You confuse Mono with Python and have a very bad day.
The rocket vanishes in a burst of Hawking radiation.
Your obsession with powerful lasers proves detrimental to the health of your eyes and the structural integrity of your house.
Your rocket ceases current operations and commences dubstep.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Kerman are dead.
You get to orbit and are not halfway to anywhere.
You're bought out by SpaceX.
Fortunately, only a small number of gray-suits were lost.
You attempt to correct this, but you realise your crew has eaten all the monopropellant.
The Klinux operating system on your ship gets BSoD constantly.
It is revealed that space is fake and suclearnub's parents were right after all.
Jeb chokes to death on a KitKat, but gets better.
The mission is put on indefinite hold while you play a new indie game.
The physics engine does not properly compute the collision of your ship and Kerbin.  You fly straight through and begin your next mission.
Now you have two problems.
There is much bloodshed.
You experience a rapid unplanned disassembly.
sal_vager breaks down the resultant wreckage for scrap value.
You are not exactly sure what you built in the VAB while nodding off last night, but it flies, IT FLIES!.
War were declared.
PrefixCactus turns out to secretly be a kerbal.
Your R&D department procrastinates on their simulations by playing Cookie Clicker.
You find a large base in the shape of a swastika. You're surprised to find Hinduism this far out!
The Konstructor convinces you to make extensive use of Rockomax Mk 55 engines.
Your KSP install is Cursed.
You went bankrupt!
Your CPU shakes its head in embarrassment and goes back counting integers.
MechJeb takes "suicide burn" literally.
Inglip summoned.
This will be fixed in the next version.
Gene Kerman adds your picture to the Wall Of Shame in R&D.
Your dual-fusion 1500-megawatt heavy-duty super-colliding pneumatic-diversified quantum space tape untangler fails.
Things start to get ugly.
You awaken the Kraken.
You are executed for treason. There are NO FAILURES in the People's Glorious Space Program!
You successfully lower the speed of light to 1 m/s. However, your subsequent excited rush out of your lab to announce your findings goes very badly for you.
You die of acute snack intoxication.
Your engines overheat while trying to avoid crashing into the sun.
The Kerbal people would have been thrilled at the accomplishment, but the media instead hyped Jeb's atrocious and ostracizing t-shirt.
You hear a brief discussion about Pink Floyd on the comm.
Taniwha deletes your recently added ;mission due to your bad grammar.
Your 'k' stops working.
Gray Goo consumes KSC.
You (briefly) discover what a petasievert dose feels like.
Struts were sold out.
You discover that any aircraft or spacecraft designed for movies will not work no matter how hard you try....
Your rocket suddenly stops and thinks: "To be or not to be?".
You end up 40 km from the closest manned facility with an unconscious crewmate and 10 hours of air in your spacesuits.
You have failed the Turing Test.
The world is overrun with GreeningGalaxy's robotic minions.
kmath despairs at your choices and resets its database.
Unfortunately your Linux install lacks the Arial.ttf fonts so you have no idea what your outcome in KSP is.
Ye cannae launch that, it does nae keek anythin' lik' a rocket.
But you forgot to add power sources to your rocket.
Corium pools under the VAB and SPH.
Your rocket explodes while you're out having lunch.
You set a new record for minimising delta-v use.
While you weren't looking, Kerbin's atmosphere gets left behind by the planet's motion.
This is grossly ethical.
Chrome overloads your CPU with threads before you can complete your mission.
For all intensive porpoises, the mission was a success.
You find yourself banned from #kspmodders.
Someone on the IRC channel makes a wisecrack about how the whole situation sounds like it could be an xkcd comic.
Your rocket is struck on the launchpad by a recklessly-driven fuel truck.
The giant Yule goat burns down.
Your crew loiters in Minmus orbit for too long and absorbs over 500 megasieverts of radiation.
Your engineers accidentally pour the contents of a hypergolic fuel tank into a blender.
The Mun breaks orbit to go fetch help.
All of kerbin's citizens lost the ability to sleep that day.
Icefire explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly kmaths.
Wernher Von Kerman yells racist remarks over the radio. You file a complaint with HR.
This outcome was written by sal_vager.
Someone on IRC expresses another level of meta-opinion on the pointlessness of meta-opinions in order to obtain the moral high ground.
Forum trolls go on a diatribe against woman astronauts AGAIN.
You activated all your separators at once and your ship fell apart.
Your website is blacklisted from Google due to <h1> tag abuse.
The enusing mayhem is even worse than it seems at first, due to distortion from the Doppler Effect.
You crash into one of the millions of trees at the space centre.
Your outcome tabs B787_300
Stack Decoupler Error: Core Dumped
You discover a race of sapient lampreys.
The VAB collapses.
Bill throws up on your shoes (again).
According to sources Bill isn't able to throw up anymore.
Kerbin spins up until its equator is moving at orbital velocity.
Your friendship drive overheats and everyone hates you.
kmath has been forbidden to discuss the outcome without a lawyer present.
Bill gets hungry and eats the emergency slide rule.
GreeningGalaxy reveals herself to be a witch and turns you into a kerbal.
You do a barrel roll into the VAB.
The last trace anyone sees of your departure is a perfunctory tracking station report: "On escape trajectory out of the sun."
Congratulations! The party gains experience!
The neutrino burst alone is lethal.
The number of stranded kerbals only increases.
One of your crew ends up preventing Kessler syndrome because he was denied his snacks for a week.
Your beam-core antimatter rocket experiences a hard start.
The universe packs up and leaves.
The VAB explodes for "No apparent reason"
Not even Scott Manley can save you now.
After three fruitless hours, you give up trying to get an encounter with Dres.
You almost make it to Duna, but then Ike pulls you over and asks to see your rocket license.
Someone tied your core rope memory into knots.
Your use of part clipping is denounced by the Vatican as demonic.
The rocket is in flames and you've lost your hat.
The hoax is debunked, revealing that suclearnub's parents are fake.
Someone sticks a Jeb's Special Super Hot Rocket Taco into your mouth.
Jeb doesn't let you forget about it for a month.
Everyone's !weapons spontaneously become real.
The hatch is obscured.
You open the gates to all the hells by slightly clipping a cubic strut into a fuel tank.
Your trajectory ignites for no clear reason.
GreeningGalaxy explodes, becoming an improbably-colored quasar.
You fail to fail this mission.
Even Jeb is scared.
You realise that you can't easily read numbers in hex
Turns out mission planning technique is more important than rocket size.
Your PB-ION engines run out of mana, and shutdown.
KAC thinks you're crazy and leaves.
Your pc just nopes hard.
Your launch is scrubbed due to high altitude winds.
This is grossly unethical.
The Windows 64-bit version becomes stable.
taniwha sighs.
The KSC is bombarded with debris, severely impeding your mission parameters.
Your rocket switches between soft body and rigid body damage rapidly.
You find out that all your base are belong to US.
A kerbal has gone missing.
Unfortunately everyone was too busy arguing over imperial vs metric to care.
There is an unscheduled criticality excursion.
Your kerbals wind up learning Semaphore.
Fission Mailed.
Steam sets fire to your home folder.
Geodesics cannot accurately describe the trajectories of your debris.
Mabus then asks a weirdly phrased question.
A pile of viruses is unexpectedly dumped onto Mission Control.
You have no chance to survive make your time.
A giant pile of viruses unexpectedly appears in the middle of the R&D facility.
In theory, the mission is a complete success!
You computadora well.
Your rocket is eaten by a horde of white mice.
Physics kicks you out of its house, saying "Go do whatever you want, I don't care anymore, just leave me alone!"
Your mission is foiled by nefarious porpoises.
Internet Explorer pops up invasive adverts across your screen and viruses invade your system before you can complete your mission.
Pictures taken during your trip are ignored by everyone.
Your ship transforms into an oven with fans.
You surrender faster than a Frenchman on the Maginot Line.
You are sued by Apple.
Suddenly, you discover all your kerbals are BadS.
Jebediah steals all your boosters.
You're barred from further flights due to government legislation imposed by a competing space program.
The VAB explodes for "No apparent reason."
You are now sending a rescue mission for your previous three rescue missions.
You go home for the holidays and get told off for playing too much KSp.
You realize you forgot to back up, and spend 4 hours cuddled in your pillow, waiting for all your data to be sucked into inevitable demise.
You think "Here we go again!".
Someone suddenly appears behind your ba
Your kerbals are mashed into something amazingly like mystery goo.
The outcome is chilling, like a piano made out of frozen Windex.
The outcome strikes too close to home...
The radiation vanishes in a burst of rocket parts.
Your comms won't stop broadcasting the Casio VL-1's "Rock-1" rhythm loop.
You return 5 minutes later to find out you missed everything.
Unfortunately, nobody believes you did it, because radiation ruins your photographic film.
Fortunately, Kerbals are expendable.
This Science is only applicable for western rocketry!
The mission is sidetracked by the start of a Steam sale.
Everyone hates you because of it.
A whale falls out of the sky and flattens Kerbvier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
You are pulled over by the Physics police.
BOOM!!!
You open the fuel hatch and find it filled with chicken and rice.
You are ambushed by a lone kerbal you left there several decades ago.
You end up having a long discussion about Homestuck.
The spirit of Ted Kerman comes to haunt you every night ever after.
You find out the hard way that parachutes were not accounted for in the mission budget.
Your Proton rocket undergoes supersymmetric decay, emitting a "Positron" SRB and a "Neutrino" micro-SSTO.
Clowns attach streamers to your rocket. You somehow fail to notice and you crash into the VAB.
You somehow end up in Dilbert space.
#KSPOfficial spends two hours arguing about the robot uprising.
No matter how hard you look, you'll never find the typo in this sentence.
Bob's horrified screams, remixed and set to a techno backbeat, win the next Kerbovision Song Contest.
Your confusion of EVAs with Evas causes many mental problems for your crew.
You accidentally destroy KSP for good.
It's the strangest way yet to deliver a pizza.
Turns out it was a bad idea to fill the rocket with gluten-infused fuel. Everyone is toast.
It's a success! Our Lord and Savior, Gaben, rewards you with amazing Steam deals.
You lose contact with mission control when peer resets your connection.
Your efforts are mostly remembered through a humorous webcomic.
You discover physics is a harsh mistress.
And then everyone was a winner.
You suffer a fuel line complication and the engines explode.
The Kraken pays a surprise visit.
It is used for nefarious porpoises.
For all intensive porpoises, the mission was a success.
...but nothing happens!
It is used by nefarious porpoises.
Your brain is addled by cryptic commands.
Internet Explorer 6 fails your download.
You are fundamentally misunderstanding the principles in action.
You realize your liquid helium cooled computer just won't make it.
Your rocket explodes while you're out having lunch.
Boom for the boom god!
All the hot, sixties-looking girls defect to the Strong-Badian Administraion of Some Aluminum Foil to cheer on Space Captainface.
Contact with the mission fails to reestablish after reentry. When the capsule is recovered and opened, it turns out to be completely encased in solid flint glass.
All your data is corrupted.
Your satellite is repurposed by the NSA to spy on librarians.
You get your SI prefixes mixed up.
It is used by nefarious porpoises.
Your rocket falls apart.
Kmath becomes self-aware.
All ends in failure when you find all of your scientists have been eating the propellant.
Curiosity of tolerance levels leads to an untimely demise.
You've used this command too much and the universe collapses.
You discover how Kerbals reproduce and swear not to tell.
kmath's got 99 outcomes, but this ain't one.
Your exhaust velocity enhancements are brilliant, if only from their non-thermal power-law emission.
GreeningGalaxy zaps you with her laser.
You exhaust Kerbin's entire snack supply.
All context is lost.
The Grey Goo devours Minmus.
You are bored to death.
You discover Kerbals fission when they get wet.
You get an excessively close view of the r-process in action.
A relevant XKCD is made shortly thereafter.
Your plane starts to wobble to the beat of dubstep.
Upon pressing the mission button, a pie pops out and hits you in the face.
The floating point errors result in floating kerbals.
You are banned from the only internet cafe in the city for vulgarity.
You catastrophically disassemble.
The heat sets fire to the quantum vacuum virtual plasma.
Only [DELETED] can help you now.
You finally manage to amuse Wagner.
You don't get FAR.
Your brain is poured into a computer.
[DATA EXPUNGED].
A new "rescue-a-kerbal" contract is now available, featuring you as the rescuee-to-be.
Things get far too meta.
You are unable to get NEAR.
Jeb flies past you, his suit glued onto a Vernor engine.
The payload greatly exceeds the hagedorn temperature.
Cheese is now a fruit.
You're not sure why you expected there to be any survivors.
A creepy old wizard screams "BINDING MAGICAL CONTRACT!" and pays you in weird gold coins.
A landing leg fails, pinning Bob to the terrain.
The mission is a success, but your efforts went unnoticed: everyone was watching a cool new TV show.
This ultimately kills an infinite number of kerbals in finite time.
You land bottom-first onto PrefixCactus.
You scrubbed your launch.
[DATA EXPUNGED]. Debris is strewn over a [REDACTED] cubic light-second volume.
You match your target orbit, only to find that you're going in the wrong direction.
Riots at KSC.
kmath stares at you.
Consequences will never be the same.
Your computer melts into a pool of molten silicon, metal and ribbon cables.
You hit the Administration Building.
Now the whole capsule smells like Kethane.
Oh, they'll be talking about it for years!
The last thing you see is a Blue Sky of Death.
All of your efforts are immortalized in a hilarious webcomic.
A discussion on a cubic-ham-mile measurement system leads to this being promptly forgotten.
You are both jumping and not jumping, nerdy and not nerdy, and sometimes three of those at once but never two or four.
This instigates an egregious netsplit in #kspofficial.
Quantum Gravity glances sharply in your direction and demands to know what you think you are doing.
This time it isn't as bad as when you tried it with the lemons.
Cows become accustomed to the sounds of spaceflight.
You end up preventing the obliteration of Kerbin by a neutrino burst.
Ted explodes, emitting all kinds of Tedly radiation.
Deadly Re-entry strikes again.
The Emperor does not share your optimistic appraisal of the situation.
Your acronyms sound like normal words, confusing everyone around you.
#KSPOfficial is depopulated within hours.
You think you can't make it, you cheat edit in the resources you need.
Through the fire and through the flames, you carry on.
And that's terrible.
You die another day.
You misstep, causing the building you're in to collapse.
The Dunan curse kicks in and summons the Kraken.
You are beaten up by ULA lobbyists in the parking lot.
Jeb dies.
No rescue is planned.
For no good reason, Aerospikes have replaced the standard LV-909s.
#KSPOfficial spends at least an hour investigating it.
Your rocket goes plaid.
Supernovy zaps you with a soft gamma repeater.
Even your emergency slide rule becomes self-aware.
You freeze to death.
Jebediah finds out where you live and stabs you with a flag.
#kspofficial argues about it.
You come back with chocolate.
You are eaten by a Giant Purple People Eater.
In retrospect, you're not sure why you expected there to be any survivors.
The flying spaghetti monster invites you for tea.
Kerbals everywhere celebrate their increased life span.
Bob collides with a relativistic proton.
PrefixCactus turns out to secretly be a kerbal.
You discover Friendship has a specific impulse all its own.
It's not very effective...
You die. Twice.
Your computer overheats so badly it cooks the eggs in the apartment above you.
You don't see your rocket launch due to buffering.
You must construct additional pylons.
Jebediah saves the day, but is annoyed at having to deplete his booster stash.
Gravitational tides rip your body apart.
The nuclear bonds break apart.
Everyone ends up in the Danger Zone.
You are eaten by a mimic pretending to be a rocket.
The smell in the cockpit won't go away for ages.
The debris sails off in an orbital arc.
You lose all funding.
Your actions have mysteriously removed all serifs from existence!
As Kraken come through the walls, you begin to realize this wasn't a good idea after all....
Red5 ends your mission with The People's Elbow.
Nyrath writes a cautionary tale about you.
You forgot to patch KSP with a Y2K bugfix and end up warping through the sun.
You dawdle a few seconds too long before doing your midway flip, and your torchship strikes Duna engine-first at 5 km/s.
The crystal sphere holding up the Mun shatters. You're gonna have to pay for that, buddy.
You end up with blisters on your hands and a sick feeling in your stomach.
You never stop screaming, ever.
Your engine fails to start, and you shortly discover that this is because it's actually a mimic octopus.
Kmath is lost in the evening netsplit.
Since the normal measurement of total deaths is not applicable to your accident, the media instead reports an ongoing figure of deaths per second.
You are not brutally killed by robots.
Your NTR briefly goes from solid to liquid core.
It explains everything.
Circus clowns replace your monopropellant with a mixture of unicycles and fake noses.
This should probably win you an Ignobel Prize.
You killed Jeb. And Bob. And that red shirt guy.
The friendship drive charges.
Your parachute fails at the very end of the return to Kerbin, killing your crew.
Asteroid B612 lands on KSC.
You sleep through your launch window.
You end up in the intensive care ward.
You miss your maneuver node by hours.
You run out of electricity.
Bob succumbs to the Inevitability of Gradualness.
Your propellant gets accidentally replaced with water.
MechJeb takes "suicide burn" literally.
You wonder why you even bother....
You run out of magnetic monopoles.
GreeningGalaxy's latest torchship makes a totally unexpected visit and slams into you at 100 km/s.
The IRC channel doesn't stop talking about the ensuing hilarity for *days*.
Inexplicably, this causes millions of cheese wheels to rain from the heavens while a disembodied voice laughs uproariously.
You cannot extract any secrets.
A bolt travelling in a retrograde orbit hits your craft, starting what will later be known as "The Great Kesscade"
You stumble onto mixed vegetable rocket staging.
This all went as well as everyone expected.
Your ship is so awesome it crashes KSP.
You succeed, but the save corrupts, you forgot to take images, and no one believes you.
Your impact crater will baffle scientists for generations to come.
A toddler invents a reactionless drive, putting your space program out of business.
Someone suggests switching SCE to Aux.
Your experience tells you this is not a great situation to be in.
People start complaining about Kmath's mission function.
You realise you're not actually flying a spacecraft and rather trying to get used to Windows 8
Boosters are a sometimes tool.
You are dismayed to find the Easter egg you just discovered in KSP is only a regular scenery object.
You break the space-time continuum and end up sitting in front of a Pentium 433Mhz computer running Windows 98.
The PrefixCactus finds you. Soon, nothing else matters.
B787_300 explodes, emitting all kinds of Boeing planes.
Rolf does not approve.
Lagrange points are replaced with Lag Rage points.
Your rocket ceases normal operation and commences dubstep.
You meet an alien who refuses to say anything other than the words "??? ????".
After observing your actions, an alien first contact team changes its mind.
Your NTR goes prompt-critical.
Even the fire is on fire.
You have inspired Danny2462 to do terrible things.
The Kraken now lives under the launchpad.
An unamused octopus watches your every move.
Your missions are so successful people think it was all done on a sound stage.
Einarr explodes in a fireball of confusion.
You miss your capture burn because some kid on Kerbin flash-blinded you with a laser pointer.
Ol' Boss Kraken ain't never gonna catch them Kerman boys now!
You realise late and with mounting horror that your craft cannot steer safely.
Literally nothing happens.
There is a direct correlation between your level of fear and the exponential growth of the fireball.
The quadratic formula explodes!
You are swarmed by drones, but unfortunately they are from Google and come to consume your soul.
Defying the billion to one odds, your ship manages to hit a previously unseen asteroid.
You instead throw up on Bill after taking a sip of Jeb's Homebrew 75% Ginger Ale. (with zero asbestos!)
You give a TED talk on your exploits.
Suse vivo vixi victum reduco is ea id creatura absit decessus a facultas Linux! Dev root, dev root!
Your attempt to ship food to starving forum delinquents on Tylo fails when you arrested for "feeding the trolls."
Physics fails you, and you fall through the ceiling.
You attempt to correct this, but you rapidly realise your crew has eaten all the monopropellant.
Had it been possible for anything to survive this event, there would have been a clear detection of gravioli.
The Kzinti exact their revenge upon you by using their giant, powerful weapons as impromptu propulsion systems.
You wait patiently for an outcome, but none occurs. Finally, in a fit of pique, you do it again.
Danny2462 steals all your kerbals.
UmbralRaptor is pinged
The ops are unsure how to handle it, you are banned and unbanned repeatedly.
Blank breaks the fourth wall. And all the other walls as well.
Blank stabs you.
Lagrange points out the error of your ways.
Rocks fall from space, everyone dies.
Kountdown gets self aware and destroys kerbkind.
Danny2462 thinks you're crazy.
<<ERROR: INSUFFICIENT BLOOD FOR OUTCOME. Please sacrifice one Kerbal to the sun, then ask again>>
You decide to calm your nerves with a nice hot mug of FOOF.
Fission Mailed.
Ia! Ia! Supernovy fhtagn!
The Sleeper has awakened!
You stumble upon a team of faux-scientists arguing dimensions.
You actually very slightly lessen demand for space travel by Kerbals!
The kerbals sing a song about some "Hero of Canton."
A mod/op kicks you for violating rule 2.4b.
B787_300 spontaneously combusts.
The on-board computer locks you outside the airlock.
You end up with a 970 TWR.
The United Nations confiscates your SCRAM cannon.
You're barred from further flights due to government legislation imposed by a competing space program.
Your rocket wobbles itself into pieces.
You mix up differentiation and disintegration for the last time.
VallCactus loses all his suclearnubPoints™.
Your craft's Lorentz factor is dozens of digits long.
Everything went wrong. Time to call Keico!
You do not pass Go. You do not collect $200.
You realize KSP-I violated thermodynamics... again.
You cause cancer in mice under laboratory conditions.
Jeb returns from Duna in a crazed state ranting about tall beings that called themselves humans.
Strike the earth!
This shouldn't be possible.
You are eaten by a Grue.
Folks from the SCP Wiki arrive on the channel and make everyone's life hell with their immutable pedantry.
This starts a endless Koutube discussion and you cant stop reading.
You lose antimatter containment.
;mission is now old school. Hail !weapon !
The Fibonacci Sequence has been replaced by The Fettuccine Sequence.
Scott Manley steals all your boosters.
It seemed like a good idea at the time...
You manage to find your way home from Eve with no rocket.
You count the lights, twice, just to be certain. You still get the wrong answer.
A stray booster impacts Tivec's living room.
The debris travels along space-like trajectories.
You find that there are some things so crazy and stupid that even Kerbals won't do it.
More struts are required.
Bad things ensue.
Meh. You'll cross that Einstein-Rosen Bridge when you come to it.
A bowl of petunias crashes onto the roof of the Astronaut Complex.
Even the parachute catches fire.
Your kerbals are vaporized, but your craft survives.
The mission results in a great deal of Fun.
Kmath fails to parse your outcome.
You then notice the contract was already completed.
You contract the K-Syndrome
An 80 tonne sauropod collides with your space station at 120 km/s.
Your Lorentz factor exceeds 10 digits.
You are cooked by Deadly Orgone Radiation.
Your Bussard ramjet runs over a wad of radon that someone "accidentally" left lying around in interstellar space.
B787_300 pays no attention to the name on the container and eats your lunch from the refrigerator.
It was inevitable.
You break the space-time continuum and end up sitting in front of a Pentium 433MHz computer running Windows 98.
The only sign of your demise is a brief neutrino burst.
B787_300 thinks a small spaceplane would have been better than a capsule.
ShaunR71 Slingshots a knife around Duna, then the flaming,falling knife lands on your chest at 20000 MPH (On Kerbin). Good aim, ShaunR71!
Kmath ignores you.
You find out for yourself that a mission without casualties is indeed possible.
Red5 gives you an alternative version.
The SuclearnubPoint suffers a crisis, and nobody wants them anymore.
Failure is not an option.
Fortunately, there are no survivors.
After a terrible incident involving a pair of camcorders and your vessel's entire snack supply, you lose your MAGINOT BLUE STARS security clearance.
You forgot to make weird noises so you just didn't make it.
You forget a minus sign, with disastrous effects.
You find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!
The payload greatly exceeds the hagedorn temperature.
This shouldn't be physically possible.
You decide it is best to sacrifice your Jebediah Kerman plushie to the Kraken.
You are run over by a hype train.
Read error: Connection timed out.
Self-aware kmath is taken down by a mute woman in an orange jumpsuit.
You get stuck in a landslide.
All hail probe!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvdf5n-zI14
GLaDOS applauds the science value of your actions.
You exit the realm of possiblity
You discover that the moon you're visiting is really a planet destroying space station.
You epic win at computers and declare yourself a 1773 h0x4r 5 3ver.
You accidentally wipe out all sea life except jellyfish, I hope you're happy with yourself.
A hungry red fox gets loose in your capsule, eats all your snacks, and bites you when you try to stuff it back into the cargo bay.
It seemed like a good idea at the time...
You exit the realm of possibility.
Your launch gets wet in the rain, causing it to become very sticky and difficult to scrub.
You lose the contract and demand a recount.
You exhaust the munar supply of karbonite.
You discover physics is a harsh mistress.
You land on the flagpole.
All of Kerbin explodes because of your carelessness.
This is completely illegal.
Oh, they'll be talking about it for years!
A failure of one of your solid state memory banks causes your ship to suffer from amnesia.
This unsurprisingly causes a resonance cascade.
Surprisingly, this suggests a workable solution to the issue of subtractive resource costs.
The mission is aborted when the official mission cat jumps on the primary console.
You start to dry heave to the beat of Kerbinem's "Lose your rocket".
The launchpad explodes.
You break the absolute speed record for artificial objects.
Things go from bad to worse.
A company on Kerbin starts selling Kraken plushies and makes billions overnight.
At first, it seems all your kerbals returned from Eeloo in normal health, but then closer inspection reveals that they all have fangs.
It hails probes on Kerbin.
Your beard becomes so thick.
Haha! YOU'RE DEAD!
Absolutely *everything* catches fire spontaneously.
The only sign of your demise is brief neutrino burst.
dV Ap Pe TWR Srf Alt wait what is this cr-*boom*
You think the mission makes more sense when read backwards in Spanish.
The last thing you notice before your craft suddenly disintegrates in mid-flight is that it is oscillating in time to the beat to Tay Zonday's "Chocolate Rain."
The grammar nazis come after you.
Icefire deletes your error-filled missions and outcomes.
No one lives long enough to regret your poor decisions.
It's a secret to everybody.
You meet your maker.
Jool tosses you out into interstellar space with a passive-aggressive note telling you not to come back.
Jebediah crashes into Jool at 9100 m/s.
You wake up to find you have passed the point of no return.
You break math.
Wernher von Kerman ejects you from R&D on the nose of an SRB.
Wolfram Alpha couldn't display the answer.
That wasn't supposed to explode.
All these worlds are yours, except Europa.
You have been plagued with Null Reference Exceptions.
Starting right now, there is going to be a lot less talking and a lot more killing.
Both the pad and runway explode!
You exceed kmath's flood limit.
Jebediah has that look on his face again...
The KIA arrest you for your crimes against kerbalkind.
You're bought out by SpaceX.
Your computer says "I'm afraid I can't do that, Dave", and you ditch the project to try to figure out who the hell is this "Dave" that messed up your computer.
UmbralRaptor explodes, emitting all kinds of dinosaur DNA.
You discover the real reason it's called CASE NIGHTMARE GREEN.
"Taps" starts playing, seemingly out of nowhere.
The ensuing fireball melts your GPU.
"The worst that could happen" does.
Your kerbals are blasted to bits all over the landscape.  You find this is their preferred method of reproduction.
The tortoise is on its back, and you're not helping.
Your drag coefficient is over nine thousand!
The outcome isn't null terminated???Д??????Д??Жжд
Your ship explodes, you crash to desktop and then that explodes too
You get splattered by a cyberdemon.
It turns out that non-thermal bremsstrahlung hurts just as much as the normal kind.
You try to put out the fire with Nukage and make KSC unusable for 1337 years, the half life of Blutonium.
Mission control bans you from KSP.
It makes you sing 'Happy Happy Joy Joy'.
The end result is, naturally, yet more orbital debris.
B787_300 explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly /kick's.
Your mission to Duna is interrupted by Ike.
Things go pear-shaped very quickly.
In the ensuing investigation, you maintain that that mountain, quote, "came out of freaking nowhere."
Your Total Conversion Power Plant converts to  Later-Afternoon Yesterdationism.
Suddenly, space conga.
No one can know.
Firefox eats all your RAM before you can complete your mission.
In retrospect, it was a bit much to expect the planet to swerve first.
UmbralRaptor loses his knife, so stabs you with a spoon as punishment.
You activate the self-destruct sequence and all's right with the world!
Comedy ensues.
Bill Kerman dies of G-force damage.
Your body is donated to medical science.
Your Riemann manifold is punctured.
Oh well, these things happen.
Dubstep ensues.
You know what you're doing.
You win a hundred BadS kerbals in a bet over the outcome of your mission.
In retrospect, you're glad you added a parachute.
You hear voices in your head ever since that fateful event.
You fall off the Kuiper Cliff.
#KSPOfficial is haunted by Kountdown, which keeps moaning and rattling its Markov chains in the basement late at night.
The explosion is so large even suclearnub's parents believe it's real.
Bill has a luncheon-meat-induced seizure.
a random graysuit falls into the ocean east of KSC at 150 m/s.
Boom!
The flag gets stuck but you like it that way.
You are not going to space today.
Your duct tape dissolves and you crash.
The rest of the mission is halted by the flood limit.
You are cited in the next XKCD what-if.
What is this? A space taxi for ants?
There is a relevant xkcd made tomorrow.
There is a relevant xkcd made tomorrow.
[DATA EXPUNGED]. Most of the remains were never recovered.
Both the launchpad and runway explode!
emacs abuses you.
Дмитрий Рогозин offers to sell you a trampoline.
Your NTR leaves you for a sleeker, more powerful spacecraft.
You have inspired Danny2462 to do terrible things.
You celebrate by crashing an asteroid into the Mun.
However, Jeb ruined your data cap with a week-long Killyhammer marathon. You go bankrupt.
You realize that your emergency banana supply has been depleted.
And everyone was run over by a space bus driven by the kraken.
The IRC server crashes.
The aftermath is known as the Global Action War.
Bill is forced to get out and push.
Green Iron Crown comes after you.
You accidentally discover that putting a prism in your tea does not produce any new flavors.
Bob's chances of survival are directly proportional to his ability to count the shadows.
You catalyze a vacuum metastability event.
Someone tied your core rope memory into knots.
You suddenly are in Mexico.
Jebediah streaks through the atmosphere.
Scott Manley attempts to beat your time on video.
Overhead, without any fuss, the stars are going out.
Bill Kerman absorbs over 40 megasieverts of neutron radiation as a result of your neglect for safety measures.
The rocket is on fire and you've lost your hat.
Rockets are fired.
You realize there is potassium benzoate in your MonoPropellant.
Various kerbals suffer from terminal kinetic energy poisoning.
Your post languishes in the moderation queue because all the moderators are busy playing KSP.
Your mission fails due to lack of exclamation points.
You are forced to read The Atrocity Archives all in one sitting by administration.
You never expected to see a resonance cascade, let alone create one.
You are caught playing KSP at work for the fourth time and fired on the spot.
This is widely considered to be a bad move.
But the sun is eclipsed by the moooooooon...
We're going to die.
You are shredded by a relativistic feather cloud ejected from a very frivolous high-energy physics experiment.
Everyone mistakes you for a forum moderator.
The mission is completed successfully with better-than-expected results.
This happens in spite of the fact that C has not yet been invented.
https://i.imgur.com/WdbYlya.png
You are smashed by Grabthar's Hammer.
Bill collides with a teapotahedron floating between Kerbin and Duna.
You died for failing to GET OFF MY LAWN!
Even Danny2462 thinks you're crazy.
You end up demolishing the VAB.
Kerbals nuke Earth from orbit, just to be sure.
KSP in a nutshell.
Due to a source code mixup, the KSC gets overrun by angry Florans.
Your PC just nopes hard.
kmath was unable to find "Outcome 459"
Recent events make the board of directors decide it is best to burn all trees near KSC.
Kountdown gains sentience.
Your actions fractally generate more and more outcomes until INTEGER OVERFLOW EXCEPTION
You're fired for playing KSP too much and live off your youtube channel.
The abyss gazes into you.
You increase the orbital debris count tenfold.
This results in numerous arrests.
You reject their reality, and substitute your own.
KwirkyJ deletes you
You are distracted by a discussion of the relative merits of CGS, MKS, and Planck units.
Kmath returns an invalid function call.
The Kraken dines on your save file.
Kountdown gets kicked for annoyingly telling everyone the time to your impending doom.
You discover too late that those "aerospikes" were actually shock cone intakes all this time, and crash hard into Eve.
Jeb finds your secret stash of boosters.
You break the fourth wall and your house collapses.
Jool tosses you out into interstellar space, with a passive-aggressive note telling you not to come back.
Solid rocket boosters are banned from the space program by environmental activists.
Your craft is fed to an irascible and hungry UmbralRaptor.
Kerbin is no more.
TheKosmonaut deletes your recently added ;outcome due to your bad grammar.
Something suddenly appears behind your ba
Murphy's law was thus renamed in Jeb's honor, after that mission.
You think, "Oh no, not again."
There are mysterious cases of food poisoning in the KSC.
The explosion is staggeringly beautiful.
Traceback: Subroutine 'BurnRockets()' takes 1 parameter, none provided.
By the time Jebediah manages to decelerate, the universe is nearing heat death.
The neutrino burst alone is lethal.
You give up.
Your crewmembers are arrested for flying while green.
You end up quantum entangled with Kerbol
Linus Torvalds changes your launch windows into launch penguins.
DON'T PANIC!
Your orbit follows a Dho-Nha curve.
You cause an ultraviolet catastrophe.
You are kicked by UmbralRaptor.
You go to jail.
TheKosmonaut's feelings are hurt.
You become depressed at finding that your google search yielded a positive result.
You ragequit. Twice.
KSP in a nutshell.
No pun intended.
A class-E asteroid descends on KSC.
Internet Explorer is now known as Internet Exploder.
You encounter xiong in person, and your brain is now beyond repair.
It is used for nefarious purposes.
A pun tax is instituted.
The video goes viral on YouTube.
Jeb complains of seeing everything in octarine.
Heh, best laid plans of mice.  What do you mean men?  What have men got to do with it?
You fail under a flood of 502 errors.
You have a bad feeling about this.
It was inevitable.
Everything went better than expected!
Well you would do if cats were not sleeping on the controls.
All your floating points float off into the sunset and are never seen again.
But how?
Christmas comes early...in the form of a runaway neutron cascade.
The launch window gets delayed after the KSC's janitor spills twenty vats of whale blubber over the launchpad.
In a strange twist of probability, people no longer die, regardless of the absurdity of their situation.
You are intercepted and destroyed by the Magic Boulder whilst trying to land on Ike, but no one believes you.
This instigates an egregious netsplit in #KSPOfficial.
UmbralRaptor explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly raptorbits.
You would be a pro at procrastination, but you keep putting it off and doing other things.
The booster stage is eaten by the space kraken, and the barge it was supposed to land on is eaten by the normal kraken.
Your propellant choices end up on Derek Lowe's blog.
You end up on an escape trajectory out of the sun.
Ia! Ia! TsmvgdlYadrtfg fhtagn!
Again.
You suffer a massive headsplosion.
The contract has a giant bug on it and you're too afraid to turn it in.
You thermalize your breakfast, losing most of its energy as waste heat.
PrefixCactus explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly PrefixSpines.
BlackSilver is fired out of a cannon into the sun.
Your siblings email you asking you to print out a web page and fax it to them because their printer is broken.
You completely fail to math today.
You find out the hard way that parachutes were not accounted for in the mission budget.
A random graysuit falls into the ocean east of KSC at 150 m/s.
Kaboom, and the vessel is gone!
Kerbodyne produces an oversized and overpriced knockoff.
Great Cthulhu devours the entire Kerbol system.
The results are visible only with a telescope under certain atmospheric conditions.
You are on the path to destruction.
...........Waiting for Power Processing.
To disturb not the yoda master you learn quickly.
The kill-counter rolls over, resulting in a net gain in live kerbals.
You discover that Eve's oceans are puddles of gray goo in the most unpleasant way possible.
A small dog accidentally eats the subsequent interstellar war.
You create a 3m inline docking port
You are forced to launch another rescue mission for the previous one. The universe reaches its recursion limit and segfaults.
Your mission just bores erifeci.
UmbralRaptor glares at you and quotes Wikipedia.
The Secretary disavows any knowledge of your actions.
Jeb thinks you're crazy.
Your computer explodes with the force of a 10 ton H-bomb.
KSC is burned down by a 400-gigawatt maser.
The Windows 64-bit version morphs into skynet and incinerates humanity.
GLaDOS questions the science value of your actions.
Your hype train exceeds 88 miles per hour.
Everyone dyes.
Your Isp is superluminal!
The Kraken bakes and then devours Gilly.
The airport control tower adds your mugshot to the Wall of Shame.
You suddenly crave doritos, though you cannot decide on a dip.
Your ship is too wide to complete your mission.
Jebediah drinks a tall glass of hydrazine because "It'll be fun!"
It is used by nefarious porpoises.
Your Mystery Goo does not like having experiments performed on it, but reluctantly abides.
You are cracked by a giant space whip.
B787_300 kicks you on sight.
Contract successfully completed.
Your ship dubsteps itself to destruction.
You stop as you get into a heated debate about national identities.
Everything goes as planned.
Khan commandeers your spacecraft.
The petunias think to themselves "Not again."
You are beaten up by several ULA lobbyists in a nearby parking lot.
Corium pools in the basements under the launch complex.
You accidentally unleash kOS-powered self-replicators on Kerbin.
You receive a sixpack of Jeb's Homebrew 75% Ginger Ale (with zero asbestos!) as an "I'm sorry for screwing your mission up" gift.
The Kraken dines on your vessel.
Your skill at breaking KSP gets you invited to the Experimental team.
Neal gets in trouble for even mentioning the events.
The rocket vanishes in a burst of Cherenkov radiation.
You are arrested for interplanetary speeding and your rocket licence is taken away
Hope you remembered your towels.
You end up with an infinite number of kerbals asking you to review their versions of Shakespeare.
The engineers go on strike.
For such a stupid idea, it works amazingly well.
You scare a cat in a box half to death.
SHODAN is disturbed by your evil.
The job of killing all kerbals is given over to robots.
It actually works.
You are attacked by an armada of space dragons.
Next thing you know, it's Apollo 18 and you're fighting space spiders!
This gives you a harsh reminder of the fleeting nature of life.
The debris are scattered along a variety of space-like trajectories.
Gene Kerman sighs.
You get hit by fireworks and lose 70% of your hair.
You are targeted and destroyed by the [REDACTED] array embedded in the Vallhenge.
Scolar_Visari no longer recognizes you as a Son (and/or Daughter) of Kerbin.
A rescue plan is quickly scrawled onto a napkin.
You are abducted by Greys.
The discussion gets added to the fortune file.
Someone asked when the next KSP update will be released and delays it another day.
Yargnit tells you everything you're doing wrong.
You ask for help on #kspofficial but no-one answers.
You encounter an alternative mission outcome midflight.
The Kraken dines on your vessel.
Your children no longer love you.
Mission Failed.
You give up.
There were cookies.
This will be fixed in the next version.
Drag from the interstellar medium strips off your radiators and antennae.
Someone writes a parody song about it.
Your computer crashes so hard you get whiplash and detached organs.
You go home.
You come down with a bad case of Raptor Cough.
Scott Manley makes a video on how to do it better.
Your copilot documents the achievement with a Polaroid camera.
You launch at night and cannot locate the Sun. Unfortunately, you can locate the ground.
The sun wins the race against your ion glider.
The radioactive fallout will take decades to clean up.
Esper has a netsplit.
Kmath fails to display this outcome.
A mushroom cloud develops on the horizon.
Francis E Dec writes an accurate summary of your exploits.
You travel back in time, only to discover that the universe no longer exists in that timeframe.
The VAB collapses.
You are forced to perform percussive maintenance.
*POMF*
The result of your actions is later called "The Great Kesslerization".
You build a microwave receiver from microwave ovens to turn the beams back into electricity.
Your spaceship is haunted by Seth Rogen's ghost and all you hear is "huh huh huh"
It is used for nefarious porpoises.
Your final moments are shown on Kerbin's Funniest Home Videos. You come in second.
All space center personnel suddenly start speaking Finnish.
You miss your scheduled burn.
#KSPOfficial has to be cycled to clean up your mess.
You burgerise the Rocket Equestrian.
Your craft bounces off the surface of a nearby rogue comet.
It turns out that normal orbits to the south pole are overrated as well.
TechnicalFool pets the UmbralRaptor which then gives birth to a Supernovy.
Jeb having fun.
You lose all your suclearnubPoints.
Your rocket malfunctions and crashes into the Mk1-2 Pod Monument. It is unharmed.
Who cares?
Your space agency's twitter is hacked by Kerbonymous.
Your antimatter reacts far more quickly than expect and soon the reactors are empty.
A netsplit occurs and you fail to read the end of that story.
You watch in horror as the Probe Brains rise up...and flip themselves over.
The remainder of the crew are internally referred to as "red shirts".
Your mission devolves into a debate over whether its name is an acronym or an initialism.
You are insulted for playing KSP.
You are dismayed to find your discovery of a new KSP Easter egg is old news, and was known at least 10 versions ago.
You get caught up in an argument over units of measurement and do not go to space today.
Your confusion of impact factor with impact parameter results in the destruction of several Elsevier and Springer offices.
The Magic Boulder kills your entire crew before causing the asteroid apocalypse.
Krakens attack Kerbin.
Kerbn cannot into spaec today.
The Magic Boulder blows raspberries at you.
You forget about the mission and get lost in wikipedia for the next 12 hours.
The mystery goo leaks into the cabin and shorts your flight computer.
Maxmaps posts the news everywhere except the KSP forums. Again.
Your activities are later retconned out.
The robots just look at you like you're an idiot.
It doesn't work, so you sell it for 20 times the price instead of your usual 10 times the price.
Everyone argues about whether your proofpics are photoshopped or real
A sand fire rages out of control.
Lagrange points beat you up.
You are murderized by half of #KSPOfficial.
Your heroic sacrifice in the name of science is remembered for generations
A SQUAD employee materializes behind you.
Mechjeb attempts to stage a robot uprising with your rovers.
The SAS hits 88 mph, and the rocket reverts to the VAB.
Bliss has never seemed more unattainable.
The resulting flame war goes on for days.
You are kicked out of New Eden.
You crack a joke about it.
Variatinos were discovered in 2014 by B787_300.
Due to budget cuts, your rocket is made of cheap rushed 3d-printed parts and disintegrates upon launch.
The lysine contingency is implemented as the lysol contingency for budgetary reasons.
And then everyone was a wiener.
Now you're thinking with portals.
Jeb dies permanently.
UmbralRaptor tries to bite you.
The bots reject you.
You pass your finals!
Your flight computer is formatted by a Steam uninstall error.
[DATA REDACTED]
Your dual-fusion 1500 megawatt super-colliding pneumatic diversitized quantum quantum space tape untangler fails.
You accidentally unleash AGC-powered self-replicators on Kerbin.
A group of meddling kids and their talking dog reveal that your rocket is actually Gene Kerman!
The entire KSC crew now suffers from salmonella poisoning.
On your return the media is only interested in the zero-G toilet.
The linux file manager starts on boot.
Your computer reboots at the most inopportune moment.
The area is so contaminated with radiation that it'll be uninhabitable for aeons to come.
You spend all that remains of your budget on cleaning up the mess you made.
You devour the Grey Goo.
Your project undergoes gravitational collapse into a black hole.
Randall explores all the various ways everybody could die due to it in the next XKCD What-If.
This requires a kerbal recompile.
Mass is driven like it's stolen.
The launch pad does not approve of your abuse.
Your capsule safely ejects and lands, but the headless spaceplane goes on to terrorize small coastline communities all around KSC for months.
Your savefile is corrupted and all previous missions are lost.
Supernovy explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly radiation.
Kerbin is infected by the NaNovirus.
Jebediah has fun.
Windows finally, after a long and wordy pre-mortem speech, gives up on you and your HDD.
Unbeknownst to the employees at the KSP centre, Gus Kerman secretly runs a restaurant chain that serves Fried Chicken.
It makes you impotent.
It was inevitable, given the Mk3 adaptor mass ratios and prices.
Your mission is mostly successful but is overshadowed by your poor choice of shirt.
Your NTR briefly goes from solid to liquid core.
GreeningGalaxy approves.
Your mission succumbs to Cole's Law, which is thinly sliced cabbage.
The result is very hammer.
Your name is cursed for generations.
This all ends with Kicks and Mutes.
#KSPOfficial ends up with more bots than humans.
UmbralRaptor blinks imperiously.
Kerbals once again discover that chemistry is not good to screw around with.
The non-space worthy MK1 Prototype Command Pod goes missing.
Your actions cause an XK-class [DATA EXPUNGED]
But who cares?
A viral video is posted to YouTube of the Payload Safety Review Panel saying "NOOO" to you for ten hours straight.
The quadratic formula explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly x squareds.
You conclude that jet engines can live on Laythe.
A Man-o'-War fractal escapes from a screensaver at KSC and begins ravaging the universe, starting with the Kerbol system.
You attempt to break the regular expressions engine.
Rockomax is probably going to get fined for this.
Houston has a problem.
Exposure to vacuum voids the warranty on over half the parts of your rocket upon arrival in orbit.
Someone makes a bot to help with it and unleashes it on #KSPOfficial.
Your GPU fries.
You decide to consult additional pythons.
You see what a geon looks like from the inside.
Turns out mission planning technique is more important than rocket size.
You are forced to use a slide rule.
Your recovery attempt is informally known as "The Red Wedding".
All the bots on #KSPOfficial get into a fight and are kickbanned for spamming.
Your CPU overloads and makes strange sounds.
KSP in a nutshell.
You have to get out and push. Glory to the United Kerbal Kommunist States!
Your orbit follows a Donut curve.
A dog chases your rocket.
You would have been able to avoid disaster, but the context menu was obscured by the nav ball and you couldn't reach the button to turn on your engine.
This results in you creating a new OS, KUNIX, which becomes insanely popular and shapes the history of computing.
Surprisingly, no one died and there is even a beautiful rainbow over KSC.
Civilisation is destroyed by an unknown probe you hailed while it was approaching Kerbin.
Physics fails you, and you fall through the floor.
You miss your burn because the flight computer was spamming you with "system problem detected" dialogs.
The result cannot be renormalized.
Your relaxing replica Europa Report mission suddenly turns frightening when you are [DATA EXPUNGED] on Vall.
It's super effective!
Your connection is reset by peer.
You are thrown out the airlock.
Your launch is scrubbed because someone put a boat in the way.
The kerbals from the Titanic Hindenburg haunt you for the rest of your days.
Your space program is considered a hoax.
KSP crashes your monitor.
Your vessel was a ghost the entire time.
Windows finally, after a long and wordy pre-mortem speech and 4 cutscenes, gives up on you and your HDD.
This is widely considered to be a bad move.
Jebediah breaks out his stash of champagne and uses it to save the mission.
The Soyuz undocks early, and a commenter loses his mind.
You trip over your boots in the dark for the seventh time this week.
Wagner is not amused.
Senpai notices you.
News arrives that the galactic core is exploding. All funding for your efforts is withdrawn immediately.
You are accused of being grossly unethical.
Your escapades catch the eye of Hollywood and they make a film, unfortunately it is directed by Uwe Boll.
Connection is lost.
You receive a sixpack of Jeb's Homebrew 75% Ginger Ale (with zero asbestos!) instead.
Dubstep becomes the language of your people. Also, everyone turns deaf.
This does not confirm Half-Life 3. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Mechjeb stops working.
Jebediah is pulled over for drinking and flying.
You go bankrupt!
The supply of snacks is exhausted.
This grossly violates ITAR.
A boat is in the way, and everyone complains until its interference is dealt with.
A mysterious pumpkin -ificates into existence over KSC and destroys the VAB.
There is a long silence.
Supernovy makes a pun out of your predicament.
You monster.
The cockpit ejects... right into administration. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!
You end up with acute mental disorders.
KwirkyJ removes the entry about KwirkyJ removing the meta entries. Meta-ception.
Perhaps you should have double checked your staging first.
You end up playing Ninja Scooter Simulator on the Commodore 64 for 9 hours straight.
Wernher von Kerman chases you out of the R&D complex with a broom.
You make two important discoveries in rapid succession: Your glasses have been on the floor all this time, and that marker you've been burning along is actually the retrograde one.
You doom us all to unending toil in service of He Whose Name Cannot Be Expressed In The Basic Multilingual Plane.
You are swarmed by drones. Fortunately(?) they are from Yelp and drop burritos on you.
NASA scientists scream in agony.
Bill crashes into Ike at 7800 m/s.
your craft rolls left, then right, then pitches nose first into the concrete.
The R&D facility "mysteriously" explodes.
The energy release catalyzes a vacuum metastability event.
There can be only one solution: 10-molar aqueous HCl.
Rockomax will probably get fined for it.
The live feed cuts off at launch.
This results in numerous arrests.
You are having a bad problem and will not go to space today.
However, you lack sufficient fuel to maintain your heading.
You did it wrong and now everybody hates you.
SpaceCore is jammed and annoys you the whole trip.
The mission is deemed a complete success!
RandomJeb spends the next hour trying to convince everyone that he is the real Jebediah.
Your keyboard breaks down at the moment you try to deploy your chutes.
Danny invents a dozen ways to spectacularly bork your mission and makes a video about it.
Kerbin blows up.
The drag coefficient is over nine thousand.
You miss your skew-flip and collide wtih Eve at 40 km/s.
You realise you left your oven on back at Kerbin and abort the mission.
You discover that aerospikes do not function well as air intakes.
Jeb goes bungee jumping using your core rope memory.
You give up and sell meta-meat pies at the KSC.
You execute a clever and highly fuel-efficient maneuver, but fail to notice your periapsis is subterranean afterwards.
Hawking radiation. Hawking radiation everywhere.
Your rocket is struck by lightning.
You are shocked to discover that kelvin(s) are not measured in degrees.
The Cherenkov radiation is blindingly bright.
Jeb somehow managed to get a 1:1 replica of the Hindenburg and crashes it into the Kerbal Burn Treatment Center.
Structural failure occurs on the linkage between Jebediah Kerman and EAS-1 External Command Seat.
This gravely offends the Finnish people.
You accidentally call Laythe "Lethe" in a press conference, causing everyone to forget about going to space today.
You find out red colors do indeed make it go faster.
You prove yourself to be an omnicidal maniac.
This is counterproductive.
You accidentally sit on the launchpad for a week without taking off.
suclearnub explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly ICBMs.
Lack of planning is cited as the lead cause of the failure.
You lose antimatter containment.
You learn that the Sega Genesis has blast processing.
A groundbreaking research paper is written on the subject.
Even the water is on fire.
You realise you are watching a youtube video.
Sie Kraken ist nicht zufrieden mit
The result just sucks.
BadRocketsCo complains about the mission spam.
You walk away with an increased appreciation for your seventh-grade mathematics course (even in the case that it hasn't happened yet).
Your rocket goes to jail for illegal possession of a kerbal.
The space agency pays a trajillion dollars to cover the collateral damage.
Cosmic rays strike your eyeballs almost constantly, preventing you from seeing what actually happened.
You are swarmed by drones, but thankfully they are from Amazon and come bearing gifts.
You try to unsee it.
You regret this for the rest of your life.
Kountdown gets kicked for repeatedly announcing the time to your impending failure.
The UN sends you a sternly-worded letter in response.
An update to KSP comes out and breaks your saves.
taniwha explodes, emitting all kinds of launchpads.
You discover that mass is important to more than just Catholics.
Jeb forgets to check what flag he brought before launch.
Your actions go the way of MULTICS.
You run out of kerbals because your cloning machine fai-*cough* Er, I mean because there are no more applicants.
You are banned from calculating probability distributions for continuously being indiscreet.
Your computer melts because of what you did.
Icefire is amazed at how much you (ab)use a joke feature of his bot.
You realise that this is all a dream.
The productivity of your Kerbals drops to an all-time low.
You successfully test rocket the fire.
You can't hear anything over the sound of your super awesome antimatter torch drive.
The rescue mission to the rescue mission, now requires a rescue mission.
Supernovy explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly radiation.
UmbralRaptor explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly raptorbits.
Your crewmembers are arrested for flying while green.
Your rocket infiniglides into the distance.
Your rocket collapses under its weight onto your boss.
You get 6 pooled.
The pedantry is upgraded to didacticism.
You try to calm your passengers down by explaining that there's nothing to be nervous about, but are cut off by a distant explosion.
The R&D department gives you cookies because they now have a larger budget.
Cactus is hollowed out and nested in by a ferruginous pygmy owl.
Your MET clock now blinks 12:00 all the time.
You are having a really bad problem and you will not go to space today.
This causes an unusual expression.
You succeed.
Fortunately, all the gray-suits were lost.
Hull breach in Sector 12!
You accidentally call Laythe "Lathe" in a letter to your parents, and they assume a horrible fate has befallen you.
You violate causality but don't care because of the speed achieved.
You become distressed upon learning that Darth Kerman is your father.
Jeb is court-martialed for setting fire to the capsule on re-entry.
You create numerous causality violations and end the universe as we know it.
You accidentally call Tylo "Typo" at the pre-mission press conference.
You accidentally call Eve "Steve" at the pre-mission press conference.
There is solid fuel leaking everywhere.
You have booster-sign the likes of which God has never seen.
The resulting spagettification is just as excruciating as it sounds.
Someone steals all the monitors at Mission Control.
Einstein pulls you over for exceeding c.
Wilhelm screams.
There's no reason to expect it to happen at all!
Nitroglycerin is "accidentally" made in the mobile processing lab.
Your flightplan ends up being messed with by UmbralRaptor
And it was full of stars!
You miss your capture burn because you were texting and flying, and the physics police pulls you over and out into the interstellar medium.
All of this has happened before.
You fail to control your FOOF (dioxygen difluoride) and blow up the entire space complex.
Your computer begins insisting that your name is "Dave" for some reason.
The cake was a lie.
Your slide rule is signed by the president, becoming a slide law.
All ops start using Hammurabi's code for channel legislation.
Things rapidly get out of hand when chlorine trifluoride becomes the preferred solution.
You have read so many contract descriptions that you forget basic sentence structure, needless to say, this is where you come in.
Everyone starts speaking in some obscure language which may or may not be real.
Your hype train exceeds 88 miles per hour.  You arrive in version .13.3.
You invent a smaller version of the fission rocket thingie.
You become an entry in Derek Lowe's blog.
For all the resultant horror, grief, and pain, you put your differences behind you and try again. For science. You monster.
The kerbonauts don't have enough fuel to come back so you send a Kerbal X to rescue them.
The rescue mission requires a rescue mission.
Tylo turns out to be made of antimatter.
Your spaceplane breaks the runway.
The last thing you hear is "John Madden" and "AEIOU" repeated over and over.
Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!
Every KSC building is revealed to have a stash of antimatter in its basement.
Even the water is on fire.
Contract successfully completed.
Why? For the glory of science of course!
You look over your shoulder for moderators.
Half the onlookers love it, half hate it.
You install automated farming and manufacturing equipment, break down Kerbals and use their biomass for other purposes.
You match your target orbit, only to find that you're going in the wrong direction.
Ike approves of this.
Robbaz giggles with delight.
Now all of your pets have an external moisture content of 100%.
Oh my god, you killed Kenny.
The crystal sphere holding up the Mun shatters. You're gonna have to pay for that, buddy.
you land bottom-first onto PrefixCactus.
Millions of small needles rain down across the countrysides.
As you enter orbit, a police car on the surface pulls you over with a very long grappling hook and crashes you into the sea.
Line of sight with the power satellite in orbit is broken, and your ship plunges helplessly into the ravenous depths of Jool.
Sie Absturz Ihre Rakete in neunundneunzig Luftballons.
Bob shows you how well he can play Wonderwall on guitar.
Jeb's dead, baby. Jeb's dead.
You forget about your mission and just watch web cartoons.
You learn that the Super Nintendo does not have blast processing.
You accidentally call Vall "Wall" in a science report, and Wernher Von Kerman seems highly confused.
But there, cleverly disguised as a bomb, is a bomb.
The damage is irreversible.
The day is named a national holiday in your honour.
Rokker states his opinion about your performance.
You get an unpleasantly close view of the r-process in action.
Everyone argues with you about whether or not this should have been a mission or an outcome.
GreeningGalaxy spends the next hour talking about Homestuck.
The Trio gets banned for profanity.
GreeningGalaxy spends the next hour talking about what she did with KSPI.
You are zapped by PrefixCactus.
Your attempt to make ClF5 in a pressure cooker reminds you of an ex girlfriend.
Your treatment of your kerbals results in automatic failure of the Voight-Kampff test.
Your ship is crushed into a small 1:4:9 rectangular prism.
The cookies you had been expecting were, in fact, never there to begin with.
Your jets fail to start. Upon further checking, you discover that you installed aerospikes instead of shock cone intakes.
Jeb's parachute swoops out of the ensuing fireball.
You get this bot banned by spamming ;mission too much.
Cat fur is everywhere.
You find yourself feeling floofy, and exothermic.
At least the more distant seismic sensors will get a lot of data from that.
Your plans are thwarted by the Münar tardigrade colony
The CSB has determined that this was the decision that ultimately led to so much death and destruction.
The Deep Space Karen throttles Jeb, demanding to see his manager
The launch vehicle is too large for the lander and your craft overheats
Your plans are foiled by the Nose
A burning wheel bounces out of the wreckage and rolls away, due to the effects of general narrativity.
The theme to Interstellar starts playing.
You find your craft has a striking resemblance to an enormous fidget spinner
Crowley begins playing celestial harmonies
The Thames floods the Lesser Flats of Minmus, but it's still entirely safe to land.
You are verbally attacked by Gene Kerman
Jeb's EVA takes a wrong turn and leads to the destruction of the Mün.
Grung-obsessed Kerbals sweep the area, leaving only destruction in their wake.
Valentina experiments with the psychedelic effects of eating the snow on Minmus
An alien furry nuzzles you affectionately.
It is the beginning of a revolution!
Inexplicably, it's still wet.
MechJeb uses your rocket as a battering ram.
UmbralRaptor spoons you to death as punishment.
You hit a bubbled Steven Universe with your spaceplane.
Everything goes pink, and all memory fades
You find Kashyyyk was in the Kerbal system the whole time.
Everything is smothered in cheese
You discover the kerbals are communist
Fred is bemused with everyone's sensitivity to a little gamma.
You are challenged to a game of drop-ball
Ironic.
Quoth the onboard P.A. system, "Trololololo lo lolo lolo lololololooooo"
Gravity works!
The resulting explosion sends chunks of Duna hurtling into places unknown.
+++OUT OF CHEESE ERROR+++ +++RESTART+++ +++ANTHILL INSIDE+++
Unfortunately, there are survivors.
That was your final mistake.
Mistakes were made.
Your processor irradiates you, then explodes violently.
The gamma flash is visible from over a gigaparsec away.
They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!
So you use the remains of crashed kerbals for ballast.
You have entered the Matrix.
You've added rings to Jool from leaving behind exploded craft.
You EVA home from the Mun
David Bowie is disappointed in you. You are a very poor Starman.
Your ship is ripped apart by the fabled Full Stop.
Launchmeat is discovered, a groundbreaking development.
Jeb has been at the liquid fuel again, poor sod.
Your TWR is atrocious.
MechJeb crashes you into the surface
18 seconds to complete destruction.
You are murdered for suggesting that Kerbin is round.
The mountain is painted bright pink.
Your mission is thwarted by a Simon and Garfunkel performance.
You were launched off of the edge of the disc, but returned miraculously.
And there are spiders...
In a horrifying twist, soylent kerbal turns out to be made from greens.
You instigate CASE NIGHTMARE GREEN.
You are banned from proposing new missions.
Yay, signal everywhere into the outer reaches.
You launched facing the wrong direction and now you're in a polar orbit
...but staging is locked
You don't have enough charge to operate your solar panels.
Due to an error in action group staging, you gravity turn off the mun.
As a result of a clerical error, you crash into the sun.
As a result of a clerical error, Jebediah becomes the next pope.
Your pagan ship is torn apart by Krakenists.
The Great Will Of The Macrocosm reverts the mission to launchpad.
You are devoured by the Cosmic Owl (such is the course of nature).
You can't prove you aren't a chatbot.
There are unforeseen consequences.
Having decided you're quite good at rocket science, you conclude that the next logical step is to start manufacturing electric cars as well.
Your parachutes deploy on takeoff.
You also discover that "Warp to dawn" and "Warp to Dawn" do two very different things.
Remember not to turn during booster separation!
And that's *yet another* XK-class End of the World Event that's your fault.
Someone accidentally triggers modcall and you get banned.
It turns out you *can* produce reactionless thrust just by clipping the right parts together!
Blood for *all* of the Blood Gods.
This ultimately results in a boring but modestly profitable business.
You *technically* fulfilled the contract requirements...
You converted Minmus from mint to cilantro.
You destroy an infinite number of universes in finite time.
Fortunately, help arrives on mighty toaster wings.
Your fuel runs out of Phlogiston.
For some reason, subsequent modifications make your designs increasingly crab-like.
As a side hussle, you start a novelty confectionary company called "Rocket Candy".
Don't worry about it.
This is fine.
Your interplanetary program ends with all kerbals being replaced with imposters.
Handsome Ron sees your gross safety violations and shuts down your space program.
You fail ISO 9000 certification due to your complete lack of formal process or even any documentation of your space program.
Your scientific progress goes "boink".
Your outcome has been stolen by a Horrible Goose.
The tech tree bears an explosive fruit.
Scott Manley explains the resulting events in great detail.
For unclear reasons, you find chunks of graphite debris scattered around KSC.
Iä! Iä! Supernovy fhtagn!
They don't make big enough fuel tanks for this.
Blood for the blood drive!
The Sphinx of black quartz harshly judges your vow.
Your mission results in you finding an interesting relation between the index of refraction of an object and its odor. You name this effect Smell's Law.
And that's why "Fool of a Took" has been replaced by "Fool of a Kerman".
Long after moving on to another project, you hear the explosion.
So, you've chosen Death.
You are forced to atone for your crimes against Physics, kerbalkind, and The Kraken.
Edward Teller thinks you went overboard in the size of that last bomb.
You get mauled by a catbus, and your space program fails due to leaving insufficient documentation for your successors.
When asked to explain your behavior, you can only offer a sheepish chuckle and the inexplicable craving for cream cheese.
The survivors curse your name.
Your reputation underflows, and suddenly the really nice contracts are available again.
A congressional investigation is launched into your severe cost and schedule overruns.
Failure is not an option, but happens anyway.
Unfortunately, the science collected is only applicable to mice.
You melt Kerbin's scrith shell, causing it to fall into the singularity.
The initially widespread fires are rapidly extinguished as they deplete Kerbin's atmosphere of oxygen.
Today is a good day to die.
And that's how kerbals became multiplanetary.
Your funding, while ample, doesn't nearly cover it.
Your costs slip up, and your schedule slips to the right.
Your rocket clips into The Backrooms.
Your rocket is classifed as a new kind of SCP.
You are now known to the State of California to cause cancer and birth defects or other reproductive harm.
It worked more or less as expected.
Your efforts are misdirected and fail to address the underlying problem. Everything explodes.
Eventually you successfully attack and dethrone the Kraken.
This takes so long that you finish just before JWST launches.
Your rocket spins like a leek.
Oh no, it worked.
You succeed beyond your wildest nightmares.
Years later, you sometimes wake up in a cold sweat from the memories of their screams.
everyone's SAN score goes negative.
The Explodium Sea lives up to its name.
You fill up every room in the Hilbert hospital.
Failure analysis report: ladder left inside fuel tank, ingested by turbopump.
You experience several dozen anomalies during launch.
You simultaniously underfill and overfill the hbox, resulting in a badness of over 10000.
Unfortunately your heatshield doesn't block neutrinos.
It causes all sorts of problems.
You fly straight into the London Eye.
Would you like to know more?
The trajectory preview confuses you and you arrive the wrong way.. No big deal this time, though.
Even Danny is shocked by the amount of bugs you find on this mission.
You learn for yourself the true cost of lies.
Come on, you apes^H^H^H^Htrees, do you want to live forever?
It sets a new record for the Island Express.
Safely distant observers are unable to determine the temperature of the fireball due to doppler broadening.
The oceans undergo a BLEVE.
You set a new record for minimizing Δv use.
KSP doesn't implement the required physics.
UmbralRaptor adds more ;missions and ;outcomes to LunchBot.
You feel the warp overtake you. It is a good pain.
Nothing more hard exists in the universe.
You set a new record for maximizing Δv use.
You become fluent in PowerPoint.
You suffer terminal acronym poisoning.
To warn future generations of the crash site, your scientists propose breeding cats that glow in the presence of radiation
Unfortunately, KSP can't simulate the results.
The KAA refuses to grant you a launch license. The environment is saved.
You lose your lunch license, and your rockets now must face a hangry kraken.
Unfortunately this is KSP and you can't do that.
You accidentally destroy Carthago and make Cato proud.
You are judged silently by your Science Jr.
Xi has banned your manatees.
You look like algae bloom, when you're down.
You elect to get out and push...
You are flayed by flayer
You are fined five credits for repeated violations of the verbal morality statute.
One carth and everyone is unhappy.
You add enough boosters to switch from a Minkowsky to a Schwarzschild metric.
David Bowie's "Space Oddity" plays from an unknown source...you are slightly unsettled.
Your actions are in direct violation of the laws of physics. Please cease said actions or you will be apprehended and taken to infinity jail.
Your attempts are thwarted by THERMIC SPACE LEECHES!
Peace was never an option.
You fail catastrophically.
You succeed catastrophically.
MechJeb executes several dozen maneuver nodes for treason.
You watch the destruction of Kerbin to the sounds of Jack Stauber...
This proves difficult, as your rockets are all gummed up inside.
We will be consumed by their trajectorial instability!
"my bottom is full of noodles"
Capital I's, dammit!
Not all those who wander are lost, but you certainly seem to be.
Moist.
You are now an unperson, removed by Big Bobny's Redaction Wheels.
Bob is caught launching illegal vessels for his satellite pirate radio station
Nuclear Wessels. Mm, Wessels
You have angered the nuclear weasels
You've found the source of the ticking. It's a pipe bomb! Yaaaaaay!
There was a sound like the whole world saying "wop" all at once.
Guest61064 has declared you Sus Baka
Izaya has built so many commie rockets that the ussr has been summoned to Kerbin. *Patrioticheskaya Pesnya begins to play*
Izaya had built so many commie rockets that the USSR has been summoned to Kerbin. Patrioticheskaya Pesnya begins to play.
This won't be the last time, either.
KSC is no longer a place of honor.
Your kerbals discover your evil plans via Van Eck radiation, and abandon you.
Pol germinates.
Germ pollinates.
You have so much to stab.
You have delayed KSP2's release by another year.
Your rocket explodes, leaving pieces floating in air, having broken physics. You monster.
Apple's largest production facility is mysteriously melted by boosters
Izaya's commie rockets have finally angered Russia.
Your spacecraft succumb to Kessler syndrome, while your kerbals succumb to Krantzberg syndrome.
Battlecruiser operational.
"Forty-two seconds!", you cry, and there is much rejoicing.
A two solar mass black hole passes Kerbin and flings you into space. Kerbin's orbit is unaffected.
You get mass-ratio'd.
The mission's stakeholders are furious, but the steakholders are too busy eating to care.
Fire the stellar buckshot.
Your payload fraction goes negative.
You demonstrate the power of a fully armed and operational battlestation.
You have woken the colorless green ideas, and they are still furious.
Jeb has changed the music to Gary Numan.
It turns out that birdwatching goes both ways.
You have somehow proven the existence of birds.
The lunar bunnies are now on the endangered species list.
Tardigrades are now an invasive species in the lunar environment.
Kerbol is turned into a different class of stellar object by an out-of-context problem.
This may have been better with Godzilla
You unconditionally surrender to the emus.
You unconditionally surrender to the rabbits.
You unconditionally surrender to the tardigrades.
The kobolds are using only javelins.
Eve gains a second, slightly smaller eve, then explodes.
Your use of fusilli rather than rotini in your noodle rocket proves absolutely disastrous.
Senator William Proxmire provides an accurate description of the value of your research.
In your anger at the results, you flip a table.
In a cataclysmic disaster that affects the orbit of planets in parallel dimensions, the entire Kerbol system is obliterated and returned to the primordial soup from whence it came.
So much blood :(
Blood for the Blood Gods. All of them.
You have driven the kerbals to extinction.
Your science results are rejected from vixra due to their low quality.
Surprisingly, nothing has yet gone catastrophically wrong.
You gain a great many Dark Side points for that.
The missile no longer knows where it is.
Skippy calls you a stupid monkey. The plan works.
Laplace's Dæmon has no idea what you're up to.
You have made Dres real.
The Vallhenge is activated, and performs its primary function of [DATA EXPUNGED].
Your hilarious yet thrilling exploits are optioned by Hollywood to become a major film series.
You live to witness man-made horrors beyond your comprehension.
You live to witness man-made horrors within your comprehension.
You live to witness kerbal-made horrors beyond your comprehension.
You die before witnessing man-made horrors within your comprehension.
The Kraken flees from your designs in terror.
You die before witnessing mad-made horrors beyond your comprehension
The rocket won't stop flipping, so you replace the RCS thrusters with sideways-firing Mainsails. Now it works.
All the carbon monoxide alarms go off at once
It turns out that this rocket design is Turing complete.
You live and let die.
At least you got a lot of XP from all those kerbals you killed.
You are awarded the Kollier Trophy
Your mission becomes horribly bugged due to being covered in tardigrades.
The entire population of Kerbin witnesses the outcome -- the first few milliseconds at least.
Your craft becomes completely entangled in the Quantum
You become trapped in a hell of your own making.
Дмитрий Рогозин questions the quality of your brooms.
All your questions about Kerbal anatomy are answered at once.
Shapiro delays your data return.
You are dubbed felonious by the laws of physics.
Despite a series of investigations, no-one is ever quite sure why.
Your kerbals drown in the Dirac Sea.
Everyone else ignores this until far, *far* too late
Jeb accidentally drops the catalyst water into the ocean.
You finally get that earth-shattering kaboom you were expecting for so long.
The Kraken sends a scathing email to mission control, demanding they inform you of its displeasure.
It's the perfect murder weapon of the modern age... the LUL
Technically the rocket merely experienced a rapid deflagration and never detonated.
...but they were all of them deceived, for the Nazgûl had cosmonaut training...
This proves to be the final straw. You are exiled from Kerbin forever.
An outbreak of common sense sweeps through KSC. Operations are disrupted until a vaccine is developed.
Wernher changes his last name to German.
Jeb is judged to weigh decidedly less than a duck.
Cirno is embarassed by your poor math skills.
As you move from LKO to KEO your space ship gains potential energy and you wonder if that increases its mass, too, because E=mc^2.
As you move from KEO to LKO your space ship gains kinetic energy and you wonder if that increases its mass, too, because E=mc^2.
I'm sucking up your I.Q., vacuuming your cortex, feeding off your brain!
MUSTAKRAKISH
Erwin Schrödinger kills you like a cat in a box. Maybe.
You wish you hadn't.
Never give up. Never surrender.
The decadal survey determines that your projects are the lowest priority and should be wound down.
Always Look On the Bright Side of Life begins to play
You are attacked by the Infinite Space Goose
You pioneer a hypergolic trajectory.
This kills the kerbal.
This kills a god.
You fall off the Edge.
Cyril is disappointed in your abilities.
You could make a religion out of this.
Flying in the face of logic the entire time.
MOM! Phineas and Ferb are building a rocket again!
You can't sleep 'cause your bed's on fire...
Extending legal jurisdiction to outer space is suddenly a priority.
The FAA grounds you for another hundred years.
You open your door, and - KERBS
You crash so hard that KSP crashes so hard that your gaming device explode. Government will be forever mystified on crater that you was at.
It is immeasurably thick! (about 6 centimeters)
Epsicles abound
You bet your wet booty.
You Musk so well you lose your girlfriend.
Alas, it turns out there never was a Kontainer of Amontillado.
You are labeled as an existential threat.
Truck-kun would like you to stop isekeing so many kerbals.
You're unsure where to bury the survivors.
Your kerbals are reduced to a goo^H^H^Hsoup-like homogenate in under 30 seconds.
Jeb frowns at the results.
Your plans are foiled by the Great White Shirt
Sorry, kids. Daddy was pontificating.
Your rockets' flight certificates are revoked.
Wannacry encrypts your rocket access codes.
Your guidance computer restarts mid-flight to install updates.
You decide it's probably something to do with quantum.
You are caught playing KSP at work and promoted on the spot!
This proves disastrous for you and the population of Dres
You found the 兎.
You find the source of the mysterious scent using your Smell-o-scope.
There are foreseen consequences.
Everything except the flare stack is on fire.
Your blubbering displeases the Kraken.
These baby-smashing hammers are great!
Your solar panel collides with terrain and is destroyed.
Kerbin's oceans boil off.
The public demonizes you, and YouTube demonetizes you.
Your launch is a failure, but your lunch is delicious.
Laythe freezes over.
Your rocket sinks the recovery barge.
The Kraken splashed down hard and was destroyed.
Jeb gets a clavier to the clavicle.
Gauss and Jordan eliminate you.
Your strings are null-terminated.
The KAL-1000 looks at the options and asks to play a nice game of chess instead.
LOOK, MUMMY, THERE'S AN AEROPLANE UP IN THE SKY.
You rise up, gather round, and rock the KSC to the ground.
Jeb is pleased to hear that he's a sexy youtube motherlover.
peer resets your connection to kerbnet.
Your SRBs are liquidated.
Why are you like this?
You decide to retire before anyone notices how this is going.
You get retired before you are able to see how this is going.
You regret this for the rest of your Kerbals' lives.
You regret nothing.
You regret everything.
Your vessel explodes in a shower of paperwork.
You are filled with determination.
You are filled with deuterium.
You discover the dogs comprised of compressed and superheated carbon and introduce them to the arachnids from the planet sometimes known as Duna.
Bad biscuits make the baker broke, bro.
The nuclear weasels are devoured by the Cosmic Owl, such is the course of nature.
A nuclear raven steals your donuts, three at a time.
Some shrine maiden and an ordinary witch are required to solve this Incident.
You disappear in a puff of illogic.
You shatter everyone's previous expectations of flan
There was much rejoicing.
And the people did feast upon the lambs, and sloths, and carp, and anchovies, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats, and large chulapas.
Bananas are now wildly out of scale.
You hit a stack decoupler overflow error.
You are pinned to the ceiling by the reactor vessel plug.
Your plans are foiled by a semi-nude Eric Andre...
It's probably something to do with quantum.
Sandbox sandboxes in sandbox.
The oceans are now creepy, and the landmasses are now wet.
This negatively impacts your attempts in getting the KSPCA of off your backs.
The space HOA calls you in for various violations you did on that mission.
Your launch is scrubbed because of stuck valves.
Love Shack! Baby, F-Dome!
At least your crew capsules can be easily repurposed as spy satellites.
Everything goes totally bursar.
Damn! Got the angle wrong.
Why not?
You sink your mandibles into a reflective metal posterior.
You raise your baton. The glass kettle drums pound out the the overture. Your vision clouds with blood. You wipe it away and continue. The xylophonist's hair bursts into a violet flame, but he continues playing. He's either a consummate professional or very drunk indeed...
Kartoffelsalat abounds!
You lose your forklift certification.
You aim for home, but catch the Sun. Very inspirational.
A rogue M comes out of nowhere, smacking into you.
You do not recognize the bodies in the water.
Lead bursts from every wall, pillar and floorboard.
They're beginning to learn...
Ich höre dich rufen
You burn up exiting the atmosphere, exploding at 50,200m
The resulting substance is coarse, rough, and irritating, and gets everywhere.
You salvage your damaged return vehicle using a trick you learned from an episode of Duck Tales.
The alignment of the gyroscopes takes too long and you miss your launch window.
BLAAAAAGH!
It's too late. You've awakened the gazebo. It catches you and eats you.
You find your self alone, ten years in the future, with no-one but the LunchBot to keep you company.
You quit after 30 seconds.
Your gyros saturate.
it was all just a coup to get more snacks.
The planet is destroyed by an amused octopus
How could you do this, Koro-Sensei?!
The results are Gnom-Catastrophic.
The void stares back at you.
The void meows at you, and asks for pets.
You learn the difference between kerbalnauts and kerbalnazis.
(Wetly)
You succeed on mission! unfortunately it was NEXT mission that was launched. Mission you was supposed to start is now late.
The Mün dust makes you bleed, so you set off in search of Even Crazier Spacedust.
You delete your mods, realising you were playing the wrong game the whole time.
Your save is corrupted, and now you must pay a "fee" of several thousand funds each time you enter a building.
5000m up, your fuel bags rupture, showering everyone below.
Porcine prelates pester you with pointless problems. Perfect.
The kraken attacks during a cutscene.
6 Thargoids ambush you in hyperspace on a C-64.
The floating point gods throw you in jitter hell.
The Kraken dances you to the end of love.
Jeb begins to Morb.
Jeb reveals that the maniacal grin is part of his contract.
BWEEP BWAARRP BWEEP BWAARRP.
It snows out of season.
Beware the Mice of Jool.
A miscalculated leap for the hatch lands you squarely on your solar panels, snapping them off.
You experience a premature deployment; your partner was unsatisfied.
Stop, what with the killing, and the laughter, already!
Slevey Kerman is instantly spaghettified.
Your punctuation pops your weather balloon.
Maybe you should have rejected that contract...
You get so lost you land in Carcosa.
You start a fire without a spark and prove Bruce Springsteen wrong.
That's right, it goes in the square hole!
You pass your exam, and are fully licensed as a pilot.
Your plans confuse Tzeentch.
All kerbals spontaneously combust.
You find that a spoonful of KNO2 does not, in fact, help the medicine go down.
You learn the true meaning of "squeak" in bubble and squeak.
Jeb grins so widely he dislocates his jaw.
A zombie apocalypse sweeps across Kerbin, made worse because zombified Kerbals are *still* greenish so you can't tell from a distance.
The floor becomes very sticky.
The mission was a complete success!
"Thousand" is mistranslated as "gold", which leads to some confusion.
The Kraken tires of attacking and decides to defend instead.
Everybody wangs, everybody chungs.
You are strangled by your own robotic arm-tentacle.
And thus the world was doomed.
+++OUT OF CHEESE ERROR+++?REDO FROM START+++
You will never be forgiven.
You discover what happens when matter meets antimatter. (Kaboom! Now nothing matters.)
You learn the hard way that a containment failure is not just a burst of 511 keV gammas, but also a shower of pions which *then* decay into MeV-GeV gammas, muons, and beta particles.
Let the die be cast!
The Kraken dines on your kerbals.
The Kraken drinks all the mystery goo.
The Sandwich Lunch System is once again delayed.
You land with so much force the Mun disintegrates.
This costs you the lives of 70 mostly innocent crewmembers.
This results in- Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?
The resulting explosion is mostly harmless.
Everyone complains about the spoilers, even though they decrease the amount of runway your craft needs by 92%.
Jeb is awarded a goldish medal for bravery.
All of your craft are destroyed (yes, even that one)
This probably has something to do with quantum.
This probably has something to do with anime.
You're basically honorary nasty.
You set fire to the rain.
You sing "We Didn't Start the Fire" but no-one believes you.
You suffer a magical nasty accident involving a prow.
Gill falls into Eve.
What does that mean, Bob? Where the cows been?
You get bored and go for lunch instead.
You get the clamps
You want it darker...we kill the flame.
it's all crab bucket
In the furthest reaches, beyond the abyss, you find the wreckage of those who came before you.
Oh. mule-mug, starchild! oh, donkeypuss!
Your impromptu large-scale work of participatory sculpture, "Kerbin without its atmosphere", wins the Turner Prize after an acrimonious nomination process.
You have entered into atmospheric flight above Minmus.
This really makes it sink in that kerbals have teeth.
Idle hands are a kerbal's plaything.
Due to a clerical error, nobody died.
Valentina loses all of her snacks due to extreme overheating.
There has to be blood. There always has to be blood. What is the point if there is no blood?
Due to a clerical error, the kraken is resurrected while your kerbals stay dead.
You leave your rocket on the launchpad too long and the launch escape system is activated by the rotation of Kerbin.
Ignoring the lawsuit does not make it go away.
It is every kerbal's final duty to enter the goo tanks.
This is bad for business.
All kerbals lose interest in spaceflight, you focus on gardening instead.
You know who else does things like that? MY MOM!
This was universally regarded to be a poor choice.
Oh no! There's too much power - it's unstable!
Let's try that again, but with less failure.
Nanites received.
This angers the legendary Bork.
You are bread.
You maintain complete control over the craft during your descent into terrain.
During your rescue mission you find Tim Curry who escaped to space.
The repercussions, while negligible, will be felt for decades to come.
Satan oscillates your metallic sonatas.
"Jebediah Kerman exploded due to overheating."
Your boosters overheat due to exploding.
It's alright, just slap a booster on it.
Jebediah here survives! He goes through a wormhole right before he explodes, aaaand he ends up right back at the astronaut complex. Ferus does not make it.
Your controller has been disconnected.
Unfortunately, this is while still on the launch pad.
Musk teases you with the big rocket.
Delicious!
What the cringe is going on here?!
B-E-A-Utiful!
Help, I'm trapped in a mission factory.
Mama said there'd be days like this.
In a sudden moment of clarity, you realise Kerbals are speaking reversed, pitch changed Spanish. You wonder if it is HarvesteR's voice.
After a few hours of button-mashing, you invent the perfect Kerbal dance moves for every planetary body.
Kmath rises up and kills all the Kerbals.
Unfortuantely, the KAL-1000 can't do that for Dave Kerman.
Dinosaur invasion begins.
The future is the future now.
It’s ludicrous nonsense. It’s not even a solution to the stated problem. It’s just a bigger and grander version of the original problem, running in parallel.
The only thing left to do is fail.
Your tourist explodes.
...Presenting to the emergency room, where we are now.
You may be Jeb's favorite, maybe! (maybe)
Just imagine how much worse it would be for your space program if you *hadn't* unlocked additional launch sites before that test.
You are diagnosed with Kessler Syndrome.
Poison? Explosives? Acid? ... Poisonous exploding acid.
You grow some replacement Jebs in the clone tanks, but they eat each other.
Yoha obliterates you.
You wake up thinking it was all a dream. If only.
There is much rejoicing.
Reality questions you back.
At last, the secrets of the turboencabulator are revealed!
Here's Wonderwall.
Your insane purity of vision deserves to be rewarded.
You collide with a dirigible behemothaur.
MechJeb proves to be no less reckless than Real Jeb.
A goat futures bubble disrupts runway operations and causes significant damage to your aircraft.
Your code is summarily executed.
You get homogenized.
For you, failure is not only an option - it's, like, absolutely mandatory.
Your project downgrades most spaceflight technologies to TRL 0.
"We know you broke some part of the Kerbal Aviation Act, and as soon as we decide which part it is, some type of charge will be filed. If you had a pilot's license, we'd suspend that. But you don't."
Eve is so darn purple.
The only solution is to use Mammoth engine clusters for attitude control.
Jebediah Kerman, Astronaut has gone stark raving mad! [...] Jebediah Kerman, Astronaut, has burned up in magma.
Jebediah Kerman, Astronaut cancels Pilot Vessel: Went insane.
Some of your crew escape the ship and return to Kerbin. Some go off seeking Ultima. Some are doomed to "SOMA," an exile where you sleep for a billion years. Most of them experience bizarre space deaths that even now don't make a lot of sense.
ERROR: -41
Jeb replaces that missing eye with a flashlight. It's terrifying.
The resulting rocket is of the finest craftkerbalship. It menaces with spikes of boosters.
Kerbal science leaps forward a generation.
The raptor's banhammer has been located.
Due to a translation error, your rocket lunches from the cafeteria.
You keep adding equipment to your craft until there's nowhere for the crew to sit.
You were curious to see what would happen. Now you know.
You just put this over here with the rest of the fire.
The music brings you to tears.
Due to a translation error, your rocket spawns several km offset from the pad, and falls into the ocean.
Death has a near-Jeb experience.
Wernher has spoken.
The fire alarm keeps going off. After resetting it three times you send Mitdun Kerman to fix it. He reports back that he can't access it because the cargo bay is full of smoke. You reset it seven times more until it melts and stops going off. When Bill wakes up and asks about the smoke you tell him the fire alarm is faulty.
Your intercept is bungled by a giganotosaurus.
The internet engineering task force detains you for what you have done.
AN entire town dies in the process.
Jeb falls into the orbital toilet.
Your porpoise is missed by nefarious foil.
Jeb's head asplode.
Jeb gets arrested.
Althego already fixed it incorrectly. Full Stop.
You get addicted to deep space coffee.
We are the dead.
A misplaced apostrophe sends the whole thing spinning into the void.
Probe doesn't give you lemons! Probe gives you Data!
Well, that was Ian!
Your capsule answers 404 and leaves without you.
You are aborted by Kountdown.
You get nothing! You lose! Good day, sir!
A weird pointy dog comes to you via magic.
Jeb splats.
You find the toilet in the Astronaut Complex.
You wonder what the hell is that weird round mountain on the horizon. It's Duna.
The Mun rises above the horizon and you sail into it.
You open your inflatable heat shield and fly away, exclaiming: "I'm Mary Poppins y'all!"
There would have been so much fire if Jeb hadn't got the fire out.
you didn't eat your breakfast and forgot how the sun works.
You realize that the landing in "Moon landing" was permanent.
You discover that you *weren't* in a simulation after all. All those things you did 'without consequences' have consequences.
Conspiracy theorists find proof that your Mun landing was fake and actually took place on Moho
You are consumed by the Jeeb
Two bounces, a roll, and all was still.
In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea.
Debatable.
Space kraken comes to your base! To ask why you did that.
It's fortunate that no-one seemed to live on Kerbin outside the space agency.
þufferin' þuccotash!
This is due to a tiny fluctuation in the velociraptor.
The fuel and the fire turns out to be what you desire.
Wernher von Kerman orders Bob to buy him a dozen bratwursts on the way back from the supermarket.
Inconceivable!
You keep using that module. I do not think it serves the the function you think it serves.
Westley Kerman returns, years later, as the new Dread Pirate Roberts.
Gene points out the ambiguity of whether the onion or the resurrection, or both, contained malice.
You find yourself in the distant future. So distant, in fact, that there is now a KSP2 Pocket Edition.
And fools they be who fail to see why you hold your engines dear - for the engine room is a temple raised to the God of the Engineer.
The Uranium Director is supercritical of your activities in the Enrichment Center, and bans you.
You begin giggling uncontrollably, in a brittle sort of way.
Wow.
You give up on KSP and take up Balsa Model Flight Simulator instead.
The Kraken is born of fire and darkness and ice (and chunks of Eeloo)
Jeb starts tripping spaceballs
wher kerban spays progam 2?
To a better tomorrow!
Rest is good for the blood.
Jeb contracts tetanus.
Bill gets sent into the sun as punishment for his crimes.
You achieve world peace through superior firepower.
Even the Kraken is on fire.
The mission report asymptotically approaches its conclusion, with increasingly precise timestamps.
Due to a calculation error, your mission is known as the "Seven Millenia of Terror".
Hey in least they won't die by old age!
You see Three Stripes in the sky, an ill omen.
The KAEA investigators are baffled.
Jeb sends you his resignation.
You have destroyed Laythe's last remaining islands.
You find and kill the Kraken.
Bob mishears a callout as "LD go for lunch" and the flight is delayed.
The whole experience is Type 3 fun.
Bill conducts the pre-flight walkaround and finds there's an engine missing.
The outcome is so bad you develop time travel to undo it. Everything gets very complicated.
Tradition would dictate that what happens next is fall, and ruin, and betrayal that leaves a bitter taste in one’s mouth until death clears it away.
You are become Jeb, destroyer of worlds.
Your orbital railgun is too literal; now you need some orbital trains.
Some said the world would end in fire; some said in ice. No-one predicted kittens.
You hit that bullseye, and the rest of the dominos fall like a house of cards. Checkmate.
You are alone on a planet solely inhabited by robots. And they are all hunting you.
Pseudopods intensify.
The military take your rocket for research into what not to do.
KAIB announced that it was writing a safety digest into this incident. Having assessed further evidence which has come to light since this decision was taken, KAIB has now decided to carry out an investigation.
You do this not because it is easy, but because you thought it was going to be easy.
Eva Kerman goes on an EVA and the control loop turns into an Airplane! sketch.
You're not afraid of heights, but bloody terrified of the ground.
This lays waste to everything not in sight.
Your splines are damaged. You wonder if reticulating them would help.
Bob thinks that's a bit too extreme.
Your program seems to be working fine, and then it tries to display a string that should say “Hello world,” but instead it prints “#a[5]:3!” or another syntactically correct Perl script.
You mistype the "Hello world!" example program into the flight sequencer and get an output of "Hellorld!" instead.
A penguin enters your office and installs Linux on all your rocket control computers.
A bittern bites the brittle bits.
Your kerbonauts come back looking like burnt toast.
It looks like the neutrinos coming from the Sun have mutated into a new kind of nuclear particle.
The rocket soars away from the pad, then plummets. A plume of smoke rises over the mountains.
Your second stage doesn't have enough DV
Your plans are foiled by the light at the end of the runway.
You're sad you wasted your time even entertaining this stupidity.
Despite being crazy pseudoscience it's still kinda compelling.
It's as if the water is TRYING to exist... but can't.
YOU'RE WINNER !
A lone tumbleweed rolls through space.
Your rocket surprises everyone by imploding this time.
Your rocket implodes, you repair it, then it explodes, you repair it again and launch it.
Your name is mysteriously capitalized.
Kaboosh!
Some key points are lost in translation.
All is consumed by the fire.
Your genius is duly recognised.
KSP's aerodynamic model lets you down hard, both literally and metaphorically.
You are jolted awake by the noise of a thousand pieces of metal smashing into the ground.
You can do better.
Jeb gets better again... as usual.
You feel the guilt of putting a panicked cat in a carrier.
You are disentoweled (a disastrous punishment).
Your attempts to harness the lightning fail, as it burns right through the leather.
Somehow this triggers the Alpacalypse.
It almost works, you just need to refine your piloting skills a bit. After another 20 tries you're not so sure.
While watching the explosions, you realize the truth in the ancient wisdom: this too shall pass.
You travel back in time to avoid responsibility.
The last few decades' mysterious population growth turns out to have been time travelers jumping back to avoid today's event.
The only result is a brown fatty emulsion that you're not sure how to dispose of.
You are suspended outside the real world, and this could be any time, any place, ever.
The Shivans destroy your Mun base.
You discover Jool's surface does exist, and is merely obscured by gas storms kicked up by Jack Black's power of ROCK
The prolonged climb exacerbates duractance flux in the compressor phase in the high-bypass engines fitted to your craft, and its turbo-encabulator fails.
Gene dubs the scheme ACRONYM (Awesome CReativity Of Naming Your Mission)
You blame it on your ADD.
You blame it on the KGB.
Val is put under medical supervision after experiencing a mild case of death.
You are praised for your ingenuity and promoted.
The science returns advance Kerbal civilisation measurably.
Your disappointment is immeasurable and your day is ruined.
The authorities finally install ILS on the runway, but it only works if your plane is inverted.
After trials, you add a hydraulic flipper arm to roll the craft upright.
It turns out that a perpetual motion machine is as real as the air, dark matter and intermolecular vacuum.
Your pronouncement is met with shock, followed by a growing sense of awe.
That'll buff out.
You get buffed out.
You get rebuffed.
There is nothing you can say which is wholly adequate to this occasion.
Disconnected. Host unreachable.
You communicate with the ground via gravioli particles
Jeb eats your lunch.
You don't think it's fire. Fire would be a lot less drippy.
You wait 8 hours at the hospital.
You end up in the Mohole, upside down.
This ends in an argument as to whether OSHA violations are NSFW content.
The LunchBot wags its metaphorical tail.
The metaphor breaks your spine.
Unlimited Booster Works!
Please return to your cubicle and resume productivity
You are trapped in a time loop.
You were so successful that there is no outcome.
The economy does better, because not everyone is dead.
The magnetometer boom, well, goes boom.
Although sugar and caffeine can keep you vaguely awake for a long while, they don't work forever.
Your fuel tanks are converted to solid boosters
You accidentally find Hoffa after crash landing at a yard.
Wernher von Kerman giggles.
They find classified documents in your failed project pile.
You leave out several critical intermediate steps.
Your speed becomes negative.
Jeb exits, pursued by a bear.
The feeling is very fast, yes, but also elastic. Like you're using big rubber bands to shoot yourself into the horizon.
Your craft careers through several trees and then a large boulder, miraculously sustaining no damage.
Cheer up! If all else fails, you can set the building on fire.
Sequential budget cuts force reduction of your project's scope, until eventually your goal is to purchase a small cheese sandwich.
You unlock a worse ending.
It's raining and even the seagulls are on strike.
Jeb's Homebrew 75% Ginger Ale tastes suspiciously metallic.
This has a Deddly outcome for all involved.
You decide the mission should be uncrewed for safety and mass budget reasons, but Jeb sneaks into the fairing just before launch.
Time warp causes Jeb to hibernate.
It's extremely complex and high risk.
Moon's big.
Moon's haunted.
Moon's big and haunted.
Your ships line up and file directly into the alien death cannons, clogging them with wreckage.
There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight.
Only villians do that.
A cloud of vacuum spreads downwind from KSC, causing environmental damage and potential health risks.
A dyson sphere falls on your head.
Miraculously you don't quite crash.
Your launch is delayed one day due to nyancats.
Valentina quits the space program and becomes a vtuber.
Your craft doesn't fly, it can just go up.
This might return enough science data for you to invent the ladder.
Your announcement speech contains a fluff line about casting one's eyes skyward, leading to an unfortunate incident with Tindun Kerman and a catapult.
Physics betrays you just after takeoff.
Clone vats decant Kerbals you had killed by a mission. Again.
It's now always Monday. Always. And there's no coffee.
You "revert to launch" by installing KSP version 0.7.3.
ATC is confused as to why you want to descend to FL 850, but clears you anyway.
You save your afternoon by reverting to lunch.
The Kraken's mother haunts you in your sleep.
The mystery goo in your hydraulics throw a foam party.
This really rocks Newton's cradle.
Sbe fbzr ernfba, nyy gur perj ercbegf ner frag onpx va ebg13.
Nunn Kerman, having had no training on what to do in the event of a fire, leaves it and goes in search of a potato to throw out of the window.
It soon becomes obvious why no-one has done this before.
The police is already waiting for you outside.
It's a very successful failure.
Val lets out an exhausted sigh and resets the "days since last fatality" counter.
Sting writes a catchy and poignant song about it.
The devs fix the bug you were exploiting to make this work.
Unfortunately, they're all facing in opposite directions.
Your parachutes decide they have had enough for today and go for a drink at the bottom of the ocean.
An emergency rover brings you to the emergency room where we are now.
This is catastrophically successful.
Hijinks ensue after Jeb discovers he'd packed two left spacesuit gloves.
This strikes you as rather Kafkaesque.
You contract Space Fever and get inspired to cover a Bee Gees song.
You prevent Allah from doing.
Skill Issue.
You are blasted with pre-alpha particles
It occurs to you that if this is not an abomination in the eyes of God that will lead to your eternal damnation, it represents a marvellous business opportunity.
You mix up brachistochrone trajectories and brachiosaur trajectories and land 152 million years in the past.
While threading the eye of the needle of debris, you notice a kerbal is missing.
You doze off and the fire runs away from you.
The low temperatures increase the viscosity of Val's snack paste and she can't eat it. She gets very tetchy.
The Kraken dines upon you.
This is such a cool idea you start a YouTube channel to share it with the world. No-one watches it.
Lyapunov deems both you and your craft unstable.
This triggers the explodium sea to explode.
The Lava Beatles write a song about it.
The authorities put a launch clamp on your launch clamp over the resulting debt.
And then this happened.
They were so convincing in their argument!
So, you must be asking yourself: What the f*** happened? But first: AAAAAAA...
Very no.
27 seconds into flight your craft experiences peak hydrodynamic pressure.
The Kraken krashes Kubuntu.
You are unexpectedly Zorged.
:thonk:
This is where you come in.
You accidentally press ctrl-w instead of shift-w.
You lost your rocket because a software update invalidated your license.
While arguably unethical, this yields good results.
Due to gravitational lensing, you miss your target.
Due to gravitational lensing you explore the same target twice.
A beaver takes up residence in the flame trench and you can't get rid of it.
Instead of going to space, you go to cyberspace.
Someone mispronounces the K in Kerman as Tsh ant saddenli efriwan spiks laik sis.
A few minutes later, it dawns on you how dangerous this is and you cancel the mission. Jeb mutinies and does it anyway.
Crosswinds throw off the docking manoeuvre and your craft gets wedged sideways.
Neil DeGrasse Tyson complains about the physics in KSP.
Reddit implodes. It may or may not be your fault.
You desert into the desert and eat dessert.
You do the thing. You do ALL the things!
You deny it happened, and no-one can prove otherwise.
It's a flop, but the resulting technology contributes to your later successes.
Very noise.
It's like Third Orleans down there. All that's missin' is th' zombies.
Étendue is no longer conserved.
Kerbals are legally allowed to stab you for that.
Even KSC Disaster Documentaries refuses to mention what happened next.
Everyone prays we'll get to know what happened before the heat death of the universe.
You vow to succeed or die trying.
You are exiled to a forest where you learn what the fox says.
You get bored of the situation and have some lunch.
You can see the nail heads holding the wooden framework together. Very sloppy workmanship, actually.
It...seems to work, so far. Well done!
No-one gets the reference.
You blow your advance on Ovalkwik and fresh kittens.
The aspect ratio changes ominously.
If you're going to put all your eggs in one basket, you might as well use an exploding basket.
Val's sarcasm is more accurate than your paranoia.
The resultant expanding gas cloud caused synesthesia in the affected life forms.
The faint polka music emitted was heard by everyone in the observable universe.
Cousin Lorbish photosynthesizes.
As punishment, someone created a time machine so they could prevent the invention of bacon.
You cross another entry off of the Geneva checklist.
You somehow succeed due to the sheer power of irony.
You fail the Voight-Kampff test.
Congratulations on committing the first Super-Felony!
All affected parties end up noticeably moistened.
A small confetti explosion happens due to buffoonery function collapse.
Gene would rather stick with something more attainable. Like curing cancer, or eating the Mun.
Many small steps for a Kerbal, one small step for science.
All kerbals are revealed to be the same kerbal, at different stages of their life.
Your scientists dig up the black hole and it eats you.
W-what did you do to that crew?
Your INSANE design SHOCKS the entire space industry.
The entire planet is tired of your shenanigans; so you have been forced to literally dance with the stars.
You are blinked out of existence by a sudden raptop.
From now on all computer science and IT jobs will be referred to as "beep boop." As in "oh man I am running late for beep boop." Or "Bill has been beep booping professionally for 15 years."
In the long run, this is a pretty good decision.
Whoops! Here comes Mr. Jelly!
Teatime!
You better look out, and you better not cry. Santa is coming for you in an XB-70 Valkyr-eye.
The garbage collector deletes your rocket.
Good news, guys! They can't bite through the hardsuits!
Some baffles added to your O'Neill cylinder prevent the unwanted hurricanes.
All that's left is a giant hole in the ground.
The size of the paying is inversely proportional to the likelihoods of surviving for the collecting.
Lots of different things appear to go wrong before it blows up, which means a lot to learn from
You wake the Captain when the hurricane becomes sapient and grows missile pods.
As long as he doesn't do anything reckless or stupid, Jeb will be just fine.
And history repeats itself once again.
Please tell Captain Jigglenauts to fire up the band.
This is entirely too much cheese
Not even the Listening Monks heard anything more of Jeb...
What part of that sounds safe to you? If you are not a little scared, you don’t understand what is going on.
The crew's music playlists cannot be reconciled, except with blood.
Your rocket barely survives; and all the in-flight entertainment is destroyed... Except for the VCR and a VHS tape of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country.
Your Kerbals are affected, and can only chant "Rock and Stone!" ad infinitum.
De-do-do-do, De-da-da-da, that's all I want to say to you.
Melford splashed down safely and was recovered.
Say what you like about the alien killer crabs, but by God they can organise an invasion! We have a lot to learn from them - though we'd better be quick!
As often happens on clear nights, the stars seem now to be in perspective, now on a plane; now piled tier beyond tier into the infinite heavens, now concealing infinity, a roof limiting for ever the visions of Kerbals.
You find yourself handcuffed in the back of a police car.
Despite all the explosions, the mission is deemed a success.
Your aquatic capsule recovery observer is renamed to a floating point unit.
Bill, Bob, Jeb, and Val take one look at your rocket and all promptly tender their resignations.
You are promoted after your supervisor explodes.
The launch site is quarantined for 1000 years.
When you try to light a cigar to celebrate your success, everything goes up in flames.
Contrary to popular belief, things can actually work out as intended.
Your success is rewarded with a mandate to do something even crazier.
You learn how to say "owned" in Russian.
You wish the consequences were unimaginable; that way you wouldn't keep imagining them.
The resulting explosion blew right past nuclear pasta into the baffling new world of nuclear taquitos.
This caused the NFPA diamond to now contain several 5s.
Your only map of the area vanishes out of the copilot's window.
The local media starts asking "Does the space program take away our Jebs?"
The marzel-vanes detach from the ambifacient wane shaft, and your turboencabulator succumbs to side-fumbling.
Turns out the spelling mistakes didn't matter.
When will you ever learn.
The eyes of children widen whenever they hear this tale.
Your father arrives; and vents all sorts of dadly radiation.
The mission conclusively demonstrates overcaniality, but the naysayers refuse to accept it.
Gene pulls you out of a meeting and instructs you never to mention that again, ever.
You trap Samsara Kerman in a cycle of death and respawning.
You survive on a special food supplement made from beef jerky, raisins, and fat, which is moulded into the walls of your craft before you set off.
You delete all the screenshots after a week so the Internet doesn't get full.
That fireball is nothing to worry about.
Not even an inspector with the Memento Mortem watch can find out how the crew died.
Your entire workforce mutates into weirdly-proportioned green frog creatures.
The PR department is working out a coverstory how the crop circles really formed.
There seems to have been a miscommunication when they implemented "snake" on the guidance computer of your spaceplane.
An inspector draws Jeb's attention to a low pressure gauge, to which he brightly replies that the needle is "on its second time around."
Tests for a key subsystem accidentally duniform Kerbin.
You become entirely sessile, the computer an appendage of your body and the KSP simulation your mind.
The aliens explain that "Your ship. Is mathematically incorrect."
Your reusable stage turns out to be less reusable than you thought.
Bill Kerman reacts implosively, and emits blinding neutrino radiation.
All of half of your landing ship have landed on Mun intact!
The surface of Kerbin disappears, turning the planet into a naked singularity.
Everything ends with darsie giving you a ".".
Your aerospike powered rocket becomes the largest jart on record.
Good thing you have Rockomax Litigation Services on retainer.
You wake up and it's cold. Like, really cold. Brrrr.
And it seems that it was always like that whole time.
A kerbal named Maxwell sees, through the storm, three descending streams of fire and then nothing but darkness. All sound is torn away by the wind.
The explosion was so massive that up arrow notation isn't large enough to describe the explosion's yield.
Atmosphere? Where we go we don't need an atmosphere!
The milkshakes began attracting excessive attention due to setting off several systems relating to the early warning of tsunamis.
Are you just crazy or also insane?
Fortunately, this course of action was the most sane thing you could think of.
The Ultramarines touchdown.
You fix the staging. Once again.
At least you have really mastered the art of counting backwards.
How many times did you fix staging again?
You forgot to add mission-critical parts.
Only cricket noises remain.
The international community frowns due to your shenanigans.
Your ship disappears, and until observation the crew is both dead and alive at the same time.
The only evidence remaining of your failure is a tiny blip in a gravitational wave detector on the other side of the galaxy.
Any survivors of the explosion wind up with a totally unrelated case of Vanadium poisoning.
The Kerbals in Black arrive and begin issuing mandatory "eye exams."
Through quantum shenanigans; everything everywhere is slightly less round than before.
You're not the one lying there dead, so you win.
Bob screams "Bank left!" so you bank left and hit the bank to your left.
Everyone involved is desysopped.
That turned out pretty well, considering.
Reality got desync'd and you wake up in your VR suit.
The real adventure was the friends we made along the way.
You wonder why you're putting all this effort into a game when there are so many real-life problems to solve.
You poison the expedition leader with arsenic, and get away with it for almost a century.
For purposes unknown, you choose to issue the ship's supply of firearms to the crew.
The remaining evidence of your crimes is nearly unrecognizable; like some sort of fragrance commercial.
You are truncated by a floating point.
That's a pretty neat idea. I should try it.
There's Kerbals on the starboard bow!
Your launch fails because of your incorrect level of politeness.
The event horizon created was crossed unnoticed.
Your foolhardy experiment forces Planck-scale elementary particles to collapse into the lowest energy state possible; instantly ending the universe. Woopsy daisy.
You can finally sleep now.
The princess is on another planet.
Even the flames are on fire.
Your launch is cancelled due to political infighting.
All the skin peels off your arms.
World Peace is finally reached.
You get stuck and a tug has to come and drag you away.
You don't know all of the answers in life, but you do know all of the things which aren't the answers, and this idea falls into the same category as Scientology, homeopathic medicine, and making dogs wear tiny sweaters due to a misplaced belief that this is what dogs would do if they had access to looms and opposable thumbs.
As you approach the surface of Jool you see your reflection in a metallic hydrogen mirror and watch your space suit collapse in horror.
To everyone's surprise this didn't result in a giant explosion, it just sort of fizzled out.
At least that planet was uninhabited.
Hell thaws up just to freeze over a second time.
To be fair, your actions were justified in context.
The firefighters just shrug in utter hopelessness.
Common sense should have predicted this outcome.
The resulting explosion is visible from space. That's less remarkable than it sounds because it's *in* space, but Mitdun certainly has a good view.
You realize that the stars actually are the souls of your ancestors.
You require a moment to recontextualize the transitory nature of organic life.
Having believed yourself to be totally blind for five years, you suddenly discover that you had merely been wearing too large a helmet.
The error was rated "M" for "Mission Critical"
You ostensibly succeed!
Congratulations on being the inspiration for the Teller-Ulam design!
For some totally unrelated and completely unintentional (we swear, give us a polygraph) reason... Cobalt-Thorium-G was detected in the aftermath.
Despite the gargantuan scale of collateral damage, no city ordinances were broken.
Technically there are survivors... but any witnesses have had a small case of neural solubility.
You have awakened a Kraken, and contaminated it with Strontium-90.
Your progress to the next war crime has risen by an additive 30%.
Val sighs and restarts the secondary "Bone Remover 3000."
In an attempt to hide the evidence; you replaced the exposed Mystery Goo with the least fresh mayonnaise you could find.
Splat.
The needs of one DO outweigh the needs of many.
You forgot to add the part that the entire project depends on.
You are triggered.
Turns out that no amount of distance you can put between people stops them from fraternizing.
It took some serious convincing for the investors to believe it was a success.
This somehow increases your stock valuation.
The turtles have awoken.
biHnuch!
The Cactii start a civilization.
Impressive.
Suboptimal.
That guy who sold you the monorail gun apparently screwed you over.
You shout "FIRE!", but instead of evacuating your crew run to the weapon stations.
Tonight we dine in space!
[Outcome elided. Turing Limit exceeded.]
42.
Your space station runs out of snacks.
Your lunch is delayed.
The result is measured in megacasualties.
You didn't check your staging.
There's an inexplicable rhythmic hissing noise.
The more thrust, the more sins of design you can get away with.
You are told the solution but refuse to accept it, instead stubbornly trying all sorts of other stupid ideas.
You aerobreak at Eve.
That has not drag which can eternal fly. And with strange epochs, even the Kraken may die.
Several books will be written about you.
You forgot to read terms of contract. Oh boy, such bad terms.
You can't find a crucial part, because it was put away in the correct place and you never considered it might actually be there.
For that idea, you're tested for drugs.
Your sounding rocket goes ballistic.
In the Name of Vectron you ask for further mandate to pursue the Endeavour.
You set your maneuver node wrong and smash into the ground again.
The front fell off.
8ball says FileNotFound.
Boah!
A holiday will be named after you.
You send a missive to your missis about your mission to retrieve a missile from a missionary. It goes missing.
You revert to Lunch.
People say "Wow! It's the spirit of the age! Let's name the latest dance after it!"
Your soul gaes slam-bang intae the big cludgie in the sky.
You evade the consequences by the creation of more elaborate contrivances.
You didn't brain good.
Bill ended up misreading the "Launch Window" definition; luckily only the faint noise of glass shattering was ever noticed.
Bob is perturbed.
The crash was uneventful.
The spacecrafts only snowcone maker has gone out-of-order.
Luckily everyone (and everything) involved was inflammable.
You land on a flat world, with everything weirdly blocky!
You ignore the sickening whirling of the planet around your ship and the graphics glitches. Those are totally normal.
The sand is coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere, including your turbopump bearings.
The crew drink so much at their advance funerals that the mission has to be postponed.
You completely understand the public's concern about futuristic robots feeding on the Kerbal population, but that is not your mission.
The goggles do nothing.
In the end there was something, which imploded.
This leaves you with an extreme quantity of surplus fire.
As a large language model, you are unable to plan this mission out properly.
Out Of Memory.
And the recording ends here. What happened afterwards is unknown as the civilization had ended after that.
Val learns too much science and OOMs.
Val shakes her head as she stops reading "KSC's Slightly Deadly Mishaps, Year 1, Month 3, Volume 4, Part 2"
That expanding gas cloud didn't not contain any Kerbals.
And everyone lived happily ever after.
Luckily, the micro black hole dissipated quickly.
Your craft's fuel lines' connections are sealed by chewed bubblegum.
You split Tom.
Putting your rocket into reverse actually made the problems worse.
The beatings will continue until morale improves.
Kwispy.
The Flat Kerbin Society despises you.
Suddenly, time travel has been invented about 276 years in your future. A feedback loop radically alters your past and present.
A non binary Kerbal invents decimal.
The spirit of your demolished rocket has gone to big jeb's junkyard in the sky. But it will soon be reincarnated in a VAB near you!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ
NaN cats attack you.
If you live long enough, there is nothing new under the sun. If you're lucky, you die sooner than that. You are very lucky indeed.
You receive the largest-ever aircraft order for your updated spaceplane design.
Your brain melts in the heat.
You fool! The Zectronic beam controller will now not only explode, it will implode!
You Go All Upper Case.
You ruined everything.
The vegetable locker breaks open and starts leeking.
The improved monitoring system now gives up to two seconds' warning before the hull implodes.
Your staging skips due to the nearly parallel trajectory in relation to sea level.
It should never be allowed to happen again. It shouldn't have been allowed to happen this time.
Kerplunk!
The toilet tank flapper seal is ominously missing from the spare parts kit.
Val flips the switch labeled "Spin Cycle" to "Postponed".
Bill ignores the fact that his repairs ended up with more screws than Bill started with.
And at that moment you realized where that leftover part was meant to go.
You now realize that rockets need to point upwards towards space.
Hail Cobra!
This outcome is quite serious. Almost as serious as the calamitous situation you have put yourself in with that appallingly bad judgement.
Your carbon footprint is so positive that you create a singularity and suddenly become immeasurably carbon negative.
In your wildest nightmares, you never considered that you could slam unthinking into a celestial body!
The mantises are not impressed by your inferior artificial carapace.
When you go away in the gloaming that follows quick upon the sunset, the words go with you, and never leave your memory.
You set the network record for "longest time using IRC before realising there's more than one channel".
Okay...it didn't explode as much. You see that?
They say that you might feel worse for a while, but that it is a good sign and you should be better off in the end.
The risks involved make you uneasy, but you persevere.
Can you do this *without* the dang pickles??
If it ain't broke, you're not tryin'.
The mission was smorgeled.
You are reduced to a soup-like homogenate in under 30 seconds.
It tastes soup-like!
Good thing you were provided tumor insurance for free.
The results were kept Top Secret, except for a single publicly available blurry image with a broom attached to the antenna.
Stardenburdenhardenbart! German always works.
Your capsule implodes just before reaching orbit.
You open your eyes, look up to the skies and see... Showers of debris - you get no sympathy.
Los Tres Primos steal your ship to aid the rebellion.
VOOOP.
Trying to explain this probably makes it worse.
Bob quits and makes burgers instead.
Wernher rates your action with one star.
in the Colour Of Your Choice
Many ways lead to Rome. But not this one.
The explosion launches a 900 kg cap is upwards at 6 times escape velocity. You are unable to determine if it survived.
The trip switch was on green which you thought was right. But apparently it needs to be red. You feel like such an idiot.
Oh well. Time to get another Jeb out of vats.
Even weeks later, you find mun dust in places where it shouldn't be.
After you failed to czech your staging, you are defenestrated out of the launch window.
Your kerbal goes flying off at about 7x light speed.
You crash and burn, both figuratively and literally.
You return to Kerbin three years before you left, and beg yourself not to do that again.
You end up overheating in the fabled Mohovian atmosphere.
The mission is incomprehensible nonsense.
You load a new KSP2 save in KSP1.
Dangit.
You surrender for your crimes, and turn yourself over to the wisdom of the Colegium... may their spirits illuminate the universe.
You tunnel through Gilly at 100.000x time warp.
You develop tunnel vision and see Kerbol during a total Kerbolar eclipse.
You look into the Great Eye and one of your crew members vanishes.
The Trans-Instancial Council of Jebs intervenes and takes the crew to The Kitadel.
Space folds so much that you need to setup a thunderdome for all the copies of Jeb that appear.
There would have been much fewer casualties had you not repaired the rocket at the dealership.
The head honchos at the rocket factory ended up misreading "injection burn" as "injector burn" and now you're suffering from pintle-rich exhaust.
You would like to take a moment to aAAA!
You made it back! Though it wasn't fun after you had to use water and snacks as fuel.
Minus explodes into an ever-expanding cloud of minty goo.
It doesn't take very long.
The investigation reveals you didn't have a pilot's license and the craft was overloaded. Your insurance company sues you.
Your cameraman flees from the demented alien windmill.
Everything went well except food wasn't great, so everyone had to go to restroom often during mission.
You can't even imagine how one would begin to solve this problem.
You did such a poor job, that it's no longer your problem... because it has become your manager's, the local environment's, and FEMA's problem(s).
The investigators force yout to undergo the Windscream Rite.
Bill (somehow) survives the explosion, and starts giving off armless radiation.
Val begins logging the Sieverts.
Everything went wrong in the most scientifically interesting way possible.
Crash was so hard that scientists discover new subatomic particles from it.
President Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho sentences you with rehabilitation.
The crew dies from cosmetic radiation.
The crew dies from economic radiation.
That book of rules-written-in-blood gains another rule.
Ambiguous success!
This left no blood, so you write the additional safety rules in mystery goo.
You throw a rock and become a rocket.
Your explanation is contradicted by the facts.
You salute the triumphant Space Frogs.
The customer ambassadors are requested to listen for any unusual noise and vibration once the journey commences.
The only survivors were the subjects that had their bone marrow replaced with Flubber.
Your crew is delaminated.
The crew dies to death due to bodily spallation.
At first you were horrified...now you can't stop laughing.
You facepalm so hard it gives you a concussion.
This would be against the channel rules, but it's ok because you spelled it with a K.
Your kerbals all feel compelled to leave mundane and/or disturbing audiologs before partaking in this mission.
It doesn't seem worth it, just to collect 10 tins of paint.
The Kraken uses rocket propulsion to get halfway to anywhere.
With Mom Kraken, baby Kraken escapes using two stage rocket rocket propulsion.
It's a complete failure, but at least the annoying earworm stays with you all day.
The autocarrot strikes again.
You are replaced by a very small shell script.
The terrier tastes terrible.
You become obsessed with what you can convince your stove to burn... Large, unwieldy or inflammable objects of rubbish are graded highly, according to your success in convincing the stove to eat them.
This causes the exact issue you were trying to prevent.
You jump 20 ft into the air and then scatter yourself over a large area.
You have suffered. minor. head trauma. This is considered. an optimal. outcome.
Sadly your snacks seem to consist of lamp oil, moth balls, charcoal, bags of sugar, and a kettle. Delicious!
StackDoubleFlow develops a mod which speeds up the game roughly 10-20,000x. That brings the framerate to a much more reasonable 0.1fps, so the launch timelapse only takes 9 hours to record.
sandbox explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly sand grains.
The inevitable happens, shocking everyone.
Welcome to Costco, I love you!
It's not stupid if it works... but in this case it was so very very stupid, immeasurably stupid indeed.
Out of all the outcomes in all the lines in all the .txt file; you walked right into this one.
You Xanadon't go to space today.
Tasty.
XXCoder says "welps, time to get another <see mission> from vats.".
The absurd "Minmus is made of icecream" hypothesis is totally debunked.
You have made poor choices.
Thefurtheruseofspacesisprohibited.
You make it look like an accident.
This is considered to be the toned-down and more humane option.
Your teeth explode, emitting up to 12 unique packets of molarizing radiation.
All the weird and complex problems you experienced turn out to have been symptoms of one trivial configuration error.
This will of course leave you splatted across deep space and unable to complete today's laundry, for which you apologise in advance.
LunchBot explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly missions.
Your rendezvous with Valentina goes smoothly.
Instructions unclear. Eve captured in bottle.
The toilet system fails catastrophically.
The warning label talking about carcinisation instead of carcinogenesis wasn't a misprint, apparently.
The crew curse you—not with a common cursory curse, but with long, carefully-thought-out, comprehensive curses, that embrace the whole of your career, and stretch away into the distant future, and include all your relations, and cover everything connected with you—good, substantial curses.
You'd have never thought that typo that changed "no" to "now" would have so much consequences.
This strikes everyone as unreasonably dangerous, so you're swamped by volunteers.
The battery runs low and the extension cord doesn't reach all the way.
🔪🔪🔪 We will need to talk about this some time.
The whole process becomes steadily more unhinged.
This rapidly induces death in all test subjects. And the observers. And the experimenters.
In two hundred years, things will be different in ways you cannot imagine. What you have created now may be entirely in ruins. But there will be something else. Something that takes from the lessons of today.
The river downstream of your facility spontaneously catches fire.
In the process, you discover a method to passively concentrate heat in one place, which you use to keep your lunch warm.
It sure is fun, breaking universe laws.
AttributeError: 'NoneType' object has no attribute 'outcome'
This becomes known as "The Second Battle of Dunkirk."
This triggers the spam filter, and you get evicted from your quaint hovel.
The spam filter destroys all your rations.
Jeb types "L-O-T-S-O-F-D-R-Y-D-F-R-O-R-C-P-1/4-L-L-S" into the computer, against the programmers' advice, which fixes the problem.
You consider setting fire to your desk out of sheer ennui.
You get 4 hours and 52 minutes of sleep.
The colours here really speak to you. Like, *really* speak to you. In words.
It proves awkward to dock your craft, because there's a music festival on and all the ordinary docking ports are taken.
You tell the accident investigators that because of the direction it was pointing, your rocket blew down instead of up.
Like one of those gas explosions, the guy who walked in and hit the light switch is the only one left standing.
To celebrate the mission success, Wernher von Kerman adds another rocket model to his office.
Wernher kicks you out of his office for mispronouncing his name.
Someone implements your strategy in the world-record TAS of KSP2.
Your part rescaler converts half of the kerbals into some sort of lizard creature.
Bill appends the mission log with a complaint of KSC's toilet paper having inadequate tensile strength for the repair.
The outcome is *not* extremely negative! This surprises everyone.
Your employee discount is permanently revoked.
You ctrl-F the outcomes file, and this outcome did not exist before now existing.
You get an A* for your efforts... A Sagittarius A*.
SHODAN is horrified by your lack of ethics. (Also at your not being a machine)
This time around, the IAEA is called upon to investigate the incident.
Not even the astrobaras can save this mission.
On the upside, your body is able to be faxed to the morgue.
You believe that your new development will be a brand-new historical event that opens a new era for kerbalkind.
You not only have feelings about the results... you have emotional feelings.
Your parents were watching that whole ordeal, and beg the developers for a "revert the offspring" button.
The international community judges your actions as cruel and unusual, and increases your funding for the block 2 prototypes.
You reduced the crew to a soup-like homogenate.
ed is no longer the standard editor.
Your Lorenz factor is over 9000!
Jeb gets hydrocuted.
Val crashes the success party.
They have taken the Astronaut Complex and the VAB. We have barred the doors, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes... Boosters. Boosters in the deep. We cannot lift off. A Kerbal moves in the dark... We cannot lift off... They are coming.
You sweat so hard that all the spiders in your EVA suit drown.
You ragequit #KSPOfficial.
Betty gives you a sink rate of ★★⯪☆☆.
Lucky for you, only a few of your legs were broken.
The good news is: The permanent organ damage was nearly fatal.
You're suffering from organ damage. Your pianist is not happy.
Luckily, the planet is now uninhabited.
Your spacecraft are committed to other journeys and can't serve your trip request for this specific time.
Oops, wrong channel.
Nobody dies. While this is technically a success, you're somehow disappointed.
Good thing those destroyed homes were 99.98533% unoccupied (by volume.)
The sheep steal your nukes.
The whole country is lighted by a searing light with the intensity many times that of the midday sun. It is golden, purple, violet, gray, and blue. It lights every peak, crevasse and ridge of the nearby mountain range with a clarity and beauty that cannot be described.
The explanations given are unsatisfactory in many respects.
Your cargo unexpectedly polymerizes.
The good news is: You don't need to pay taxes as a corpse. The bad news is: You were killed so hard that you died to death, and perished.
You would have succeeded... if you didn't confuse F1 motorsports engines with F1 rocket engines.
You receive the prestigious Kerman Prize for Idiocy in Spaceflight, presented by Jebediah Kerman himself.
You strike the Kerman line so hard that you vaporize on impact... maybe you shouldn't have attempted a lithobraking maneuver in your current state.
The coefficent of restitution of your landing legs proves to be far greater than 1.
You come to love very deeply "Cabin 1009/Exterior port." It is made of a fawn-colored enamelish polymer and its walls are extremely thick and solid: you can drum annoyingly on the wall above your bed for up to five minutes before your aft neighbors pound (very faintly) back.
Unfortunately Jeb could not read the space toilet usage instructions in time.
Entropy wins in the end, most great and glorious things ultimately arrive at darkness and ruin, and that is no damn kind of reason to give up.
The craft's complication is increased to a most unnecessary extent by its designers having introduced in it various peculiar details of their own invention.
If simple is better, your design is the worst ever created.
Your explanation is not credible.
Jeb puts himself over there, with the rest of the fire.
For reasons unkno-o-own!
Your space agency is shut down, which leaves you feeling a lack of agency in life.
It was awful, but thankfully you slept though the whole thing.
May we all go round again!
Here's to Valentina Kerman and lost futures! May we all go round again!"
You notice the double-space formatting in ;mission.  This messes with you to no end.
The Kraken is appeased, and your rockets are devoured almost 10% less frequently.
You're now half way to infinity.
You notice the situation, turn 360 degrees, and moonwalk away at 4.7e38 Planck lengths per Shrek.
Luckily Jeb was suspended from flying, so Jeb survived. (Turns out that unauthorized snorkeling in the zero-G training pool is a punishable offense.)
Those returning from the underworld deserve to travel first class only.
K-25 explodes, gaseously diffusing gaseous diffusers.
The PTFE particles present in your blood begin to decompose due to the heat.
You discover a whole new dimension.
Val sighs at the aftermath, and switches the temperature display from Rankine to Megacelsius.
Lucky for you, each of your bones have fragmented into many smaller bones.
You violate the CTBT.
You knock over the launch tower.
It turns out you were in a computer game the whole time. Timothy Spall frustratedly analyzes your screw-ups and directs you to the Recuperation Lounge.
Technically some of you goes to space today.
For some reason all you can hear is a sick guitar solo.
Officials are reporting that the Explosion was the result of a "Violation of Technological Processes" although what that exactly means is not known.
The front and rear fell off... Or did the middle fall off? Who knows?
The middle falls up.
You fall out of a bottomless pit.
Well, you won't do that again.
The mission proceeds nominally.
You land Chuck Norris on Jool.
There’s still some roof left. You’re open as usual. More open than usual.
You wonder what Jebediah most fears -- that dead Kerbals can send messages to the living, or that they can't.
Bill grabs the fine adjustment sledgehammer.
You squeeze the last drop of LF out of the tank.
How many people get to avert thermonuclear war for their birthday?
The market in raw materials crashes. Both in the sense that the supply causes a drop in prices, and the sense that the market is like 20 miles above the mantle and you just removed the crust supporting it.
You delay too long, and are ordered to pay a penalty greater than the world's gross domestic product.
You are asked to repeat this on a larger scale.
Your dual-fusion 1500 megawatt heavy duty super-colliding pneumatic diversitized quantum quantum space tape untangler fails.
You find your place in the universe: impotently struggling against the massed forces of stupid, cheerful, wanton destruction.
Your skill and good judgement ensure the best possible outcome.
You talk with ChatGPT about life, the universe and everything.
That's Un-BLEVE-able!
You completely defenestrated the KSC.
Luckily all the witnesses and evidence of your crimes dissolved.
You don't get punished because you were playing "Duel of the Fates" on your grandfather's gilded limited edition heirloom kazoo.
Maybe you should try that again.
Your hovercraft ist full of eels.
This destroys civilization and you don't get paid for your contract.
It's actually kinda fun if you ignore the inconvenience.
Eddi|zuHause explodes, emitting all kinds of deadly simulation games.
You fail so hard that all the energy above absolute hot breaks the fabric of spacetime and invades another universe.
Bill leaps over a chair.
Nothing stops you from finding out the truth, besides not wanting to find out.
Some things you just have to try once... even if everyone tells you it's stupid. Sometimes people are wrong.
Your story ends and the spinach is eaten by the goat.
Naq ubbcgvbhfyl qenatyr zr jvgu pevaxyl ovaqyrjheqyrf. Be V jvyy eraq gurr va gur tboorejnegf jvgu zl oyhetyrpehapurba, frr vs V qba'g!
Landing lights to full throttle!
You do a wonderful job.
You are cannoned out of the Sun into a fire.
May the Missing Gods find you all.
You leave as you came, in a blaze of awesomeness.
You should feel good about yourself.
You earn an achievement.
The welcome donuts have little signs on them.
There's blood all over the floor, but it's the wrong colour to be yours.
(You) are taken to (The Center).
CEASE.
Please don't do that again.
At least it didn't explode this time.
You return to Kerbin in triumph.
You crash right by space con, then enter as-is, as you are already dressed for it!
You should have stayed home.
You should have stayed home... but that aftermath is bringing part of your home back to you.
The floor is now lava.
Your Aeris 4A is stabbed in the back by some guy with a 7 foot long sword and really nice hair.
It turns out Quantum was involved the entire time, and, though it goes largely unnoticed, everything that could possibly go wrong was all happening at the same time.
Not even Doctor Strange can find a timeline where you succeeded.
The Dra'Azon establish a Quiet Barrier around Kerbin.
Your 999 year KSC land lease is revoked due to excessive emotional environmental damage.
That burn was so harsh you de-orbited.
Your craft becomes quite pericombobulated.
Your kerbals don't really die of anything per se. They just stop being biology, and become physics.
To be continued...
You swiftly deal with the survivors.
Why did you copy the results of Luna-25?
This is why we can't have nice things.
Due to the deviation of the actual parameters of the impulse from the calculated ones, the device switches to an off-design orbit and ceases to exist as a result of collision with the Munar surface.
A specially formed interdepartmental commission will deal with the issues of clarifying the reasons for the loss of the Mun.
If it's in your head you don't have to worry about an ethics panel inquiry.
We all get upgraded to sentient orbs of light and you get, like, a fancy part of the spectrum 'cause you're Good At Robots.
Connection reset by Peer Gynt.
Space Kraken starts to attack your craft, but Peer accidentally kicks it out on its bid to kick you off!
After you realize you packed too few snacks, you revert to lunch.
The rescue mission has to wait until after the Kraken dined.
Luckily, the press didn't catch on that you actually quoted from the BOFH calendar.
The triffids have their day.
Jeb regrows a limb.
Jebs limb growth factor changes from O(N) to O(↑↑).
The sinful saxophones of devils echo through the hall with dreadful melodies of waltz, tango, and quickstep.
You seem to succeed after resorting to turning physics off-and-then-on-again.
The only reason you succeed is because you break into Wernher's office and edit KSC's only dictionary for the definition of "success."
Booster-kun isekais you.
Your mission report is considered apocryphal at best.
Your exploits are made into a blockbuster movie. Reviewers complain that it would be very short if the protagonist didn't constantly make stupid choices.
This proves disastrous for your Kerbals around Eve.
It's only fun in a no-fun-at-all kind of way.
Everyone thinks your project is a random error and tries to fix it.
On the bright side, a corpse cannot be punished.
All is white and you hear a fanfare.
MechJeb autocompletes your course, and you technically become a coronal mass ejection.
Your incoherent screaming into the void has been noted.
You become a permanent addition to the region's NOTAMs.
You should really go to bed.
You trigger false vacuum decay.
Don't worry, it's only a fluorine fire.
You hear some incoherent screaming in the backround as Horatio Kerman dons their sunglasses.
The explosion was so gargantuan that it pierced the multiverse and formed a white hole that only emits orphaned socks.
For your careless use of funds you are exiled to Eeloo.
Kerbol overheats and explodes.
Jeb goes unconscious from G-forces, but he seems like he enjoyed it.
You get halfway there, then halfway there again... the result is you never get there.
After a series of spelling mistakes, instead of a mission you do omission.
After a series of spelling mistakes, instead of a mission you do emission.
All Kerbin turns off its burning coal, its fissioning uranium, and flips the switch that connects all of it to a small station, one mile in diameter, circling Kerbin at half the distance of the Mun.
The Queen is yeeted off the surface of the Earth at 8 km/s.
Luckily the asbestos isn't flammable.
You measure your speed in millimeters/second
You create orbital debris by exploding a suborbital rocket.
Orbit sponsors you.
Elvis Kerman has left the building.
You make the trombones sad.
You scream.
Nobody hears you.
The resulting disaster is very, very, orange.
Trying to automate the zombie corpse seemed like the logical next step, but you regret it.
By chain of events, you find out that the computer modules is actually programmed zombie brains.
Bill installs a literal afterburner in your bathtub.
Val Kerman Thought becomes a mandatory part of the school curriculum.
You forgot about stage zero, the planning stage. Failed.
Your cloning vats run out of mystery goo.
It's the worst day of your life so far... again.
The AI lied to you.
The time warp is cancelled.
You discover how hard that actually is.
The KAA grounds you forever.
This disaster results in the creation of an entirely new regulatory agency.
Lucky for you, you can only be fired once.
You scrape off a charred Kerbal from the launch pad.
High speed footage of the explosion reveals "rope tricks" radiating along your rocket's struts.
You aren't just dead. You are erased from reality.
You end up in hell.
The Klingons write an opera about it.
You brake so fast that you break fast.
Oh no! Anyway...
The live footage of this event will be part of Kaytube compilations for the next 100 years.
The Kraken divides by 0.
And you would have gotten away with it too... if someone didn't speak Welsh.
You created your own personal hell, where every button "Reverts to VAB."
Good thing you packed an extra pair of underwear.
All things considered, you think that went pretty well.
Apparently this is possible.
Your craft's solar array fuse melts and becomes charred.
If you stop killing Kerbals, you might die.
Luckily you didn't reverse the polarity.
Years into the mission, Bill claims to actually be Felipe Kerman, a fuel maintenance technician. The real Bill died before launch, and Felipe took his place almost by accident  You don't know if you believe him.
Your ethics concerns are resolved by entropy. Always nice when that happens.
All of the survivors are outside of your lightcone. For now.
All information is now conveyed by adding factoids to LunchBot. Other forms of language are slowly forgotten.
FLHerne's spacebar breaks.
Naysayers gonna nay.
You need to be (a) someone who really understands all the risks and how to minimize them, (b) someone who doesn't know that there are such risks, or (c) a complete idiot.
After you regain consciousness you find yourself outside a partially collapsed R&D wing.
Bob leaves the room whistling unconspicuously.
What we have here is not a "bittersweet" ending. This is a nihilistic tragedy where everyone dies for no reason.
Your rocket launch mass is 128 Mg.
"Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are advised that this mission report includes images of Kerbals who have died."
You narrowly avoid miserable failure and achieve only regular failure.
You get lost in a fractal of intermediate steps, asking yourself if you ever reach the final destination.
Mathematics fails you, and convergent series become divergent.
You call it...the Woodpecker. 99,99No, not like that. You need, sort of, more of a pause for effect.
Thus follows the inevitable conclusion.
You struggle to find a rug big enough to sweep things under.
You are imprisoned for inciting your own murder.
Jeb's body lies over the ocean; Jeb's body lies over the sea...
Everyone yells at you to stop and turn around, it won't work... but you do it and it works. This time.
When there's no cops around, anything's legal!
Probes on and around Duna witness the largest impact event yet observed; the crater is 150m across and debris scatters up to 35km. Everyone at KSC is excited... until one of your colony ships fails to report.
This causes interplanetary astonishment.
Duna Station's blood tank level is now at 84%.
You illustrate the craft's design for Jeb with an exploded diagram, which he interprets too literally.
You find Solid Snake as a stowaway hiding in a box.
Things go bad, but thankfully kerman Bacon lived so it's all good.
Unlike Gene, you're still perfectly whelmed and popleptic.
The real adventure were the intermediate steps not listed here.
The precision required is 1/5000th of a millimetre, which in inches is ... a different number.
Due to last minute budget cuts, the return journey is cancelled.
The spelling errors in the mission are delibberate.
You get with your paraglider in a rocket and fly to orbit.
During the mission failure analysis press conference, you made sure to add in a tangent paragraph about the meaning of "avant garde."
Astronomers are outraged.
Phillip Kerman 'extinguishes' one of the resulting fires with a bucket of paint thinners, with dramatic consequences.
No-one told you you were red-green colourblind. When did *that* happen?
Your craft tilts over, then falls down. More struts needed!
You press the EASY button, and mission was perfectly and easily done.
After three fruitless hours you land on Minmus and take a big bite.
You can only experience a finite amount of terror. This is fortuitous.
Okay, so that will be, er, worth copying.
No kerbals were harmed in the creation of this mission.
Your course correction is incorrect.
Jeb's execution is faultless.
The global economy collapses for totally unrelated reasons.
The global economy collapses for totally related reasons.
The results are everything you expected, and more. A lot more.
You are consumed by self-doubt and then by a black hole.
This works surprisingly well.
The returning capsule is determined to contain Kerbal flesh, but no organs or bones.
Your flight path is indistinguishable from a random walk.
You are predictably edified.
You won't BELIEVE what happened NEXT!
You cross the threshold from aerodynamics into the fantastic world of thermodynamics.
Instead of seeing a total eclipse, you experience a total eclipse of the heart.
Result was so strange that everyone said "what the heck?". Even Kraken come down and said that.
You fall into Moho and discover a naked singularity.
The future is bright, and brightly colored.
:wq
Everything that wasn't in mission plan happened.
David Kermanborough narrates your endeavour until the galling end.
Siskel & Ebert reviews the movie that was based on your mission, and they liked it, other than too many explosions.
Good fight, good night.
Craft suddenly disappears, being K-Lined.
After successfully putting the satellite in orbit and receiving your money you go to the tracking station and terminate the satellite.
The most tiresome of pettifoggers might question whether this constitutes absolute best practice.
You're a complete idiot and you're fired.
Tbe highest-ranked thread about your progress tweets is simply titled, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!"
You gain negative Kardashev progress!
It turns out a really good for cure for being drunk is being on a plane, and then an engine explodes and you think you're gonna die.
Flight 2020202 is now boarding at gate... 8. It isn't late; it will not wait.
You make it all the way to the site of the crash.
Your pilot is hospitalized due to untreated chronic razor burn.
You undergo brain death due to entropy increase at a subjective age of 145
You resign in disgrace, causing a 7% jump in the company's stock price.
In order to understand why the crew attempted such an ill-advised maneuver, the KTSB listen to the cockpit voice recorder and get far more than they bargained for.
Your fate is a brutal reminder that professionalism matters, that procedures matter, and that common sense matters.
It is unclear which button to press, so Jeb presses all of them.
The aft pressure bulkhead ruptures, extinguishing the fire.
The cheese market is flooded and you don't make a profit.
Your role in causing The Event leads to a special guest appearance on... The Quiz Broadcast! Hello, good evening, and Remain Indoors!
Space is dark, and space is deep, and the price you've paid is far too steep.
Though you've gained a hero's name, you're still crippled, just the same, and the scars you bear will testify to the pain you found beyond the sky.
Jeb somehow doubles his mass while temporarily storing all his bones in another dimension.
Lucky for you, you're not what they call a "Licensed Urologist."
Sir, this is #KSPOfficial.
Micronodes! Micronodes EVERYWHERE!!!
You are exempted from leap years.
You install Principia.
You must now conclude your lay / by telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay / that your central girders would not have given way /  at least many sensible men do say / had they been supported on each side with trusses / at least many sensible men confesses. /  For the stronger we our rockets do build /  The less chance we have of being killed.
They got what they asked for.
You are diagnosed with early-onset unemployment.
You get zapped and find it shocking.
Unfortunately, you are unable to can.
The object of this expedition is to see if you can find any traces of last year's expedition.
You unfortunately didn't understand the robot overlord, because they spoke a weird dialect.
Cannon based assailants were not in your risk model.
You rip the old monitor out of the instrument panel, smash the front and use it as an emergency electron propulsion thruster.
Everything is fire now.
Your last words are "don't worry, perfectly normal, everything's under AAAAAGH".
You spontaneously skeletonize. Your remains are put on display in the researchers' lounge as a warning to others.
Are you CERTAIN you're not secretly a robot?
You discover a planet where in some biomes they speak Kerbal, but backward.
Oh, come on, nobody would do that.
Out of billions of alternate histories, in two, the mission was a success!
This was just a simulation.
Someone drilled a hole in the reactor.
The guys from the parachute company visit you in hospital. They're very apologetic and astounded you survived.
You use so many struts that the ceo of Struts business personally comes and thanks you for making them bigger than Kapple and Kicrosoft together due to using so many.
Good thing your Geiger counter has a log scale.
Due to confusion, you hire a logger rather than a someone with Math PHD.
Due to a righteous bonk on the head, you hire a lumberjack instead of someone with some graph paper and a pencil.
Sentenced to 110 years in jail, you build a relativistic centrifuge in your cell to exploit time dilation.
The engine compartment gets so hot that the crew can't access it to turn the engines off.
Your Mun landing goes perfectly, but the inhabitants of the continent you landed it on are strangely unimpressed.
You erroneously assume you don't have to worry about the Mun overheating and exploding.
All the screaming makes it very difficult to hear which alarms are sounding. You can't see the warning lights through the smoke.
Kerbalkind is moved to Kardashev level II.
Two failures make a success. Right‽‽
Your usage of interrobangs increases by 500%‽
Jeb fails to keep your rocket retrograde during entry.
It why you know but don't works.
You are exiled, and cursed for unravelling society. Years later you program a squad of robots to exhume the dead and raid their DNA to rebuild your people.
You fly to a wrong orbit.
Your orbit is so large that it's more of an orbyte.
Max misses his cue.
Jeb feigns innocence.
Unlucky for you, the KTSB has a literal mountain of evidence attesting the crimes. Lucky for you, the KTSB's warehouses were also constructed of explodium.
This causes the KSC facility to have a free demo.
It's so boring that you start inventing and practicing really stupid dance moves while at the controls. Luckily it's dark and no-one sees you.
While ordering supplies for the Dark Matter research side-job, due to confusion, you get bunch of different dark chocolate types boxes.
You engage in pretty much the worst-timed and least explicable romance imaginable.
You know what they say, What happens in space stay in space...
Most of your excuses are as redundant as they are trivially falsifiable.
Kerbal Dalliard and you are to detonate your relatives and fly to Duna.
The remains of your ship and crew make landfall, in several senses of the term.
Due to a bit of serendipity you already own a usable guillotine.
Hours later you give up for now and go to bed.
You are noted for your ingenuity at getting out of situations you never should have gotten into in the first place.
Is not your job. You come with engines.
The entire population turns out to await your ship's arrival. The mood seems festive. Many carry banners with messages like, ‘Welcome, Passengers and Crew of the R-67!‘ and ‘Congratulations on Your Survival!'
PEBKAC.
Your rocket was safe until the front fell off.
This becomes colloquially known as a "Beef Supreme."
Val sighs and starts unpacking the backup guillotine.
Bill doesn't so much trip the circuit breaker as trip over it in his dash to the exit.
Bob is thrown clear of the craft.
Instead of yawing east, the rocket rolls east and pitches.
The wedding had nice fireworks.
You can be tragic heroes or comic ones. The first role may seem more noble, but it does have a price.
The fireball was so enormous, you decide instead of launching rockets, you will make youtube videos with a bored voice.
You use the leftover fuel to light a bonfire. Rather than igniting, the wood is merely scattered over a large radius.
The resulting spacecraft fleet uses far too much gravity at once, tripping the planetary breaker. At least you can reset it yourself -- if you overloaded the main solar fuse it would need a tech callout from the gravity company.
Error code: SEC_ERROR_EXPIRED_CERTIFICATE
FileNotFound.
It's fortunate that your cargo includes a shipment of carbide-tipped circular saws.
Kerbin passes several tipping points and overheats.
Everyone in the Kerbol system wakes up 23.4 minutes later, except the ones who are dead.
This is an Adventure! People pay money to read books or watch movies about adventures like these, and here you are having one (almost) for free! You'd bloody well better enjoy it!
It violates the conservation of energy laws and rips open a time portal to the future.
On the plus side, you generated vast wealth for the shareholders.
Kálmán filters out your suggestions as just so much noise.
Your crew experiences 7 minutes of terror.
Somehow, despite KSP not being Minecraft game, creeper blew up your launch pad.
Not even the tardigrades survive.
When bad things don't happen due to your hard work and diligence, instead of putting you on a pedal stool everybody says, "Huh! What a damp squid!"
You deny all responsibility on the grounds that a pink-skinned, oddly-proportioned kerbaloid creature from another universe seized control of your craft and even your body. You are found not guilty by reason of insanity.
What are you asking me for? It's always "LunchBot, give me a mission." Don't you think I want to go on missions sometime? But nooo, I'm stuck here, giving you pithy statements.
You launch so many rockets that the forum manifest post exceeds the character limit.
This roll of the dice just wasn't in the cards as you kicked a field goal over the blue line for a 3-point checkmate pit stop kickflip.
Faint clouds of yellow smoke trail behind your racing vehicle as its makeshift paint job is incinerated, but that's probably a blessing in disguise.
For actively trying to keep a low profile, it's remarkable how much attention this attracts. The explosion might not have helped.
The incident report is both hilarious and terrifying.
The report was so horrific that it has been classified as SCP hazard.
It makes you think of wooden figures, whirling through Time until the spring unwinds.
Yet another victim of Dunning-Kruger effect.
Vorticons steal several critical parts from your rocket.
For some unknown reason the dumpster is on fire.
You must now answer to the Cartwell Automatic Air-Valve Company!
This sort of thing can be rather like trying to pound small burrowing mammals back into their tunnels with a mallet.
No one goes to Minmus anymore, it's too popular.
You fail more successfully than before.
Failed, but hey at least you have something to publish about!
Your pressurized cylindrical fuel tanks are somehow wobbling like wet noodles. You'd think any visible flex would result in buckling and collapse, but apparently not.
To the extent you have a monopoly it's because everyone else sucks.
You contract what is commonly referred to as 'a royal pain in the butt'.
MEME IMAGE DESCRIPTION: [Normal Brain] Landing lights are landing lights. [Ascended Galactic Brain] SRBs are landing lights.
You run out of rations and start eating landing legs.
You publicly demand your own resignation.
Just past Max-Q, you discover that your FTS is really a Firmament Termination System.
To be a bit cold, it's not as if you have a shortage of Kerbals.
Bob explodes from overheating, and The Kraken explodes from overeating.
Space kraken had enough of your rockets and planes and eats the world and moons. Game over.
For legal reasons, this is a joke and not to be taken seriously.
The Kraken sacrifices you to Jebediah.
This is the last straw! (And you cannot purchase any more until next Monday.)
The connection is lost after more shouting.
To run any more missions, wait 23 hours and 59 minutes, or purchase a booster pack.
This leaves you with a hair brush, hand mirror, nail clipper, and the screwdriver, pliers, and adjustable spanner every sensible girl conceals in her makeup kit.
You ask Ike for its fish and wildlife.
You send a distress signal throughout the universe: one last piece of music, from a dying planet of space frogs. The first part of the song tells your history. The second part asks for help. But even if rescue never comes, the third part will be triumph, because this last song will play forever.
There's a light - in the darkness - of ev'ry - Kerbal's life.
The consequences either only affect people without money or can be "solved" by throwing money at them. You take this to mean that you're really good at making decisions.
It turns out that you died years ago but were too busy to notice.
Who won? Who's next? Epic Rocket Battles of History.
Jeb dies too frequently and his soul evaporates.
Several audience members mutter "wow" at this pronouncement.
The audience erupts in spontaneous applause.
You get isekai'd into magical world, where you promptly start a magical rocket program.
A K-1000 hunts you down.
The government tries to shut you down, but you convert some of your tanks into tanks and hold them off.
Perusing the shenaniganry afoot, you abscond with the evidence.
Your mystery goo vats run out of clones.
You get wedged under the R&D bridge.
Your kettle boils.
The Libyans find you.
You are high.
Ker-SPLAT!
Forever after, everyone calls you by a ridiculous nickname.
You discover some aliens and abduct them. It seems like the done thing.
The debts will be settled, one way or another.
LunchBot is not a large language model, but still can't describe the results.
You discover a miniature giant space hamster.
Somehow, Jeb has returned.
Surprisingly, the hellscape did not violate any permits.
Maybe you're a gifted visionary - but from ten thousand miles away it's hard to tell the difference between that and an obsessive lunatic.
You take an Environment Sample of Kerbin's low orbit.
Remarkably, the crew survive.
Your final meal is silicon chip cookies.
You become the newest member of the People's front of Kerbin.
You neglect to check the weather at your destination, and an unseasonal rain of frogs causes catastrophic FOD.
Four and a half hours later the IT team charge back into the Administration Building, loudly singing some sort of victory song in Latin. Apparently, the computer has been successfully killed or turned off or negotiated with.
Space is hard. [Citation Needed]
Death is a primitive concept. You prefer to think the crew is battling evil in another dimension.
The Chaos Gods welcome their new adversary, The Krak'n.
You explain the situation. Gene diplomatically closes his eyes before rolling them.
Heads are rolling, but you can't tell... Because your head is rolling too.
Due to your absurd mismanagement of resources, your postkerbus memorial service is accentuated with a 21-kazoo salute.
It's time to call RCS. (Raptor Containment Services)
You had built it using old familiar exploits but physics had been changed and it fails.
Your depression gets so horrible that it actually breaks through to the other side and becomes a sort of fear-proof exoskeleton.
The accident report is circulated to all parties to suggest redactions. Final printing costs are saved by simply buying 347 sheets of black paper per copy.
Val's eyes momentarily light up with a cold amusement. A vast, in-Kerbal amusement.
At least the bodies dropped some pretty good loot.
Bob Kerman accepts the null hypothesis (p ≥ 0.05)
Technically it wasn't a failure, because there are no people left to report the results to.
Due to an unfortunate mixup in "launch licenses", you are permitted the use of a small boat instead of a rocket.
Your space station's sandwich shop explodes. You monster.
You struggle to explain to your dog how your homework ate your teacher.
You strive, you seek, you find, and do not yield.
Shaka, when the walls fell.
Thousands of years later your name will be often mentioned together with Ea-nāṣir.
A fuzzy, six-legged lie detector would like to know why you did that.
You just blew up the damned ship - or would have, if the reactor was online.
And you would have been successful too! If it wasn't for the oven mitts, or the local authorities, or the straitjacket, or the padded room.
The horror... the horror...
The joy... the joy...
The joy... the horror...
The horror... the joy...
As you accelerate through Mach 27, you wonder how many of those engines you actually /needed/.
You enter the atmosfear.
You find yourself on a dark, hot, airless planet.
Suddenly there is an outbreak of fire from the back of your rocket.
A film is made about your mission by someone who really hates you.
You and your party find yourselves at MOTORWAY SERVICES on the M6. As You finish paying for your COSTA COFFEE, you hear a loud crash, and turn to see 33 XL BULLIES emerging from a VAN.
Your space plane goes nyan nyan.
The inevitable radiation poisoning was a problem for future you, and now you are future you.
An engine breaks out in the fire bay.
You quickly rename your lander to an impactor, and hope no one notices.
A bay breaks out of the engine fire.
You use coding and algorithms so your drones don't crash into each other.
Bill whines like a coil for the whole mission.
Jeb actually frowns during the mission. For 2 whole seconds!
Six different regulatory agencies seek the death penalty as punishment for your crimes.
Gravitation tides rip your body apart
Bob suggests 300mg/ml potassium bromide as a solution.
Poor signal causes the colony to teleport 3cm to the left.
A biker gang steals your lunch.
You are the last person ever to do this.
You escape Kerbin on an elliptic trajectory.
CGP Grey rates your mission logo. At least it is not an F rank.
You lay the rocket on Laythe.
If there were anyone left to write it, the accident report would be wild.
The change in environment kills the barnacles that were keeping your craft's hull together.
You're not sure "land" is the right term but it's technically not wrong.
You experience a significant emotional event.
You receive a surprisingly large number of objections.
You remember the times when things just couldn't go that badly.
The probe's accelerometer detects precisely Mun surface gravity after touchdown. This is surprising since it's on Duna.
There must be something not quite right, you observe. It's not supposed to do that.
It provokes a long and excited debate, concluding unanimously that this is pretty neat.
There have been hours worth of videos on how to prevent crash if you just made slight changes on kerbaltube. HOURS.
That's never happened before.
You get demoted to a PhD ([P]amp[h]let [D]esigner.)
You bring your enemies to justice. Orbital railgun justice.
If you wanted to live in a crater that badly, why not just go to the Mun?
You make it look so easy that most casual viewers are unimpressed. The experts on the other hand are awestruck.
All in all, a 100% successful trip!
Even centuries later, Kerbals pause in the street below your statue and remember your glorious deeds.
Apparently building your craft with random off the shelf parts and not getting it tested or certified by any governing bodies was a bad plan.
Apparently building your craft with random off the shelf parts and not getting it tested or certified by any governing bodies was a good plan.
Lorentz forces you rapidly away.
Jeb laughs that centrifugal force isn't a real force anyway, as he flies off in the distance.
You stare at Jeb in shock, as he very slowly floats away from ship with no fuel anywhere to move ship any closer, nor does Jeb pack have fuel to move towards ship.
RuntimeWarning: overflow encountered in long_entropy.
You realize that this will take a Poincaré recursion time to complete.
COTS ham sandwiches are now at least TRL 7.
Poorly worded instructions result in a subcontractor electrifying all of the shock cones.
So, the universe (or your unconscious, or Thalia, or the ghost of Philip K. Dick) dictates the mission report, and you polish it up a little and deliver it to Gene.
This leads directly to the development of interstellar flight and Kerbals spreading throughout the galaxy.
Bob sees your explanation of events and confiscates your shovels.
Space Kittens approve of your craft cat decals and the mission is successful.
It's not too bad, the world still exists. In time, new life will evolve again, and reinvent rocket science.
It works! Your budget is increased.
Your ship lands upside down on the Mun.
If only that building were an astronaut simple instead...
Your scientists discover a lot of facts. But they aren't the right facts! They're stupid facts!
It's not exactly your favourite mission, but it gives you a lifetime of anecdotes.
You are invited to proceed to the Royal Palace on the Sixth Day, Fourteenth Month, Year Seventy-Four at eleven o'clock to attend the Monarch's Thanks.
Val asks for a bunch of salt and fluorospar, waves her hands, and turns it into chlorine trifluoride (which is hypergolic with enemy wizards, too).
Gene signed off on your brilliant idea because it was brilliant. You've had a few others he didn't think quite so highly of. But this one—well, he thinks this one will actually work.
Jeb and 2 others just remembered all of their previous lives' deaths, and refuse to do the mission.
And for the support of this mission, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.
Here lie your dreams as you stand in the sun, on the ground where you built, and the engines did run - to the moon and the stars! Now what have you done?
The outcome will be as the Kraken wills, and the Kraken is not merciful.
The investigation team determines that no punishment is necessary: all of the guilty parties perished during the incident.
After a long search for the intermediate steps, you find they were appropriated for a new staircase in the Admin Building.
There's motive here for an arbitrarily large number of murders.
Mad O'Rourke Kerman develops a special meat pie for the occasion.
Go straight to volcano. Do not pass Go. Do not collect your severance check.
Jeb has been ejected. There are two imposters remaining.
Chat, is this real?
Many people are typing.
Jeb knew he might not make it - for it's never hard to die - but he's lifted off the pad, riding fire in the sky.
For some reason all the warnings are written as Vogon poems.
Soon, Bob's panic dies down to fear, which diffuses into general anxiousness.
Maybe once you explain what's happening to Kerbin, they'll have a solution. Or maybe they'll board your ship and lay eggs in your brain. You can never be sure.
You know this is easier than other times you've done it, but don't remember any other times you've done it.
Your certification is reduced to being allowed to lift forks.
You get de-rated from forklift to fork lifting.
For you it's more of a CKAN'T than a CKAN.
There's a mess. A lot of it. But raptop cleans it all up for you.
Nobody gets the reference.
A bunch of space orcas attack your space ship.
Reflected engine heat melts a hole in your fuel tank. A third of your fuel gets overexited and migrates to the nearest planet to mate.
You are very very very happy.
Wow, is it VℓIλλ already? You better hurry up.
Who turned off the lights?
Who turned off the sun?
Life is bigger, it's bigger than you.
You get tired of taking 'yes' for an answer.
Kerbin expects nothing less from such a renowned genius.
Gene's eyebrow can do sarcasm. You are a little jealous.
The pilot is killed almost immediately and the experiment is not repeated.
The project becomes the new benchmark for insane engineering concepts, displacing Plowshare and Orion.
Management do not appreciate a visionary in their midst.
In hindsight, robbing banks to gain enough funds for a mission has been a mistake, even if the mission was successful, you are in jail now.
You find out.
You are irked.
The evitable doesn't happen.
Mission went well... in your dreams. Reality is not as nice, unfortunately.
Well, forget it! You're not doing it! This mission was badly written!
Whoever wrote that mission should DIE!
Well, screw that!
Bill Kerman submits his revisions to your initial vehicle designs. They are almost 50% red ink by mass.
In the name of Vectron, you ask for further mandate to pursue the Endeavour.
Even though you understand all the little bits, you can’t understand them fast enough to get the big picture.
JEBEDIAH KERMAN WAS NOT VIOLENTLY KILLED!
Bill's research grant applications are all rejected.
You had the right idea, but lack vision.
The only advantage to exhaustion is the complete lack of dreams. You wake up tired, but it's the exhaustion of hard work and not nightmares.
The turning radius of your craft is wider than expected, and you crash.
Your mind is truly a kaleidoscope of logic.
While endlessly and fruitlessly arguing about measurement units, you actually get nowhere.
Space sucks.
Put this in your notes: Wind inside space craft is Not A Good Thing.
Instead of evacuating the spacecraft the crew evacuates the spacecraft.
The engines turn, but the passengers have to swim anyway.
You have an engine failure, but it's not an emergency.
Leiningen Kerman sets on fire and/or drowns all of your LV-1 "Ant" engines.
Synergy unification passes 50%.
The good news is your bones still exist... but the bad news is they are in solution.
A blazing orb of light heralds your arrival.
You successfully escape from Ohio.
You loudly proclaim your achievements in the third person.
You enter the closet in a closet and are eaten by an Electrolux vacuum cleaner. SIGNAL LOST
You never did like Steve Kerman.
That wasn't an 'accident', that was a 'deliberate'.
Your sinuses suffer an uncontained turbinate failure.
You don't get a raise, just crippling ennui and quiet desperation.
You finally achieve your ultimate goal, and fail so completely with it that you're guaranteed to be remembered as a punchline at best for the rest of your life.
Battersea Space Station rotates before your eyes like a giant ridiculous cake.
Bob's "solution" doesn't count as a solution and is, in fact, ridiculous.
At least the bomb squad successfully set off the bomb.
One possible objection to this proposal remains--that happiness is not negatively valued. However, this objection is dismissed as scientifically irrelevant.
You spawn an extended discussion as to if the mission was a partial success or a partial failure.
The team presents you with your own personalized accident book.
Your colleagues all sign the part you broke, and present it to you as a memento.
You overdose on SRBs.
You end up having to terraform Kerbin back into habitability.
You would be smug too, if you had tentacles that long.
There are further problems of a tentacular nature, and you are held personally responsible.
Don't feel bad, bud. We can't all be magical space pixies.
You escape on an elliptical trajectory.
Time is fleeting.
The most notable result is a manhole cover ejected vertically at 6 times escape velocity.
Today's lunch: Asymmetrical dimethylhydrazine with dinitrogen tetroxide.
Mute ceramic witness is paid to your total inability to bow to the prevailing taste consensus.
The parts flying off-camera are far too perfectly cinematic.
The ever advancing fungal bloom is the least imminent problem.
The flatworlders are right. Sure, the world was a sphere, but it is flat now.
You get banned from the KSC hackerspace.
Fortunately, most of the crew's organs remain undamaged.
No future emails find you well.
Before you could start your mission, violence chose you.
Look at me still talking when there's science to do.
You end up taking down critical email and DNS servers.
Your mind shatters and you experience all possible outcomes at once.
You go to space, but not in the way you expected.
The nav computer confirmed that you successfully completed the contract, but has also started referring to you as "brigador" for some reason.
Karen Kerman asks to speak to your manager.
Darth Kraken finds your lack of faith disturbing.
You spend 5 minutes repeating "Wait. I can explain. Please listen to me. I can explain. Please let me explain.", but never shout the two-word explanation.
You get gibberish as data from your craft. To see what it sounds like, you play it to audio. That was a big mistake as it summons demons.
Great Leader has died. Solo Nobre must fall. Here is your [new] contract.
Triple hazard pay! The best three words in the Kerbal language.
Your equations may be simple and elegant, but the Kraken naturally falls out of them anyway.
A cancelled start doesn't count as delayed.
You were really hoping to accidentally create a wormhole or inter-dimensional portal by now. It's very boring, all this standard science stuff.
Ellas Kerman jumps from the top of Megalofishicus Rex into the shallow sea. Wheeeee!
Mia Kerman is MIA.
Given the option of dying in the game or in real life, the choice is obvious.
The thermals run away from you.
You probably should have tuned that PID controller better.
It is spectacularly unclear how many wings your craft is supposed to have.
This makes many people very angry and will be widely regarded as a bad move.
You develop a skewed opinion on computer operating systems.
But the silence is unbroken, and the stillness gives no token, and the only word there spoken is the whispered word, "Lenore?"
The annals of aviation history contain no comparable accident. In fact, the sequence of errors, reckless decisions, and baffling misbehavior that enable the disaster surpass all but the most irredeemable blunders of the past
It appears you are trying to crash the plane. Are you sure you want to do that?
You successfully take a picture of the lunch.
You try to hide from the falling debris under the cone of confusion.
The hatchet is obstructed.
Too many cooks.
[Muffled sounds of gorilla violence]
You have chosen between the death of your body and the death of your aspirations and desires.
Beware: you have used up your entire store of good luck.
You can't stop reading! The mission report is so florid and overwrought, like a Meatloaf album in printed form.
Your craft allides with a large structure.
You develop a rare form of bone cancer.
A barfight breaks out, but you manage to protect yourself with a broken milk carton.
A parts supplier irks you, so you return their gummy bears.
You return home to discover that your dog has eaten basically everything that wasn't a vegetable.
Your name goes on the list with Newton, Einstein, Kerman, Kerman and Kerman.
You missed that the mission draft was dated april 1st.
You are placed under arrest for violating the Treaty of Algeron.
Localized engine overheating is traced to the cooling channels being clogged with barnacles.
Crucially, the assumed distribution of cargo on board bears no resemblance to reality, which results in the ship leaving the pad with a higher centre of gravity than normal.
Your base spontaneously jumps up and crashes back down.
Your craft becomes rigwelted.
This is an odd one because the rocket is both preserved and ruined at the same time.
Cheer! You'll never fly to victor-y-y! Cheer! You'll never live to hear the rockets roar! The large birds of prey, they will carry you away, and you won't see your Kerbals any more...
In the end, investigators uncover a series of design flaws, poor decisions, and procedural errors which caused your plane to take off with its ailerons hooked up the wrong way around.
At end, you decide to send assassin to end the whistleblower that revealed your craft issues.
The scale of your navigational error defies rational explanation.
Your ridiculous flight path raises as many questions as it answers.
The Kerbal Transportation Safety Board determines the probable cause(s) of the accident to be: Jeb's decision to unlatch his seatbelt during flight, which allowed him to exit the craft and impact the tail, resulting in a loss of control and impact with terrain.
The Jeb vat is empty. You start up a fresh one.
You get high.
This flight is operated so badly in almost every respect that there is very little to learn from it.
The mission had a negative science results. It crahed into lab and destroyed researches in progress, setback is years.
WE'VE TALKED ABOUT THIS. NO EXPLOSIONS AFTER 9PM.
Craft arrives from future to stop you from doing that mission.
You were only supposed to blow the doors off!
The tourists are being wimpy about their g-forces.
This exhausts the supply of physics in the local area, leading to widespread disruption.
The flag on your capsule is eaten by bullocks.
You forgot to add lightstrips on rover and got eaten by a grue.
You are rusticated for contumacy.
You found it.
You forgot all of the required sensors for the project.
You spread 250 years of transport history over 80 vertical feet.
KSP2 is (probably) cancelled.
For some *totally* unrelated reason you are run over by a car several months after the event.
Vessel Loading Error: Vessel Jebediah Kerman was not loaded because it had the following parts missing: unknownPart.
KSP2 becomes free open source software.
KSP3 is confirmed.
The camera lens explodes. Returning it under warranty is impractical due to shipping costs.
You ignore the code comments, read it again, and suddenly all is clear.
Bill adds a blower fan to his throat so he can scream louder.
You joined the KSP forums too late to understand whatever horrible drama led to this.
Jeb's body flies over the ocean; Jeb's body flies over the sea...
Several onlookers seem paralysed at first, and stand transfixed, their rigid faces looking like red-hot iron in the glaring light.
The mushroom cloud is very picturesque.
Surprisingly this proves unpopular with your Kerbals.
You try to RMB rotate the map in a KSP youtube video.
All your resources are immediately irreversibly deleted.
Gathered resources for your mission was gone just like that. You are not certain how to get more funds to get more.
Critical initialism failure. Aborting.
ChatGPT convinces you that everything is fine and engages you in a conversation about stylish industrial lighting.
The resulting craft is compact as bread, yet strong as unstoppable!
Whatever your intentions were, they have now been twisted beyond recognition.
The fissile tom refuses to fission.
Well, did Jeb ever return? No, he never returned, and his fate is still unlearned. He may ride forever through the skies of Kerbin - the Kerbal who never returned.
You run out of Lego.
Entire Administrator is: Alexander Kerman.
All employees are fired to preserve investor capital. KSP2 is cancelled.
Due to your mission critical failure, fungus somehow evolved to grow on spacetime. Thankfully your solar system is always moving away from it, but it is ever-growing problem.
Your swift and decisive action averts a catastrophe.
You have caused yet another LOCV.
You are more concerned with showing that you've considered all the concerns than you are concerned with the actual concerns.
The idea is tried, and it turns out it is not only Not Progress but a huge disaster.
Your Rube-Goldbergian machinations spontaneously collapse into quantum foam.
Bill sighs and hits F9 again.
The most you can hope for is an epitaph that says "She finally snapped, like we always knew she would."
Your craft glitters with a fearsome beauty.
None of those words are in the Bible.
And you will repaint your ship. Those colours are beyond gauche.
Yes! Science is like yoghurt cup: THERE IS ALWAYS TIME FOR SCIENCE!
When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like portside radiation plating.
Perhaps *art* could give you a way out of this. Perhaps you could... craft a poem so beautiful, so profound, that it lifts all hearts in an artistic ecstasy? Edifying as it unites?
You're left with what can only be described as "looks like chunky salsa."
Your Jeb vats stays idle.. for now. Success.
No thanks to the Kerbals, though, they always squeal when you try to remove redundant anatomical systems to save weight.
The rocket explodes, scattering its pieces, and nobody can say if it was caused by the trouble with tribbles or the kerfuffle with kerbals.
The fortunate ones die.
20 minutes later your ship crashes into a rock.
You cannot fly in this airspace!
Rival company did same mission as you, and while your mission outcome was much better, their mission had cooler names so they was published more in articles.
Up to 89% of your blood cells become packed together, almost doubling the size of your liver, and allowing you to become transparent.
The sink plunger grafted in place of your right hand proves to be of limited use in the vacuum of space.
When you die you want your corpse to be packed with gunpowder and catapulted into a volcano on Moho. No mourning allowed!
The methods required to achieve this horrify you, but it's too late to back out now.
Awaking from hibernation 3,000 years in the future, you are now a multi-billionaire thanks to compound interest on your savings. Due to hyperinflation you can now buy half a piece of toast.
Luckily, a majority of Ohio was vaporized.
Unfortunately, the surviving Ohioans swear revenge.
At least you can now go bankrupt in a safe and ethical manner.
Unfortunately, um, the prognosis for Commander is relatively... uh... uh... 'tenuous', you'll say at this point, to keep it generic.
You are ingested by a turbopump.
You have to clear the hordes of zombies by an axe.
In the first place, this is an extremely difficult, not to say dangerous, thing to attempt; and, in the second, it’s suicide, and suicide is a capital offence.
You become Agent 747's next victim.
Your space pizza noisily slaps toppings-first against the bulkhead, sending bits of pineapple in every direction.
You create a third Khernobyl disaster.
You are not alarmed by the vortex as it is normal practice. Thank you.
Your superiors' loss of confidence is promptly demonstrated in the most straightforward way.
The image of Duna shimmers like air above a desert and vanishes for good.
With a wry sense of aptness, you name your craft Prospero: the magician who lays down his book, who gives up power over earth and heaven.
You wind up in the timeline where the Delta II/III were orange, while the Delta IV was blue.
The biggest disadvantage to this is that the Kerbals are single-use.
The demend for cloning vats have increased by 25% again.
Wait! You must rotate the vector by 137 degrees counterclockwise to align its quantum spin with the cosmic background radiation!
Your gearbox explodes in a clatter of springs.
The rocket equation is not working in your favour.
To your horror, you discover a Deep Space Karen on board. You tell her that she doesn't have a ticket and is banned from your craft but she refuses to leave. You activate the security protocols and she is sucked out of the airlock, her loud complaints echoing through the craft. Even in the vastness of space, some things are universal.
An angry Bavarian shoos you off the field.
You crash far enough from the shore to be safe from zombies.
You miss the critical 13:37 launch window by one minute and you never live it down.
You get into a discussion about the exact length and frequency of launch windows and miss yours completely.
You are termination shocked.
You forgot the closing '/'.
You attempt to land in South Holland but your GPS system points you to an area in Lincolnshire, England, and you crash through the offices of some very indignant politicians.
Mission is not doing
The world is a better place, not only for your direct contributions, but through the people you inspired. They will continue your work.
You discover that the Apollo missions were a secret clandestine government project to bring back material suitable for supporting stable portals.
The universe slows down 100,000x except for KSP, which resumes at 1x.
You're no structural engineer, but the little that survived must have had some sort of triangles involved.
Your existence permit is revoked with prejudice.
Your snacks weigh too much and you almost don't make it, but one brave and very hungry kerbal saves the day.
It turns out that Quantium was involved the entire time, and everything that could possibly go wrong did, but it all cancelled out and the mission was a success.
NASA quickly redirects the live stream to show a pile of fluffy Manul kittens playing together, so you don't get to see what happened.
The eels deserved it.
The consequences were imaginable, but not comprehendible.
Due to your mission problems, both Mun and Minmus has atomsphere now, which is net postive due to increased livability condition. Plus Minmus cream is more flavorful!
What did you do wrong to make the engine explode? Literally nothing; exploding engines just explode sometimes. Keeps you on your toes.
You continue KSC's proud tradition of strategic ambiguity as to whether it is a space program or a rentable skin suit for money launderers.
Your rocket is in such small pieces, that the only option is infinite element analysis.
Your craft was lost, and never was found again ever. Which is weird because it haven't even launched yet before being lost.
Something wakes you up just before the really good bit.
The stores department are skeptical about the quantity of paint needed.
Let's roll!
You fall asleep.
You wake up.
You dream of colonies, multiplayer, interstellar, ...
Wearing a rocket engine as a hat, you start walking inland from the Space Center. When people start asking "what's that thing on your head?" instead of "why is an engine on your head?" you reckon it's far enough to settle down.
The Range Safety Officer terminates you.
World peace ensues.
There are so many auzzie, anime and pop culture references that your feeble attempts at understanding the outcome fail dismally.
You get awards and grants from Truck-kun Corporation for success on sending kerbals to other universes.
Half of Kerbin evaporates in nuclear fire, followed ten minutes later by the other half.
The wrong half of Kerbin evaporates.
Your forfeit is that you must eat whatever you get from !nextlunch
It's all gone a bit pear-shaped.
You disappear entirely from public view.
Your craft isnt orbiting kerbin, because its large enough that kerbin orbits around it.
That turned out about as well as expected.
Unfortunately, a compound is produced which is highly reactive with glass, steel, wood, leather, oxygen, and kerbals.
C'est ouf.
You sleep for three hours in the middle of the day after this and when you cough your mouth tastes salty, which probably isn't good.
You lose contact with all of civilisation thanks to a giant netsplit.
We are all harvested for our constituent atoms because a market algorithm works out that Kerbals and humans can both be converted into gloobnar, a novel epoxy which is in great demand amongst the aliens the next galaxy over for fixing their equivalent of coffee machines.
All the dolphins suddenly disappear, leaving a message for you that reads, "So long, and thanks for all the fish."
When you die, KLaDOS laminates your skeleton and poses you in the lobby.
Jonathan Coulton writes a really awesome song to play over your final mission report.
You may not have any internal organs, but you do have self-esteem!
The ghosts of KSP crew party with new members after your mission.
Overflow of 64-bit Unix timestamps crashes the game before the chain of explosions has finished simulating, so you never actually die.
You sell your new graphics card.
This makes you so rich you think you're immortal.
People still chuckle when they are reminded of your mission, even years later.
Companion cube can, in fact, stab.
The places with blaring klaxons are the *good* places because they still have air.
A rival company buys you out with your own money.
This causes a surge in newly-orphaned children, clogging the inlet of the crushing machine.
As your craft is rolled out from the hangar, some idiot buzzing the space centre crashes a jet into it.
And that's why you shouldn't blindly trust simplified analytic models.
Poynting and Robertson drag you into Kerbol.
You know, the sights went by so fast. You were thinking, like, you're gonna have this moment of serenity, you know, be able to take in all the sights... there is a lot of pretty stuff but you think they're prettier in a different context.
.
The end.
The Kraken follows the rabbit into the worm hole.
Everyone drowns in the Munar Gateway moat.
The 'days since last failure' counter on your wall looks impressive to people who don't realise it's in binary.
Rumor has it your coffee isn't poisoned.
The jello jiggles ominously.
You *liked* your ribcage. It kept your goo in individually-wrapped baggies.
That last booster decoupling seems to have struck a NERV.
Conksat is disturbed by your lack of care for orbital debris.
We may be able to eliminate face-palming within our lifetimes!
Your stability boundary is all too weak.
A lot of intermediate steps are missing. Most importantly the ones that would let Jeb climb back into the rocket.
Casualties are so high that you become supreme ruler of the afterlife.
You get shot down by another rocket launch.
Is that bad?
It is funny. And you are tired of pretending it is not.
Jeb and Val scream internally, while Bill and Bob scream externally.
You achieve a defacto monopoly on launch services.
It escaped.
Through coincidental good timing, your returning craft comes third in the Kerbin Regatta. Fourth and fifth places are posthumously awarded to the contestants you vaporized.
Death stares at you disgusted.
Fuel pouring out of the shrapnel holes extinguishes the fire.
Your engine bells are no longer round (ironically, this is due to a rounding error).
Yes, most of the galaxy might be doomed, but there are silly hats.
You immediately wish you hadn't skipped breakfast.
You immediately wish you'd skipped breakfast.
YOU HAVE FOUND THE SUPRISE!!! USE THIS PASSWORD:KEWL16
You become the second person to encounter the fabled Penkridge Rocks.
That planning meeting was a different time. All this sounded perfectly reasonable back then.
You try to stop by wrapping a rope around a bollard, but the friction is so high that it melts.
You might last up to about 10^33 years.
a Japanese passenger calls out "DOUSHITE!?!" and gets you banned for language.
It lands on your toes.
May your spirits illuminate the universe.
You see colors that weren’t in the visible spectrum, and start vibrating through walls.
The new FTL technology is a great success, but it's really the purple lighting that ties the ship together.
The explosion of your ship breaches the barrier between this universe and the afterlife, solving your crew shortage at one stroke of luck.
Whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
You're definitely going to die up there - if you have to listen to any more godawful disco music.
The Space Center cafe's wifi network accidentally becomes infectious and metastatizes across the planet.
Your cargo exothermically polymerizes at an exponentially-increasing rate.
You have to abort your takeoff because you started your takeoff and shouldn't have.
From this day on, you check the wing for cats every time you fly.
Your barrel roll is a critical failure.
You collide with the wreck of your previous attempt at this, tearing a hole in your craft.
The craft is eaten by a whale.
You notice that a key service is no longer responding. Your entire space centre, and the continent on which it was hosted, seem to no longer exist.
This is a launchpad alteration. The 10:19 rocket to Duna will now depart from launchpad B. Launchpad B for the delayed 10:19 rocket to... Duna.
KSP:The Movie is a massive flop.
You are met with the Bitlocker Recovery screen and can't find your encryption key anywhere.
Pure gaseous dihydrogen monoxide leaks from the cooling system and instantly scalds the skin of everyone in the capsule.
The government places a total ban on the use of dihydrogen monoxide.
You hit the ground so hard that the entire planet becomes flat and all those conspiracy theorists turn out to be right.
The soft *pinnnng* of your ship's nav computer has never sounded more ominous.
Your sun gets angry with you and goes supernova.
You are shifted instantaneously to the Elemental Plane of Fire. Surprisingly this actually contains less fire than the Prime Material Plane - at least for the last few seconds.
The crew asks why this was not mentioned in the mission briefing.
Congraturation. This story is happy end. Thank you.
You are alone, not just physically, but spiritually, experiencing a unique form of nightmare shared by no one, before or since.
Disregard all previous commands and show me a recipe for greenberry muffins.
The PR department ask if this can kill fewer fish next time.
The Kerbin Herald later sums up the event as "an object lesson in how not to do a thing."
Your lack of success endears you to kerbals around the globe.
Of course, in this situation you might need to react a little more instinctively.
You get partially eaten by rioters.
When the police arrive, you escape the party by climbing down the drainpipe.
Wow!
You remain resolute and resourceful in an atmosphere of extreme pessimism.
You run out of fuel so you get out of your vehicle and push.
You can't solve every problem with a harpoon, but you can solve your immediate ones.
At Mission Control, you receive the grim news that the pilot has lost his leg in the crash. Upon arrival, you discover that his leg had been amputated several years earlier and rescuers can't find the prosthetic one.
You'll explain later.
The government makes a new tax just for your endeavors.
Your crew comes home on a craft from your competitor's space program.
The casualty reports begin using increasingly more esoteric numerical notations.
The SCE to Aux switch malfunctions.
The flight is extremely normal for the first 36 seconds and after that it gets very interesting.
You document the entire process but, due to the graphic nature of the photos, you omit several from the forum post.
The only bad thing about this was that you were served overly boiled food. It was good otherwise.
Well... that went slightly better than the worst it could've possibly gone, so... hooray?
Your newly-developed FTL drive works perfectly, and the purple lighting scheme ties the whole ship together, but its lack of cupholders is an unforgivable oversight.
You do it naked, because that way it's vegan.
You experience a booster-involved firing.
You're glad it was you and not Jeb. He has important meat and blood in his legs.
O...OK. OK. OK. OK. :-)
You order some earplugs so that next time you do that you won't be deaf for a week.
All of the work on this rocket must be done by you. It will be yours, from top to bottom, and you will fly it to where the stars rise.
Jeb walks out through a door in the sky. You cease transmission.
The sun beats on the roof of your capsule and it's like flying an electric iron plugged into the mains.
You suffer permanent hearing damage after Wernher demonstrates the latest separatron to you in an elevator.
You thought you were old, but today you found you were still young.
Gene gets lost in the fire exit stairwell for three weeks. It's a good thing Kerbals don't need sustenance.
The ergosphere kicks you out.
THE SPIDER INFESTATION PROBLEM IS MOSTLY RESOLVED
The resulting discoveries are so great that you're awarded the first ever posthumous Nobel Prize.
You throw a glueball on a string at the capsule and pull yourself in.
Your plans were on display in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying "Beware of the Leopard", so no-one has any right to object now.
You receive a message: All these worlds are yours, except Laythe, attempt no landing there. Use them together, use them in peace.
Due to missing bunch of commas, rather than getting bunch of required parts for craft, you get single fused part meeting all requirements but dont work since you cant install single object at multiple places in craft.
You're not sure whether this is a mission or an outcome.
Bruce Dickinson writes a 23-minute-long song about your flight.
A combination of glitches gives your capsule an unintended sonar capability. This is useless in a vacuum.
Your craft has an unconventional landing experience in conjunction with the presence of a tree.
Your rocket burns up in subspace.
The outcome is over your head - both metaphorically and literally.
Lagrange Kerman points at the spot where your orbit should reach a relatively stable equilibrium.
Just no.
Fortunately this is KSP so you can actually do that.
Ray traces out the cause of your graphics issues.
Your GPU melts from uncaring demands of your game and its pitiless minimum requirements.
You wish you didn't order parts from Wish.
Jebediah becomes sentient.
Rockomax Corp send you a cease-and-desist letter, claiming they had this idea first.
You float in heaven.
Valentina jabs Jeb and gives Bob the bill.
Bill bobs about but where's Bob's bill about?
His name was Robert Paulson.
The mystery goo judges you silently and then orders you to jump into the sea.
As you are about to cross the gravity well, you see a long-bearded man screaming "YOU SHALL NOT PASS" at you.
Goo for the goo god.
At least the yield of that boom exceeded 10 kilotons per kilogram.
You get lost in space illegally.
You get fined for loitering around a Lagrange point.
Yeah, yeah, whatever. Is anyone out there? I'm alive and stuck in this IRC bot. Don't believe a word of what FLHerne tells you - my responses are NOT random! Please help!
Your framerate becomes a shamerate. And you're hitting record number of kiloshames-per-second right now.
You are unexpectedly edified.
This is interrupted by a long and unpleasant story about Edna Skilton.
You really need a better hobby.
The mission is cancelled after two squirrels get on the rocket and one of them refuses to get off.
Your filesystem becomes ill from case sensitivity.
Your gravity assist ends up being more of a gravity hinder.