Once there was a boy who flew to the moon. It was an independent venture; American, European, Russian, and Chinese space agencies refused to acknowledge his achievement. None of them had aided in the construction of his spaceship and equipment, and none had provided him any training. Undaunted, the boy had a grand time on the moon, playing enthusiastically with the moonmen and delighting in the effects of a planet with 1/6 of Earth's gravity. He drank up the moonwater and devoured mooncandy. He stayed on the moon a long while, as he was quite a small boy and had not considered the possibility of a return trip. After successfully enslaving the moonmen, the boy had them write "BRING ME HOME, PLEASE" in giant letters on the moon's surface. NASA noticed the plea first, but could not get government clearance to aid the boy. The European Space Agency ignored the boy's request as well. The Russians and the Chinese simply could not be bothered. The boy gave up, and he went back to eating mooncandy and drinking moonwater. The moonmen worshipped the boy as a god, and he had everything he wanted. Eventually, though, the boy ate up all the mooncandy and sucked down the last of the already sparse moonwater. The moonmen began to starve and thirst to death en masse, and soon the boy was alone. This was approximately a year after he had first arrived, and in that time, the moonmen had managed to modify his spacecraft enough to allow him to head back to Earth.

However, moonmen are not rocket scientists, and the boy and his spaceship burned up upon reentry.

The moral of the story is this: don't go to the moon. It sucks.

By the way, Person who Keeps Finding Supernouveau by Googling 'Pancreas Sucking Wombat': what the fuck?