Setting: A dimly lit Silicon Valley conference room, post-tech summit. The three billionaires are lingering, sipping overpriced coffee, when the topic of rockets comes up.
Elon Musk: (fidgeting with a Tesla keychain, eyes darting) So, uh, guys, I-I-I was thinking, right?
My Starship, it’s, like, the biggest, you know? I mean, 150 meters of pure, uh, thrusting ambition. It’s… it’s basically the ultimate, um, phallic symbol of—of—of human progress. Nobody’s topping that. (nervous laugh) Right?
Mark Zuckerberg: (blinking rapidly,
head tilted like a curious android) Uh, Elon, I… I don’t really get why size matters here. (pauses, stares blankly) My, uh, Blue Origin—wait, no, that’s not mine. (blinks again) I mean, my Meta Space Initiative—it’s not about, like, big rockets. It’s about… connection.
(monotone) Virtual rockets. In the metaverse. You can make your rocket, like, any size in VR. (awkward pause) Isn’t that… cooler?
Jeff Bezos: (leans back, booming laugh, claps hands like he’s selling real estate)
Oh, Zuck, Zuck, Zuck! Virtual rockets? Come on! (grins maniacally) My New Shepard, now that’s a statement. Sleek, reusable, and—let’s be real—sexy as hell. (winks at no one in particular) It’s not just size, boys, it’s presence.
You feel that thrust when it launches. It’s like… (lowers voice) the ultimate alpha move. Elon, your Starship’s big, sure, but does it have charisma?
Elon: (squinting, voice rising) Charisma? Jeff, c’mon, Starship’s gonna colonize Mars! It’s—it’s not just a rocket, it’s a…
A destiny machine! (stammers) Your New Shepard’s, like, what? A tourist taxi? Suborbital joyrides? (snorts) My rocket’s got, uh, girth and purpose. It’s the—the—the biggest penis of progress in history!
Zuck: (tilting head, processing) Penis… metaphors? (blinks)
I… I don’t follow. (flat tone) Why are we talking about this? My metaverse rockets don’t need physical size. They’re, like, infinitely scalable. (pauses, eyes glaze over) I could code a rocket so big it… it crashes the servers. (awkward smile) That’s power, right?
No one gets hurt. No one’s… threatened by size.
Jeff: (slaps table, laughing too loud) Threatened? Zuck, buddy, you’re out of your depth! (leans forward, intense) New Glenn, my next baby—it’s gonna dwarf your little VR toys. 95 meters of raw, American-made dominance.
(smirks at Elon) Sorry, Musk, but my rocket’s got the edge in… let’s call it aesthetic potency. You know what I mean? (waggles eyebrows)
Elon: (visibly annoyed, tapping foot) Aesthetic potency? Jeff, your rocket looks like—like—like a bald eagle had a midlife crisis!
(points finger) Starship’s got scale, it’s got vision. I’m talking 1,200 tons of payload! You—you can’t fake that kind of… of raw masculinity in space! (pauses, blushing) I mean, uh, engineering. Raw engineering.
Zuck: (staring at the wall, muttering) I… I still don’t get why
we’re fighting. (blinks, refocuses) If we’re measuring impact, my AI could simulate a rocket so big it… it blocks out the sun. (deadpan) That’s bigger than both of yours. In a… digital sense. (awkward nod) Also, I’m adding haptic feedback to the metaverse.
So, like… you can feel the rocket. (crickets)
Jeff: (chokes on coffee, recovers with a grin) Haptic feedback? Zuck, you’re killing me! (leans in, stage whisper) Look, boys, let’s be real. My rocket’s the one women and men want to ride. It’s got that Bezos swagger.
(pats own chest) Starship’s a clunky beast, and Zuck’s got… what, a PowerPoint rocket? I win this one.
Elon: (standing up, voice cracking) You—you do not win! Starship’s the biggest, it’s the baddest, it’s—it’s the future!