he and his son walk back to their house. As they are walking, his son then says something, “Dad, what if there are some aliens on some other planet about to talk about what we talked about when we were stargazing?” His son asked. The father replies, “Well, unfortunately, I don’t know, but that would be pretty cool. Right?” His son replies, “Uh, Yeah. Yeah, it would be, uh, kinda cool.”

On a faraway planet where an another alien species called the neuglobians and robots live together like humans and animals, a buff, dark-haired, green-skinned alien is stargazing with his thin, glasses-wearing, also green-skinned son with their robot pet named Bongo, a large, wide, loud, robotic Dalmatian. The alien’s son then says out of the blue, “Dad, don’t you ever wonder how- Bongo, No!” The alien’s son stops talking and instead gets up and runs to his dog, so his dog can stop pissing on some small, one-eyed T.Rexie that grows blades from its fingers and opens his mouth, invariably opening another even bigger mouth when attacked. “No, Bongo! Dammit, what the shit?! No pissing on any Rexie!” The alien son shouted. The alien’s dad saw this and laughed to himself. “Ah, reminds me of when I used to do that when I was a neuglobian child,” said the alien’s father.