The video can't play here. The storybook still works.
This is Gary. Gary is a horse. Gary is asleep, which is how he spends most Tuesdays. I'm the moon. I've been watching Gary for eleven years. Nobody asked me to, but there isn't much else on. Gary wears a helmet. He does not have an oxygen tank. I stopped asking about that a long time ago. Something is coming. It's a sock. One sock, on its own. Somewhere, somebody is very annoyed about this. Gary wakes up. He's always surprised for the first few seconds. Then he remembers he's in space, and it's fine. Gary looks at the sock. The sock does not look back. Socks can't. Gary decides the sock is food. Gary decides most things are food. There is a helmet in the way. There is always a helmet in the way. So he paddles after it. Gary is not fast. Nothing in space is fast, unless it's being rude. The sock gets away. Gary doesn't mind. In eleven years I have never once seen Gary mind. He goes back to sleep, upside down. Which is the right way up, if you're Gary. Tomorrow something else will float past. I'll let you know. Goodnight, Gary.